Peeling Paint And Rust marks a significant departure for photographer David Wilson, in several ways. First of all, quite literally – some of the featured pictures were taken outside his home county of Pembrokeshire.

Then, as the title suggests, there’s the zoomed-in perspective of a body of work that has emerged somewhat unexpectedly, in stark contrast to his more purposive projects to create portraits of a whole village or even a county. But most obvious is the fact that it’s not in black and white – and necessarily so; as Wilson notes in his Introduction, “the language of decay is colour”.

The close-ups of cracked and flaking paint – a flimsy layer of protection from the passage of time – have a textural quality, while corrugated iron left exposed to the elements turns a rich russet as it enters the autumn of life. Rust creates a window through a dilapidated fence, and a caravan huddles under a tree on a hillside like a bedraggled sheep seeking shelter from the rain.

It’s not only tractors and cars that have met ignominious ends; it’s shops and services, and homes. In promoting The Village in 2021, Wilson quoted from Leonardo D’Onofrio’s novel Old Country: “The village was a living, organic entity, with blood flowing through its veins, and with a definite pulse and heartbeat.” Peeling Paint And Rust poignantly illustrates that the pulse and heartbeat of some parts of rural Wales feel increasingly faint.