So this is the pier in Venice, it’s a shot I’ve done before, but each time is a little different. This time I included only the sun’s edge, so its presence is felt without becoming the scene’s focus. At least that’s how my left brain explains what the right brain did without asking permission.
I took this about five years ago at Fort DeSoto Park. Looking at it now I wish I’d used a smaller aperture so the foreground would be sharper, but I like the photo anyway. Sometimes I try not to sweat the little stuff if I like the image. Technically the picture is a bit subpar, but I like the shot anyway, and in my mind, that’s what counts.
Here is a picture from the other day at the pier in Venice, Florida. Isn’t it interesting how so many places are named after a city in Italy?
I suppose it’s no surprise; it just makes me wonder what we’ll name places on Mars should we ever begin to colonize there. If there are no bodies of water, Venice may not be high on the list. You never know.
I take a lot of these shots and just can’t seem to get enough of them. It reminds me of times I visited Hawaii and would float for long stretches in the water, rocking with the waves. Now that I live in Florida, it’s ironic that I can go whenever I want but seldom do.
When I see a bunch of shells on the beach, I want to hoard them like a pirate. At some point in history, these were money.
This photo is reprocessed from an earlier version here. The tools for post-processing are continually being updated, so lately I’ve been having a little fun going back to old photos to tease out a new look. I don’t recall what tools I used back in 2015, but this time, I used the latest version of Skylum’s Luminar.
Nevertheless, what got my attention in this scene is all of the shells in the foreground; they must have been deposited after a storm. You can go to a store and buy a bag of shells for ten bucks, or you could just go to the beach and pick them up yourself. Better yet, send me the money, and I’ll get them for you! (just kidding)
There’s a reason they call it the Skyway Bridge. I like to think it has something to do with the sky. I’m just saying.
I remember taking this after an afternoon rain. I pointed the camera from a rest stop along the highway facing northwest. I’ve been using different lenses lately, but I think I’ll bring this old 24-240mm along with me more often. By the way, this is a fifteen-second exposure, so it must have been quite dark.
According to the EXIF information on the photo, I took this on July 16th at 8:00 pm. But I think it’s wrong because the sun sets around 8:30 at that time of year. I think the clock in my camera was off by an hour, and it was actually 9:00 pm. Inquiring minds need to know; I’m just saying.
To see the sunset like this, you walk into the park after closing. Doing so I thought I’d be alone but found a crowd along the shore, all with the same idea. After sunset, I took a quiet trail back to avoid the crowds. However, the trails have lifesize cutouts of historical figures, and more than once, I was startled by conquistadores and aboriginals staring back at me. It was a little unnerving, to say the least.
Living along the coast, you develop a sense of normalcy about living where others vacation. So it’s good to get away for some perspective and then come back. It’s human nature; nothing lasts forever, even that feeling at the start of a long weekend.
After the long red tide, it’s nice to see the beaches back to normal. The fish have returned, and fishers are back at it.
A lot of research has gone into determining the causes of the toxic algae bloom. Historically, this has occurred for decades if not centuries. It’s possible that man is aggravating it, and it’s likely there are other causes, such as colonies of it endemic to the deep in the gulf.
Nevertheless, it wreaks havoc on coastal communities in Florida. It’s gone for now, and we hope it stays away. But after the last eighteen months, everyone is a little on edge. Most importantly, it gives us a new appreciation for the years when we don’t have it.