While I normally don’t think of myself as a desert rat per se, when I do some serious self-examination, that is where I find my imagination wandering. Deserts can be funny places; you can sit all day in the shade of juniper a tree without so much as seeing a lizard flit across the sand, yet you can observe the diversity and health of the ecosystem all around you. Most people–myself often included–don’t often have the patience to sit and wait for something (anything) to happen here. This is the wilderness after all, and action can be a bit hard to come by.
So it was that I recently found myself at Montaña de Oro State Park, on California’s central coast. Far away from my much-loved desert, I spent several hours exploring the rocky coastline, climbing on the rocks and looking for a spot to photograph sunset. Waves crushed the rocks along the beach relentlessly, finding their way into every cove, crack, and crevice, over and over again. As soon as one wave left, another would come, inflicting its wrath on the rocks. For millions of years this has been happening, shaping the shoreline into what it is today.
Carving out a cave, October 2012
There is something mesmerizing about being near the ocean. Maybe it’s the rhythmicity or the the ability of the waves to drown out the voices in my head, I don’t know. Whatever it is, I feel calmed and soothed, regardless of whether I walk along a calm beach or next to a violent shoreline being battered by relentless waves.
I often imagine what it would be like to be alone on a kayak far out at sea. The thought frightens me a little bit, the feeling of loneliness that would accompany that could easily be overwhelming. I suspect the hours would pass slowly, just waiting for something (anything) to happen, and it would feel like a million miles away from the seemingly busy shoreline. In this context, it should become obvious that the ocean is wilderness too, and should be celebrated as such. However, just like our terrestrial wildernesses, the ocean is being exploited, overfished, polluted.
“Fifty million buffalo once roamed the rolling green prairies of North America. Gunners reduced them to near extinction. Now, hunters are at work on the rolling blue prairies of the sea, and already, the big fish – including miracles like thousand-pound, warm-blooded bluefin tuna – are 90 percent gone. What we regret happening on land, may again happen in the sea. Those who care about wildlife should get to know about oceans.”
–Carl Safina, Comes a Turtle, Comes the World
Seascape, October 2012
From a photographic point of view, beaches have been called the easiest places to put together a compelling composition. I can’t argue, but I definitely don’t believe that oceans (or beaches for that matter) are simple places. They are beautifully complex, life-giving, and they need to be celebrated by everyone, whether they’ve set foot in an ocean or not. Sitting at Montaña de Oro, I am reminded that I need the sea as much as I need my beloved desert.
I agree Greg. The ocean and the desert are different worlds, and they pull at your emotions in different ways.
Montana de Oro is certainly a perfect location for exploring the complexities of the sea and shoreline, and you’ve provided some fine examples.
Thanks, Russ! I’d love to get back up there, especially once we have some clearing storms this winter! I think it could make for a great combination of dramatic ocean and lovely skies.
I too am a desert rat, from January to May I explore the Sonoran desert and feel so at home shooting that wilderness. But I think these ocean photos are stunning, and it’s a perspective to think about — the wilderness of the desert, the wilderness of the ocean…
Thank you.
Hi, Bo. Thanks for stopping by! I think there’s a lot of consolation in how you write your comment…wilderness is indeed all around us. Like all things in life, how we choose to respond to it is up to us.
Very nice post Greg – couldn’t agree more. I always feel my soul gets recharged at the ocean, that I am returning to a primal place where we all came from. You are also quite right about the pressures it is under…our very survival depends on keeping what covers 75% of our planet healthy.
Thanks, Mark. I know from reading your blog that you do have a personal connection with the ocean; it is a very calming and recharging place. It also does these things in a way that the mountains or desert just can’t do. I can’t explain it really.
First of all, excellent images. I agree the ocean and beaches offer us more than just beautiful image opportunities. The spiritual gift they give us is the real gift. Your post has stirred my desire to make a return trip to the ocean. I love that quote and feel its truth ring within me. Thanks!
Hi, Monte! First of all, thanks for stopping by, and second of all, thanks for leaving a comment. It’s funny that in writing this post and reading comments like yours, I am becoming more and more inspired to spend more time at the ocean this winter. I think it’s time I got to know it better…
Hi Greg, another really nice article. I really like that last shot – what a wonderful foreground!
Sharon
Many thanks, Sharon! I always appreciate you stopping by!
I love photographing the ocean. Your desert rock photographing translates well to photographing the rocks worn by the sea.
I also meant to say that your images have a great sense of motion in the water as well as timelessness with the rocks.
Thanks, David. I never quite thought about it that way, but you’re right…there is a translation here that reflects my style.
Nice one Greg, good to see some of your images that aren’t “all” red 🙂
I’ve spent a lot of time in both mountainous and ocean environments, and I have to say if I could have only one, it would be the ocean. The profusion of life, the rhythm of the tides and changeable weather all instill in me a sense of real life.
Yes, a wilderness out there in the deep blue, but massively thriving ecosystems inshore.
Looking forward to more of your wet-footed wanderings…
Thanks, Ali. I’ll have to get out there a bit more. California’s central coast isn’t that far away!
And, no, my imagination doesn’t only wander to the redrock, but it comes pretty darn close! 🙂