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.
I have never been at the center of a Tweet Storm unless of course, we are referring to squawks on the beach. Maybe this is a good metaphor for that.
Speaking of which, I just heard the in-depth interview of Jack Dorsey on Sam Harris’s podcast. The guy is pretty zen, way more than I expected. Long story short, Twitter is a work in progress and, from what I can glean, Jack has his heart in the right place.
I’m not much of a Twitter guy, I just tweet my photos, but that’s probably not the ideal use case. I do like to follow certain people, but I’m not really into participating in public discourse. I’m more contemplative and keep my thoughts to myself. I’m not sure if that’s a good thing; but let just say, it is what it is.
One of the reasons I do seascape photography is that it reminds me of things bigger than myself. It’s easy to forget that we are part of a much larger universe.
When we are children, everything is new, and we are often in a state of awe at the world around us. Then we develop thought patterns and an ego. We get through life by constructing a story of who and what we are. But that inward-looking drive comes at a cost: we forget the awe.
When I create images with a minimal theme, the open space is a reminder to myself, and anyone else, that we are part of something beyond the daily grind. Once in a while, I like to remind my self of that.
There is a barrier of dunes that run the length of Anna Maria Island. Plants grow in the dunes and as a result, protect it from the onslaught of the sea.
It’s incredible how nature comes up with devices to protect one thing from another. The forces of nature are regularly at war, and the results of the conflict create a boundary that, in this instance, we call a beach.
Sometimes I like to get down into the trenches with the troops. In this case, I found a path through the dunes at Manatee Beach. People came to enjoy the sense of peace and tranquility. However, as summer approaches, it will invariably bring new storms that test the resolve of these little dunes. May they hold fast and secure.
I took this photo about three years ago. However, lately, there is an on-going project to re-enforce the seawall so that it doesn’t erode. Because I drive by it several times a week, I was getting tired of seeing the construction equipment. But upon reflection, and through a longer lens of history, it’s probably good that they take all the time they need to get it right.
I took this photo in Pass-A-Grille. The name is anglicized from the French: Passe Aux Grilleurs. It seems it’s always been a favorite place to grill fish.
I’ve only been here a few times in the last decade, but I’ve never grilled fish. Nevertheless, it’s just south of it’s more famous cousin, St Pete Beach. And unlike the communities just north of it, has a distinct village feel.
Anyway, I arrived just before sunset and, just like at all the other beaches in the region, people arrive to watch. In case you haven’t noticed, that’s a favorite photographic subject for me. I am attracted to the colors in the sky and, the scenes it creates of people watching the spectacle unfold. I think we like watching the sunset because, at a subconscious level, it’s a reminder of our place on Earth as it moves through the heavens; and, that we are part of something much much more significant.
I am partial to the west coast. Any west coast will do, I’m not that particular. It just needs to be a coast on the west side of any land mass.
I mentioned in a recent post that this has everything to do with how our planet spins. As we know, the sun sets in the west. However, if our world turned in the opposite direction, it would set in the east, and I’d have a preference as an east coast guy. Come to think of it; I’m not that attached to the west, rather, the direction that the sun sets. As for this planet, it’s west. But over near Alpha Centauri, all bets are off.
Back here in the United States, I live in the eastern part of the country on the west coast of Florida. In this way, should the Earth change its mind and decide to spin the other way, I should have my bases covered.
This was taken about three years ago in Alaska. It was around eleven o’clock at night as the sun slowly inched down. Then, just a few hours later it would creep back up.
I took the picture from a ship as we sailed north. This scene was repeated in an endless succession of mountains and untouched wilderness. I was blown away at the vastness of natural landscape here. Until you experience it yourself, it’s hard to imagine. And it’s equally hard for me to convey in writing.
In one sense, the scene of children on the beach is timeless, it could have been taken a hundred years ago. However, the landscape might have changed quite a bit.
Mechanically speaking, beaches are the act of erosion. The beach here probably looked quite different a hundred years ago. Because changes happen slowly, we don’t notice much of it. But take a picture of anything year after year, and we begin to see changes.
With technology, and from this point forward, we are recording the transformation of our landscapes accurately. Assuming we’re around in a couple thousand years, we should have a high-resolution time-lapse recording of all the changes. That should be pretty awesome to watch because it will show the changes that span a human lifetime in just a few seconds. Then, maybe, we will have an appreciation for just how dynamic the changes on our planet really are.