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My life is ruled by the tides. After 68 years on the planet, I am finally learning how they progress from day to day and tying my motion to theirs. I have become an avid reader of tide charts and obsessive about being available to the low tide. I am eager for full moon and new moon, because they draw lower low tides in their wake. I am resentful when low tide is in the dark hours. Suddenly I need low tides, because I want to scramble around the rocks and peer into rock pools without getting wet.

I walk barefoot along the beach, enjoying the warmth of the water even though autumn is progressing. When I reach the rocky outcrops at the end of Potato Point beach, I put on my shoes and begin the day's explore. I've been photographing rock faces for a long time. That passion survives, but my new one takes primacy. I want to photograph creatures in the pools that are inundated at high tide. The last few days there's been a good haul: chiton and a colony of turban shells; at least three different anemones; two different species of starfish (maybe); and two different crabs sharing a pool.

I haven't got to the point of naming yet. I just want to see with my eye, and then with that adjunct eye, my camera. I want to deluge friends with email photos, and swipe through what I've seen as I crop, rotate and savour. Slowly I'm learning a few of the skills of photographing a new landscape. The most obvious one is eradicating pieces of myself; my shadow and my feet.

 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

 

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