Tuesday, June 16, 2015
I was up early last week-end, determined to catch the sunrise at the beach. Of course, it was an incredibly cloudy day, and the sun didn't rise so much as the level of grey brightened as time passed. It was still in incredible morning. It was drizzly, and cloudy, and so there were very few people out at that time of the morning. It was low tide, and the beach was flat and wet and moody and gorgeous. I took photos from the pier, and then went down onto the beach, and decided to walk from Hermosa Pier to Manhattan Pier along the water's edge since it was so flat and the waves were small.
As the light brightened, it got even more beautiful. I have to say that even on a grey, drizzly, overcast day, I have yet to regret getting up early to go down to the beach.
As I was walking I noticed the way the water trickled back after a wave. Since the beach was so flat, and the waves languorous, the water slowly flowed back toward the tide, leaving gorgeous patterns in the sand that lasted until the next wave came. They looked like trees, or figures dancing on the sand. Abstract, ever-changing, transforming art that lasted just a while and then was gone. I took pictures, sometimes so enthralled by the figures, I only remembered where I was when a wave slowly enveloped my feet and soaked into my boots and socks, leaving me hopping from foot to foot as I rushed up the beach. I walked from one pier to the next, and then back again, taking pictures as the light changed, and the rain eased up and the beach filled with other people walking, jogging, surfing and fishing. As I passed two ladies walking along the water like myself, they smiled and asked me if I was taking pictures of the blobs of tar that scattered the beach and had been in the news due to their proliferation on our local beaches that week. I smiled back but they kept on walking, and I never got the chance to tell them what I was really taking pictures of.
It made me sad that they were missing the beautiful art at their feet, walking passed or even through it without even seeing the beauty. How much of our days are spent walking passed or through the beauty that the day brings, if only we would slow down to see it?
So I am posting these pictures of art that was, and is no more, with a gentle reminder to look slow down enough to notice the beauty that surrounds us.
To see larger versions of these, as well as other pictures taken on the beach that day, follow this link.