Return again and again to a subject. Love it. Need it. Be forever surprised by it.
This is my creative mantra, it seems, whether I'm creating with words or photography.
I first shot the above intracoastal waterway with a bright, hot sun was setting straight in front of me.
Pinckney Nature Preserve
Hilton Head Island
February, 2017
It was a magical moment of discovery, but almost too bright for me to be able to work without a filter, which I didn't own at the time.
I worked anyway. I loved what I got. Enough to need more...
I took in my surroundings and the view, making mental notes.
I noticed shorebirds all over, in the shadows, watching and avoiding me.
I stayed until the sun set behind the heavier than useful cloud cover, telling myself I'd come back when the sky was lighter and things would "pink up" better once blues and purples skimmed the horizon.
I worked out how I might shoot different angles from different vantage points.
The next night, I arrived just before sunset and once more found those shorebirds.
Pinckney Nature Preserve
Hilton Head Island
February, 2017
They were my subject until the harsher glare faded to cooler tones. They were hanging in the same area. I more carefully approached, keeping my distance with a longer lens.
I found this little guy in the shallows, where the sun's glow had set the water to blazing the night before.
I remember being mesmerized by the water's neon trail as it washed in and out of the shore grass, driven by the tide's ebb and flow.
Once the blue hour took its turn, I captured again that shiny streak of light, this time amidst deeper shadows.
This image was captured from between the same strand of trees as above.
I wanted a longer view.
Pinckney Nature Preserve
Hilton Head Island
February, 2017
The sun faded, the spotted sky's unnatural pattern spotlighted.
No trees for this image.
Only the big sky.
That amazing life-altering vista.
Pinckney Nature Preserve
Hilton Head Island
February, 2017
Finally, there remained the peaceful calm of barely-there-light.
Probably my favorite shot.
I'd stayed this time until the light faded completely and then some.
I was amply rewarded.
Nothing "spectacular."
Nothing earth-shattering.
Just a moment. A memory. The watery world of my childhood gently rocking itself to sleep. I wish you could have been there to know the quiet of it.
I'll be returning to it time and time again--in these pictures, with my camera, with you if you like.
You're always welcome to join me ;0)