Today I returned to a beach I walk on every day, with my camera. Overwhelmed with the grief of losing my dog Henry, I decided I should put my emotions to good use and take some images of a place we spent many happy times together.
It is a blustery but bright day, and the water is sparkling in the pools of water remaining from the high tide. The wind is whipping them up into frenzied activity with shore life being tossed around in a swirling cauldron of movement. The combination of good light and the wind provides for good photographic opportunities revealing that which lies below the surface and producing beautiful patterns on the surface of the water.
For an hour I am lost in my pursuit. I focus on the ever-changing and transient moments of shape, form and colour and as I work it becomes almost a meditative practice. I am reminded of work I produced in Year 1 entitled The Shape of Water and the images I am taking now seem to be hitting that brief, but I also feel that I am capturing what I had in mind when I spoke of the inter-connectedness and entanglement of the edge of the sea.
I wander down to the water’s edge and I watch the waves moving ever forward as the tide begins to flow towards high tide. But there are many more waves and pockets of energy converging as they break, as the rhythm is broken on the sands at my feet.
I am pleased to say that my sadness has delivered some good images. I have some “keepers” and am learning how the combination of light, wind and tides reflect in the shapes, patterns and forms of the Edge of the Sea. . .