Ahh, the Oregon coast. Every time I visit, the experience is way to brief and particularly unpredictable. I get up early, stay out late, and hope for good skies and great waves.
Admittedly, I have often felt defeated when I return from these trips. I view my coastal images with some disappointment. Where is the energy, the vibrance, the rich glowing tones that I know I felt as I stood on the Pacific edge. Perhaps it is the lack of wind blowing sea spray across the rocky shoreline, or the ominous sound of waves swelling to pound the rocks at my feet. The ocean touches all of my senses, and maybe it just can't be captured with a camera.
Or can it?
When I look at the images, I can't feel the wind, but I can see the misting across the foreground rocks, captured using longer exposure times. I don't hear the roar of the surf, but I can see the tossing and turning of sea water broken by angry white-capped waves.
I see the sun collapsing to the horizon as magenta sweeps texture and dimension across the sky; I see silhouettes of sea stacks and islands, and I am reminded of the wonder of that moment, standing with my feet buried in the sand, cold Pacific water splashing up to my knees, and the salty smells of surf and kelp filling my lungs. I can feel the moment, hear the moment, and be in that moment again.
Perhaps, in a way, the ocean experience can be captured. Just like a sea shell held to the ear, images bring me back to the edge, and let me experience the Pacific one more time.
Check out my ocean collection to see more of my coastal fine art images.