Friday, July 29, 2011

Observations from the Shore, the Mirage

Possibly my favorite thing at the shore is walking on the beach at dawn. No matter how little, if any, sleep I have had I drag myself out to the beach and just walk. I love to look out over the ocean as the sky turns multiple shades of pink and orange, slowly blending together everything from the palest nadeshiko to the brightest amber and gold. Standing on the empty beach with my feet in the cold water as the sun finally climbs into the sky. My lungs filled with the salt air, the breeze off the ocean in my face, I just smile at the beauty of it all. I wouldn't call it meditation but the effect it has on me seems to be about the same.

All week the mornings had been rather cool and I was excited to wear a sweatshirt for my walks. This morning was a bit warmer and more humid so I just pulled on some ratty jeans with the top of my swimsuit and headed down to the water. But for a few fishermen the beach was wonderfully deserted as I walked with my feet in the cold, almost numbing, water.

After a bit of walking I saw a girl in the distance sitting as close to the water as possible, just like I sometimes do in the morning. As I got closer I stopped to take a few shots of her than thought I might say heyas or some other profound word. I mean I do like my morning walks alone but than again I don't normally run into somebody as stunning as her either. By sheer luck I took this shot just after a wave rolled in a bit farther than she expected. We just looked at each other for a moment than began to laugh like two kids playing in the surf.

It all became a bit surreal when I looked at her and realized she was dressed like I was, tall like I am, and was alone on the beach at dawn like I always am. I never did get to talk to her though as she got up, smiled, and walked away brushing off her wet sandy jeans. I stood there watching her walk away until I lost her in the morning haze and instantly knew what I would title the photo if it was good.

"She walked on, comforted by the surf, by the one perpetual moment of beach-time, the now and always of it."
William Gibson