Fleeting Moments

Lately, we have been getting a lot of rain. When that happens, it usually means you can count one thing, a sky full of colors in the evening. When I took this image, I didn't realize children were in the picture until later. I was too busy making sure I didn't drop the camera in the water. In any case, it was a lucky happenstance caused by the wide-angle of the lens. All good things are fleeting and come to an end. But taking photos is a passion for me, partly because it saves a moment to re-experience later. Pictures like this are memory pills that cause neurons to fire, bringing back moments, and sometimes surprises.

Sunday Reflections

Most Sundays, I take a drive along country roads. Sometimes the most significant thing to see is the river, clouds, and reflections. With all the urban growth, I started driving further out. The funny thing is that if I drive far enough, I'll end up approaching the outskirts of another metropolis. Open spaces are dwindling. I'd like to think other places are still wide open. Like maybe some of the western states, or the prairies. But in reality, every little inch of space from coast to coast is owned. Or at least we like to think so. But I am reminded that the land is much older than our relatively new claims upon it.

Emerson Point Clouds

To get here, you walk through a jungle trail, and it's easy to get a bit disoriented. That is until you pop out from the brush at sunset. The image I took here is similar to one I did from the same spot a half dozen years ago. The clouds and weather ensure each image will be different, and I never tire of it. Due to the full range of light and the difficulty of shooting into the sun, this is a combination of at least five photos. I combined the images with AuroraHDR and then parts of it re-layered in Photoshop. In some respects, this is a painting, in that the light was blended to create a picture. That creative process I find satisfying, even if it is the same scene on a different day.

When I See It

If you head down this road for three minutes, you'll end up at the gulf. If you go the other direction for about two hours, you'll end up at the Atlantic. Only in, Florida. I was leaving the gulf and stopped for a different shot when I happened to look back; that's how I came to take this photo. Most of the pictures I take originate from this rather haphazard approach. That's not to say I don't occasionally plan; it's just that planning and this type of photography are only loosely connected. Having a plan gets me out of the house, and that's where the connection ends. Once out of the house, the struggle is figuring out what photos to take; to solve that I try to stay open and aware of what's around me. Over the years, I've developed an aesthetic which largely stems from my personality. So, when I go out to take photos, even though I may not know what I'm looking for, I will generally know it when I see it.

Longboat Key Public Pier

Docks are kind of a big thing here; everybody seems to have one. Dock Life is the new Salt Life; only you don't get wet. Not that I know the first thing about docks or salt. I'm one of three people that doesn't have one. Most of the docks in Florida are private, and they have No Trespassing signs posted. That's a shame, but I suppose it makes sense. Anyway, some of the best are public, like this one in Longboat Key. It's next to a couple of restaurants so you can dock the boat and have dinner. Near my home is a commercial marina with a couple of hundred yachts. It's also next to a restaurant, appropriately named Dockside Grill.

Bradenton Causeway

The Bradenton causeway has advantages over the beach. You can park at the water's edge, and there aren't nearly as many rules. At this spot, you can generally see horses in the water. But I was here on a Monday, and they weren't. The causeway isn't fancy, but if you want to spend time at the water without the parking hassles, this is it. Many people prefer the beach with its powdery white sand. However, a lot of the locals come here. Just drive up, pull out a lawn chair and Bob's your uncle.

RR Crossing

If you've ever had a drink of orange juice, chances are it crossed these tracks. The Tropicana train crosses this river. I live within earshot, so I hear the horn in the morning and at night. It's part of the soundscape of my hometown. The idea of a town having a soundscape is new to me, but if I were blind, I'd know it very well. If you look closely at the patterns on the water, you can see the direction of flow. The eddies caused by the supports are on the downstream side. But as this river flows into the ocean, the direction changes with the tide. As the tide changes, the flow is non-existent. But that's another shot for another day.

Wave Motion

The best things about the water are the feeling of weightlessness and, the motion of the waves. Makes me wonder what it's like to be a dolphin. Speaking of which we see them all the time along the beach. Generally, dolphins swim by in pods or family groups. Many have returned since the end of the last red tide. I take a lot of these shots and just can't seem to get enough of them. It reminds me of times I visited Hawaii and would float for long stretches in the water, rocking with the waves. Now that I live in Florida, it's ironic that I can go whenever I want but seldom do.

Beach Dunes

This picture is another in a series of dunes on Anna Maria Island. This might not be the most exciting thing you see today. A lot of effort goes into protecting these dunes and the natural flora that grows here. There are signs every thirty feet or so warning people to use the bridges to cross over to the beach. Even so, I've seen a few idiots disregard the signs and walk over the plants. I guess not everyone has a brain. Anyway, I love taking photos of these because they are an additional dimension to the landscape of the beach. And for the most part, they are the only place that the plants have a place to grow freely. Unlike dunes in the Sahara, these don't blow away or change their shape. We have the untrampled plants to thank for that.

Mouth of the Manatee

I took this photo at the mouth of the Manatee River. I live further upstream in the esophagus. It's curious how we anthropomorphize everything. DeSoto National Memorial Park is in the heart of Bradenton. Having grown up in the west, I still find it odd to have a national park in an urban area. To see the sunset like this, you walk into the park after closing. Doing so I thought I'd be alone but found a crowd along the shore, all with the same idea. After sunset, I took a quiet trail back to avoid the crowds. However, the trails have lifesize cutouts of historical figures, and more than once, I was startled by conquistadores and aboriginals staring back at me. It was a little unnerving, to say the least.

Week Ends

The feeling at the end of the week, knowing there's no work the next day, is pretty awesome. Before a long weekend, it's even better. This photo is a reminder of how good we have it here in Florida: that's directed at those of us that live here because it's easy to forget. Living along the coast, you develop a sense of normalcy about living where others vacation. So it's good to get away for some perspective and then come back. It's human nature; nothing lasts forever, even that feeling at the start of a long weekend.

Mood Swings

The weather can be a metaphor for emotions. It can be bright and sunny one day, gloomy the next. I can imagine wind as a metaphor for thoughts, blowing through the mind, never-ceasing. We draw on the forces of nature to represent our inner experiences. Maybe our internal environment follows some of the same laws of physics; like fluid dynamics. Anyway, this picture is of two people fishing at the pier on a foggy day. At least, that's what it appears to be on the surface. Beyond that, it could be something much closer to home.

Footprint

I would post this photo along with some original words. But it seemed a little too cliché. When I look at a simple thing, my mind wanders. That's a life long habit I've acquired. It's too easy to get distracted with the first thought that comes to mind. Maybe it sounds silly, but it's a measure of how life is when we cannot focus on something uncomplicated. When we were children, before our brains developed, we could be easily delighted. Some scientist suspect that the ability to be fascinated with simple things diminishes with the development of the default mode network in the brain. Whether that's the case or not, it does make me wonder what our developed brains cause us to overlook.

Florida Flora

Whenever I visit a preserve in Florida, I spend time trying to figure out what to shoot. Sometimes the answer is right in front of me. There is beauty in endemic flora that's easy to overlook. I tend to get preoccupied with subjects and the composition, but simple scenes like this are as vibrant as any mountain landscape; it's a matter of perspective and scale. There are realms within a tangled garden, micro-ecosystems that, while imperceptible to us, are just as alive. Our minds operate in familiar regions; we habituate our vision to the human society we know. But shift focus just a little, and there are other worlds in plain view we rarely acknowledge.

Tweet Storm

I have never been at the center of a Tweet Storm unless of course, we are referring to squawks on the beach. Maybe this is a good metaphor for that. Speaking of which, I just heard the in-depth interview of Jack Dorsey on Sam Harris's podcast. (https://samharris.org/podcasts/148-jack-dorsey/) The guy is pretty zen, way more than I expected. Long story short, Twitter is a work in progress and, from what I can glean, Jack has his heart in the right place. I'm not much of a Twitter guy, I just tweet my photos, but that's probably not the ideal use case. I do like to follow certain people, but I'm not really into participating in public discourse. I'm more contemplative and keep my thoughts to myself. I'm not sure if that's a good thing; but let just say, it is what it is.

The Nest

This newly constructed building is a wedding venue at Robinson Preserve. If anyone objects to the union, they fall through a trap door and come out the bottom. When not used for weddings, it's available for corporate events or education. It's called the NEST which stands for Nature, Exploration, Science and, Technology. It's one of the more compelling structures to come along recently, so naturally, I had to take a photo. The preserve borders on the Gulf of Mexico so it's built up high on legs to avoid a tidal surge. I've seen a lot more of this type of construction lately. With the new summer storm season starting shortly, it's probably a wise idea.

Around the Corner

It's too easy to spend time in the future worrying about what's just around the corner. But "spending time" is a misnomer: we cannot spend what we don't have. Maybe one day we'll figure out how to time travel. When that happens, will we be in a memory or a moment? In our minds, we time-travel quite a lot. The irony is, it wastes time. I've heard and read that time is an illusion, something in our minds. Not being in the present is like a treadmill that never stops. Maybe it's better to just try and be present in the moment.

Beach Battle

There is a barrier of dunes that run the length of Anna Maria Island. Plants grow in the dunes and as a result, protect it from the onslaught of the sea. It's incredible how nature comes up with devices to protect one thing from another. The forces of nature are regularly at war, and the results of the conflict create a boundary that, in this instance, we call a beach. Sometimes I like to get down into the trenches with the troops. In this case, I found a path through the dunes at Manatee Beach. People came to enjoy the sense of peace and tranquility. However, as summer approaches, it will invariably bring new storms that test the resolve of these little dunes. May they hold fast and secure.

Old Seawall

This old seawall was part of the old bridge across Tampa Bay. It was hit by a ship and collapsed in 1980. The new bridge starts here as well but is virtually indestructible. Here is a link to the story with pictures of the event from forty years ago. (https://www.tampabay.com/photos/2018/05/09/the-sunshine-skyway-bridge-plunged-into-tampa-bay-38-years-ago/). These days this sea wall and the remnants of the old bridge are used for recreation and fishing. I took this photo about three years ago. However, lately, there is an on-going project to re-enforce the seawall so that it doesn't erode. Because I drive by it several times a week, I was getting tired of seeing the construction equipment. But upon reflection, and through a longer lens of history, it's probably good that they take all the time they need to get it right.

Obstructed View

There are so many mangroves along the water that quite often the view is obstructed. But maybe in some cases, it's a good thing. I was walking along a hidden shoreline at Emerson Point in the afternoon when I took this photo. I'm not sure what prompted me, but it seems the focus on the foliage is the subject of this image. Foreground elements are essential, especially in environmental or landscape shots. They're a good idea anyway because they tend to be the first thing we focus on. As our eyes wander, we travel from foreground to the background. The trick in photography is to make that journey enjoyable.

Magical Walkway

This is a magical walkway leading to a hidden land where the sun rests each night. Or, its a boardwalk over the Mangroves in Palmetto. We report, you decide. All the pictures I've published this week are landscapes with water and clouds. Perhaps that has me in a mood to concoct fantasies about the scenery. Fantasies are natural for children, why not us? I think it's cool how the leading line points to the sun. I got this photo from my 2015 archives. Maybe it was my lack of imagination that kept it hidden for so long. Or, perhaps it was meant to be buried forever, protecting the secrets of Neverland from humanity.

Westward Gaze

This is a common scene at the beach and a good illustration of why I prefer the west coast of Florida. Or for that matter, the west coast of anywhere. Sure, you can get up early to see the sunrise on the east, but it's not the same. Watching the sun sink into the ocean at the end of the day is observed facing west only. According to astonomy.com (http://www.astronomy.com/magazine/ask-astro/2017/12/galaxy-rotation), about half of the galaxies rotate clockwise like ours, and the other half counterclockwise. That means that planets in other galaxies, and maybe a few in our own, have planets with the sunset in the east — something to think about.