High tides, full moon and westerly gales have brought mounds of marine debris, flotsam and jetsam to shore. All along the strandline it looks as though Poseidon himself has thrown out the bones of his soldiers, colossal waves pushing what he has discarded into neat, long piles. Mostly seaweed of course, but amidst the tumult and cry of seabirds, kelp stems appear as long, pale bones, their footings like fragments of brain, and all jumbled and heaped together with ropes, plastic bottles, buoys and pieces of wood. If not rejects of Poseidon or the Kraken, these piles of kelp might inhabit a science fiction tale and be the last remains of some alien invasion, thrown out, defeated by the sea. Nonsense I know, but in their tangled oddness, such bizarre and implausible shapes, especially where melded with human detritus, remind me of H R Giger’s monstrous, magnificent artwork.