It is cold today, even as the sun shines without clouds it is still cold. I look towards the summer when the beach is populated again. When people blossom out of the whole cloth of winter, and toast their bodies in the warmth of the sun.
In California, cold is relative, and relatively speaking, not very cold at all. … Still, I wear a jacket.
A shower is always nice, be it a Surfers Shower, or a rain across the land.
The soothing water washes the sand and salt from the surfer. A gentle rain washes the settled dust, and grime from the plant leaves and streets. Rain feels good on the leaves of plants and on the flesh of mankind.
This young man, leaning against the post that supports the shower, is completely relaxed, content, in love with this moment in his life. The not cold, not hot, water courses through his hair, and down his wetsuit, creeping into all the nooks and crannies of his body.
I think I will go take a shower now, lean against the tile, and let the water warm and wash me clean.
In the past, I have been feeling like this little boat, continually working my little effort, and not seeing much change.
But lately, things have seemed to be moving forward. Once my little boat finally started the mass moving, it is still moving, and all the continued effort seems to be additive, and the movement is accelerating.
Why do I talk about a sextant today? I have always loved tools. And a sextant is one of those magical tools of the mariners, but that is not the whole reason.
Most people know the sextant as a tool to find ones latitudinal location on the planet, it does do that. But practically, it is a measurer of angles. Usually, it is seen used in the upright vertical position measuring the angle of the sun, or a star by navigators of the ocean, but it can also be used horizontally on its side to measure the angles between known things, like a couple mountain tops, to find a precise location on the planet.
So this posting is really about location. … My location, where am I going, and what am I doing?
Today, I am thinking about this sextant, and plotting my course for my future in photography. … I could use a few hands along the way. … And for all my friends, “Fair Winds and Following Seas.”
I was wandering around Gila Bend, Arizona, and saw this rusted old water tower that was standing right beside the railway lines.
It no longer functions as a tower, but it surely does look good in a photograph. The light is from mid afternoon. And the clouds are the remnants of last nights rain.
Santa Catalina Island, as seen from the Palos Verdes Peninsula.
The reason Los Angeles was clear, and as beautiful as it was on this day, is that a gentle off shore breeze had pushed all that normally obscures the city out into the sea. There it sits, as a golden haze, obscuring the plane where land and water meets.
Still, it is a pretty picture of a wave wrapping itself around a small point of land.
Just to let you know that we had dinner here, just after sunset, and I liked it very much.
We sat out on the patio, without heaters turned on, and it was wonderful.
I shot this image from the seat next to where I was sitting, just to get a little closer to the water. … As it is, you can read the restaurants name on the sea wall if you twist your eyes a little. In the background, you can see the Thomas Vincent Bridge, and on the right you can see the larger cranes that were loading a container ship as we sat there.
Tides go in, and tides go out. Each tide is different depending on the location of the moon, the sun, and in reality, the rest of the universe. … But mostly, the moon and the sun.
I like the low tides because they reveal secrets of the coast normally unseen. And it is always magical to see things to the far range of their environmental envelope. The grasses in this image are under the ocean, twisting in the currents of the tidal zone 99.9+% of their lives. But on these very special days they live, like mountain climbers on Mount Everest, looking out at a world unknown to them, except in their dreams.
These animals are so graceful in the water, and lumbering giants on land.
I shot a whole set of images of these strong animals, just north of San Simeon, on a trip to San Francisco. I do not know how to tell the age of the Alice, but it was my feeling, if she were human, she would be about twenty-seven years old, and she liked me enough to be as curious about me, as I was about her.
I was very lucky with this image because their eyes are so dark, they usually look like black marbles, but this time she turned her head to face me, and the sun finally lit up her windows.
Fish. … I love them. And this image of a golden Koi fish in a pond, surrounded by deep blue ripples in a pond just makes my day. That fish seems to be looking right at me, and talking to my insides. … At the very least, we are making eye contact, so that our consciously aware of each other.
This was taken at the Self Realization Fellowship in Encinitas California.