all in a line

kapa'a (where else?). march 2013.

the hard decisions

the sea. march 2013.

there's no one there

kapa'a, kauai. march 2013.

sea colors

california, from kauai. march 2013.

happy 75th!

golden gate. may 2012.

looking down between the cracks to the rocking waves.

into the sea

monterey. march 2011.

off to my next conference.

a mist slowly rising

lost coast. november 2008.

my first vacation as an employed individual, post grad school. shortly after this photo the clouds cleared to a perfectly blue sky, and i remember thinking to myself as i walked along the beach, "this is what my life will be like, now. i can just take time off and go on trips and not have anything to worry about." and i remember feeling so free -- of all the worries of grad school, and unemployment, and living at home. i was completely in the moment, taking pictures of waves, observing the extending coastline stretching north. i was a person on a beach, and that's exactly where i was meant to be.

doorways to nowhere

monterey. march 2011.

numb feet in the early morning waves

 

rodeo cove, facing the pacific ocean. july 2011.

underneath

monterey. march 2011.

a crushing weight above, and expansive view beyond.

monterey morning

monterey. march 2011.

ice plant

along the coast, north of pescadero. march 2011.

lovers

half moon bay. feb 2011.

alone before the waves

half moon bay. feb 2011.

a fanning spread

half moon bay. feb 2011.

a fanning spread of wavelets and ripples as sediment and sand wash out to sea.

Behind Them, The Ocean

Malibu. 2007.

These chairs are just waiting for people to come sit in them. Look at the one on the left--it's so bored it's lying back, drowsing in the sun. The hedge behind them is protecting them from the sharp wind that's chopping up the water out there. Huddled down in the lee, the chairs are warm, cozy even, in the early spring sun. But they're hungry for summer's gossip and lazy patterns of use. Thirsty for the sunscreen and sweat they'll drink up off of peoples' skin as they bake, sitting up or lying back, facing east or belly down, hot, hot, hot.

Views from the Lost Coast

The Lost Coast, Northern California. 2008.

Two pictures this time. I couldn't resist. Somehow the forest in deep fog and the wind swept, chilly beaches are all part of the same feeling. Of entering a truly lost, undisturbed world. Even talking to other people, seeing cars, buying food--nothing could alter the sensation of being an insignificant visitor to something large and solid and unconcerned. As if my entire three day trip was missed because the land blinked.

I find myself thinking about that trip a lot, now that it's fall again. Winter, I should say. The penetrating cold seeping into your flesh. The deep, beautiful gloom. The water-rich sounds. Trickle; rush; suck; drink; slide; wear; pound; fall; coat; sweep; crash. Clouds and streams and saturated dirt and the ocean, always the ocean. Like the out-of-range buzz of a t.v. in another room. You know it's there, you sense it, without knowing how. It's there, reaching out with greedy palms to scrape at the land, gluttonous for more. Eating its way toward you.

West

On the ocean, just west of the western-most tip of Africa, off the Senegalese coast. Facing North America. 2006.