Still Sandy

On Sunday, we were finally allowed access to the Roger's Beach in Westhampton after the hurricane. Of course, I grabbed my camera and headed down there. What I found, was much different that I expected. The beach was still sandy, wider than before, not narrower. But there were these rivers of water running through it. I decided that the best way to depict that impression was to shoot right up the river. In terms of composition, the angle of view can make all the difference. To see another viewpoint, go to my other blog, Recovery Thru My Lens.

Serenity

No matter how long I live near the water, I still need to remind myself that even in the off-season, when the temperature starts to dip, I can jump in my car and in ten minutes I'll be where the water meets the sky, where there's some serenity for me and plenty for you too. 

In fact if you visit my other blog, Recovery Thru My Lens, you'll read the same words but find another view of this scene. I couldn't chose between the two, so I posted one on each site. Let me know which one you prefer...

Capture

Although I complain about too much technology to the point of creating an entire collection, called Phantoms, to show how it's the demise of society as I've known it, here's an instance where it definitely came in handy.

When I go to the beach lugging beach chairs, umbrella, towels, books, etc, I leave my camera behind to lighten the load and avoid damaging my equipment. However, now that the i-Phone takes such good pictures, I can whip it out if I see something I can't resist.

Sure, I can't control the f-stop, shutter speed or the focus and the file size is limited, but when there's a choice between capturing the image or not, I  succumb.

In this case, if I would have waited to return the next day with my Canon, this creature would certainly have been washed away.

For a more personal take on the alligator, go to Recovery Thru My Lens.

Divide

Here's yet another of my classic beachscapes that I'm writing about for the first time. Like the others, it was taken just after sunset---but at Cupsogue Beach County Park at the end of Weshampton Dunes. Notice how the red fence stands out against the green grass and blue sky. Perfect complements further enriched by the last few moments of twilight. 

It's rare to find a moment of universal harmony like this---the reason why it seems to be a perennial favorite. I've saved it for the last month of summer so I can savor it through the end of the season....always a bit melancholy no matter how long I've lived here on the East End.

Go to my other blog, Recovery Thru The Lens, to read a more personal rendition of this image.

Wonderland

Sorry to have missed a week of posting here. Here's one of my classic images taken several years back that I usually call Pink Sound but today I'm calling it Wonderland as a tribute to the East End where I've lived for almost 25 years.

As a photographer, I'm so grateful to this part of the world for its breathtaking beaches, intricate land formations and most of all, wonderful light. Sometimes I long for the city streets where there's so much action and so many faces to feast on, but then I picture images like this and remember why I'm here.

To read a more personal take on this image, visit Recovery Thru My Lens.

Island

On a recent trip to the North Fork just before Orient, I noticed this island floating in the Long Island Sound. Since I've been surrounded by water here on the East End for the last 20+ years, it takes something remarkable for me to shoot an image like this these days.

Amidst all the development taking place here, I was struck by the emptiness of this stretch of sea, sand and sky. It seemed that this could be an island floating almost anywhere in the world; in the Caribbean, the Mediterranean or even off the coast of Africa or in the South Pacific---although the sea might not be as calm. And because it's reminiscent of a simpler time, I transferred it to black and white with a hint of amber for nostalia...
For a poetic rendition of this image, visit Recovery Thru My Lens!

Drift

There's something magical about sandbars. Usually they appear here at the end of the summer, but this one materialized early in June five years ago. This is one of my favorite beach images, yet this is the first time I am writing about it.
While relaxing on a Quogue beach one afternoon, I noticed how the shoreline appeared severed to the left. The next day I returned with my medium-format film camera late in the afternoon when the light was low. Stationed in this spot, composition ready, I pre-visualized the image and waited for someone to come walking into the scene. After several passed, this couple dressed in white mosied into the frame skirting the inner waterway on either side.
For a long time I had called this photograph simply Sandbar. A few days ago, however, I re-titled it Drift after writing a short verse with it in mind for my other blog, Recovery Thru My Lens. Take a look and find out why...

Isle of Palms

One of the many wonderful things that I discovered on my road trip down south is that you can bike on the beach! Because the sand is so fine, there's a wide swath of shoreline packed down almost as hard as concrete.
Here's one of my new Phantoms photographed on the Isle of Palms, a strip of land about 30 minutes from Charleston, South Caroline, where I stayed with a friend. And here she is speeding along, disappearing into the dusk...
I've yet to name this one so if any of you have an idea, let me know by commenting below.

Phenomena

In the last week, I've been to the beach four times with my dog, Copper. Yes, I know it's December, but it sure doesn't feel like it! On one of our walks at Cupsogue Beach, the county park at the far western end of Westhampton Dunes, we came upon this incredible sight. I'm not quite sure what to call it. An etching, engraving, masonry in sand?

Raising my camera, I started to snap away, excited about my discovery, wondering whether it was man-made or some kind of natural phenomena. Juxtaposed against the streaky clouds, I couldn't believe my luck. As I shot away, Copper crept into the image. At first I wanted to shoo him away, but then he sat down in just the right spot providing his profile.

They say things come in threes, it seems that also applies to photography.

Symmetry

In the midst of back-to-back snow storms, I thought I'd post this image taken last month on a sunny day in Port Jefferson. Before meeting a friend at Star Bucks, I made a beeline for the harbor where the ferry runs back and forth to Bridgeport. Instead of focusing on some aspect of the large boats loaded with cars, I found myself heading to the small beach where I gravitated toward these algae-covered pilings.

Beyond my attraction to the lime green, I often find that symmetry predominates many of my images where the simple law of thirds constitutes the composition. And then there are the surprises--the gold and green sunspots that many photographers try to avoid, but in this case seem to coordinate so well and add interest to the image.

Holy

In observance of Yom Kippur, this seemed like the right image to post today. Although I don't go to synagogue like I did in my youth and find other ways to connect spiritually, this highest of Jewish holy days still weighs on me. Marked as the day to atone for our sins and memorialize the dead, I still try to fast, but usually don't make it to sundown.

Interesting how this sad day falls in September, the most beautiful time of year here on the East End. The water has warmed, the air has turned crisp, and the ski seems bluer. As I walked along the beach in Westhampton the other day, I took pictures observing all three. But then I came upon this black rock that had washed up on shore and was shimmering in the sand, soft to the touch, filled with pores. I leaned in close, was again captivated by all the nooks and crannies.

Gazing at it now, I wonder if those are my sins or the people I have lost. Whatever the case, it's definitely holy...

Saving the Seagull

Two weeks ago, I took a trip with my puppy to Cupsogue Beach at the end of Westhampton Dunes--a seaside park preserved by the county wedged between the ocean and the bay--to check out the venue for my next photography class. Moseying along taking in the sights, Copper darted suddenly toward the water, howling like the hound he is.

Flapping one wing, a large bird lumbered into the water; it happened so fast that it took me a minute or so to realize it was a wounded seagull. Quickly, I tied the dog to a post and rushed back to the bird who was struggling in the water. Reaching for my camera, I took one photograph before he emerged from the foam dragging a broken wing.

What do I do? I thought panicking.

Fumbling for my cellphone, I made a few calls and found the number for the Wildlife Refuge Center of the Hamptons. While waiting for the volunteer to arrive from Hampton Bays, I shot 66 frames as my dog continued to howl.

At one point a wave knocked the gull onto his back. I approached slowly and was surprised when he allowed me to gingerly flip him back onto his feet. Making eye contact, he reminded me of my puppy when I rescued him a few weeks before.

After that, he stood nearby posing in thanks as we continued to wait. Here are 13 images presented as a slide show; just one couldn't possibly do him justice.

To view, just click the forward arrow at your own pace.

Catch

Sunny and in the sixties, I donned my sunhat, grabbed my camera, and headed for the beach. Although I live just five minutes away, I hadn't been there since December.
Upon arriving, I marched downed to the shoreline aiming my lens at the surf. But the waves themselves failed to hold my interest. As the whitecaps moved in and out, my eye gravitated to the impressions left on the sand just as the water receded.
Then I started to see things, shapes that looked like fish stenciled in the sand. The more I looked the more I found. Schools of fish one after the other. Incredulous, I snapped away zooming in and out. I had to work fast since they dried and disappeared as quickly as I spotted them.
Once I was fairly certain I'd caught something worth writing about, I stored my camera in the bag slung over my shoulder and moseyed down the beach enjoying the long-awaited sun. About ten minutes later, however, I happened upon the most remarkable catch of all. So I reached back in and captured this.

Wintertime Shooting

Most of us who love to wander around taking photographs dread the winter. This year with the frigid temperatures here on the East End of Long Island, it's been especially challenging to push myself out the door and brave the elements. Although I can be adventurous, I'm not one of those die-hards who rushes out into a storm to capture the monstrous sky and torrent of snow and ice. I've learned that if I wait until after the storm when the sun comes out, there is much beauty to be found.

Here's an image I took with my Canon EOS Rebel XSI near Roger's Beach in Westhampton after the late December storm that dumped two feet of snow on the area. Up until recently, I resisted going digital and shot exclusively on film using a medium format camera. I must admit that the lighter, more compact camera made it easier to maneuver, performed beautifully and even withstood the impact when I slipped on the ice.