There is a thinning of the air, a gradual scarcity in the light. It is as though nothing has happened here for a long time and the land has folded in on itself. There is also an untidiness – an abandoned car rusting away, say, or some decaying farm buildings, or some farm machinery lying in long grass, not used for a long time. Or weeds growing wilder than usual. And a stillness, things petering out. A landscape of endings.