When winter drags on (and on), I have to get creative to find subjects to photograph. It will be weeks before the snow melts and we are able to see the sand on the shorelines. So I lose myself in indoor activities: reading, knitting, writing, and making pictures.
This weekend, I played with sand and stones in a mini zen garden. Partly, this was to create pictures; and partly, this was to remember what summer felt like.
Eventually, the snow will melt (if it ever stops falling), and I will be able to get out with my camera again. Until then, I’ll pretend.
This makes me happy: Sitting on a quilt on the beach, watching my children splash in the water, and feeling the sand slip between my fingers.
I wait for the sea.
I wait through the long winters and the rainy days. As soon as it is warm enough, I pack my beach blanket and a book (and toys for the kids) and head to the sea.
It is a soothing, calming place and I cannot get enough of it.
The tide was out when we arrived at the beach.
Sand bars like smooth islands shone in the sunlight, speckled by seagulls and seashells. The water was a mirror for the shoreline.
It was morning and the beach was almost empty, so few footprints interrupted the patterns made by the tide. Ripples, salt lines, pebbles, and snail trails embellished the sand.
The sea makes its own art.