I often wonder why people keep living in big cities. It's so polluted in there, so crowded... One feels anonymous and small among the stone-and-glass buildings, and the noise of the streets drowns every thought or feeling. I grew up in a large capital, and I spent enough time living in a metropolis to realize that I don't want to willingly confine myself in a place where people embrace public urination, where the signature sound is an ambulance siren, and the lines between wealth and poverty, happiness and hardship, truth and make-believe are all blurred. Sure, I love the theater, the museums and galleries, the abundance of lights and languages and tastes and colors. But I can't sleep in the city, I can't create there, and most importantly, I can't feel free. Being completely liberated trumps the benefits versatile culture could offer. That's just me. I'm a country gal, Nature's biggest fan so to speak. Nature is good.
This weekend we all drove down to the coast and visited Half Moon Bay. The last time I was there was mere days before Johnny was born. I was as large as a whale and I waddled around the beach very carefully. This time I was in a better shape, and speaking of whales, I could run as fast as one can run on the sand holding a camera when I spotted an actual whale near the surf break. A WHALE!!! It was a humpback and it was absolutely, utterly amazing. It never really breached as it was in the shallows, but I saw its back and it waved at us. It waved. Gosh, I felt so happy. People had gathered to watch the whale as it moved north following its food (probably fish and krill chased from the fish boats nearby) and you could sense a very sudden powershift - the whale inspired awe by simply being there. He was the most important thing, he was in the spotlight. And he deserved it. Whales rule.
There was something magical about the whole day. The fog didn't quite disperse the entire time we spent at the beach, and it all felt as if we were trapped in a giant milk bottle. Our lips were coated with a salty film, and my lens became misty, which gave my photos a certain soft-focus look. The quality of the light was impossibly bright, hence the overexposed portraits, but I loved everything about both the experience and the shots I took.
And the funniest part: You will never see a person more concerned with the sand stuck to his feet other than Johnny. He's such a neat boy it's hilarious.
Most of the images are taken with my kit and my trusty ole 50 mm lenses, and some are from the iPhone, edited with VSCOcam.