Piece of driftwood or ancient benthic beast? You decide.
As you might expect for a charming town on the Indian Ocean, St. Lucia is heavily carpeted with folks ready to sell anything and everything (to tourists, of course.) The waves were crashing just beyond this dune—I could already smell and hear them—but on this little rise, under the shade of the coniferous trees, beach towels and toys were for sale. The brightly colored array, flapping in the breeze in a strangely orderly way, brought to my mind nothing more than some strange local variation on a Shinto shrine.
Perhaps acorns scattered on the beach don’t really count as castles (as in I, II, III, and IV of the series), but the neural pathways (cliché incoming: imagination) of a six-year-old, they can be elegant abodes of elves or the landing pods of a tiny invasion force. I think they fit the theme nicely. During my trip to Connecticut last week (again, tragically bereft of my Nikon), I visited Lake Wononscopomuc, where I spent the summers (and winters) of my youth. It brought my back to the thinking of that “miniature me,” if only for a few minutes.
Today’s guest post comes courtesy of Zack Mensinger.
The meetings of rivers or creeks with the ocean are high on my list of favorite things to explore. There’s so much in the meeting of those fresh and salty bodies. When that combination happens along a small beach that you can easily explore and photograph, the possibilities can be nearly endless! In this particular setting, Limekiln Creek in Big Sur meets the Pacific Ocean in a swirling mix of flowing water and waves. Watching how the waves vortex around the flowing water of the creek can be almost hypnotic. Add in the great river rocks, the changing sand, sunset backdrop, and ever-present groups of seagulls and you have a great setting for photography where the timeless nature of the earth and ocean combines with the ever-changing nature of the same setting.
Another in my ongoing series of sand castle photographs (see I, II, and III), this shot comes from the gorgeous coast of southern Brazil. While everyone else is off playing in the surf, these two boys stayed behind on the beach to construct this complex of truly epic sand castles. (That sand castles are as wondrous and short-lived as childhood is perhaps too trite a metaphor for me to acknowledge in any way beyond the parenthetical.) I just love the universality of building sand castles on the beach–from the east coast to the west, and the from the northern hemisphere to the south, it’s a worldwide past time.
Shorewood beach at low tide is a completely different place from Shorewood beach at high tide, a place filled with tranquil tidal pools and beach combers. At low tide there are sandy beaches whereas at high tide the beaches are rocky. Pictured is the row of houses which is adjacent to Shorewood beach as shot from about halfway out to the low tide point.