Medlars Yard, a landfill site from the 1960s in Norfolk, provided the perfect setting for a photography study that delved into the dynamic between human impact and nature’s resilience. Once filled with discarded vehicles—abandoned cars, rusted trucks, and broken machinery—the site now bears the marks of time’s quiet healing. Through my lens, I became fascinated by how mankind, in its rush to dispose of what it no longer needed, radically altered the natural landscape. Yet, over decades, nature has slowly woven itself back in, softening the harsh edges of human disregard. In one photograph, a car frame is half-hidden beneath a blanket of moss, ivy curling through its empty windows, while in another, the skeletal remains of a truck are softened by the gentle spread of wild grasses. These vehicles, once symbols of progress and consumption, have become part of the landscape, their jagged metal and glass obscured by nature’s persistent growth. What began as a study of discarded remnants soon became a meditation on how the land, scarred by human hands, can slowly heal—nature reclaiming what was once thrown away, leaving behind a poignant reminder of the passage of time.