Crescent Bay, February 2007
I very much like vertical panoramas, chore that they be. I have to turn and mount my camera on its side, which is awkward at best. And usually a little alarming, especially over such a sloggy spot as this. I’m ashamed to admit that I tend to let occasions go by to spare the hassle, but this I couldn’t resist. I made two exposures of this shot; after the first I turned and noticed that a tripod leg had sunk to its first knuckle in the sand.
Local spaces are wonderful. The more often you go the more you’re rewarded. A mile from my house, it surprises me whenever I have Crescent Beach to myself, and I do very often, early and late in the day. It’s such a close, wild place. A faint scalloped departure from the heavy maritime traffic of the Straits of Juan de Fuca, so shallow you could almost wade to the horizon. When the tide is low the beach is enormous and ever changing. High bluffs and basalt shelves and a mingling of fresh and salt water in the Salt Creek delta that are habitat to bald eagles, Canada geese, great blue heron, coots, grebes, kingfishers, oystercatchers, scoters, harlequin ducks, buffleheads and myriad other birds beyond reckoning. It’s a shame is that large format work is so slow; the lid of my fastest lens shutter feels like a lazy blinking eye always well behind their movements. So I have to settle for the more sedate pace of tides and shifting sand bars.