After the Crowd Files Off.
· by Roy Edlund
On a morning like this one, the sky looks promising. I admit to being a little giddy with excitement, the way I always get at this time of day.
The sky is still dark, and the clouds on the horizon slowly light up red, orange, and pink. I’m set up, waiting, watching it build. I really love this part, the anticipation.
Then the sun finally peeks over the horizon, and just like that, it’s over. No fanfare. The clouds are gone, the sky is empty blue, and the sun hurts to look at. Everything I point the camera at looks washed out and flat. The majesty is gone and the day has started.
All the folks who gathered for the spectacle file off the beach, and I’m alone.
For a long time that felt like the day was spent. I’d gotten up in the dark, I’d gotten my shot or I hadn’t, and the rest was just the rest.
These days I pack up and head down the beach road.
Go on an expedition, as the professor used to say. He was our summer neighbor when I was a little kid, a university professor who could make a walk in the woods feel like a grand adventure.
I find a quiet spot back in the marsh where the trees throw some shade, and I start over.
Different light, slower pace. An egret standing in the shallows, not in any hurry. A row of slider turtles lined up on a log, soaking up the sun and plopping into the water one at a time if I get too close.
The morning light was beautiful. It just wasn’t the only light.
And sunset is not that far off.
Love from here. ❤️
You can start the day over at noon. Nobody said the reset only works at dawn. Beach Bum Code #95
Prints of the photos in this post are available in the Beach Bum Gallery on paper, canvas and metal.