"We are in the habit of imagining our lives to be linear, a long march from birth to death in which we mass our powers, only to surrender them again, all the while slowly losing our youthful beauty. This is a brutal untruth. Life meanders like a path through the woods. We have seasons when we flourish and seasons when the leaves fall from us, revealing our bare bones. Given time, they grow again."
- Katherine May
This morning I watched as the incoming tide inundated some rocks and meandered around others. Each wave different from the last in how it advanced and what it targeted. I have yet to solve the predictability puzzle associated with the incoming tide. I can't predict when the large waves will get to where I'm standing. Nor can I project with any accuracy what the water will look like as it flows over and around the rocks. That means I will create a number of similar images and see which, if any, hold promise when I start the editing process. Of the 15 I recorded of this scene, this was the only one that had all the elements I was looking for.
The ocean meanders around the coquina. I meander up and down the beach, moving toward and away from the water as I look for the right combination of light, movement, shapes, and patterns. I intend to make the most of this season of my life.
