20. Jul, 2016

Portrait of life

They say a picture is worth a thousand words and if that’s the case then my growing interest in photography is making me a lazy writer. It’s so much easier to snap a shot than paint a picture with the written word.

I left home without my camera this morning. So when I stopped at the beach on my return journey, rather than gazing in awe at the magical beauty before me I instead sat in my car, unlaced my shoes, peeled off my socks, rolled up my jeans and headed to the water’s edge.

Sinking deeply into damp sand my legs tired quickly. The coarseness of the sand between my toes and the chill of the winter’s sea can still be felt. They tingle and almost burn with life.

The tide was on the make. Gentle waves broke where the sand rose steeply at the gutter’s edge.

To my delight, bordering the lip of the drop-off were millions of multi-coloured shells of all shapes and sizes twisting and rolling in time with the breaking waves. They churned back and forth in rhythm with the ocean, serenading me. Their rippling, rolling song can still be heard resonating in my ears. I wanted to strip down and throw myself in, joining in their rapturous symphony of serenity.

With the air still and the sea calm, optimistic fishermen scattered the shoreline – one man casting a line with a pilchard attached sat patiently and hopeful, the other, using worms for bait was having more luck successfully catching himself a free feed of sand whiting.

Scattered clouds to the west painted the sky in a warm hue; not harsh and unforgiving like a hot summer’s day.

The far off vista was a vision to behold, unhindered by pollution, a windswept salty sea or smoke from burning fires the clarity of the sky was incredulous. The sands of Stockton are still recovering from recent violent storms, but before me was a day of healing, a feast for the eyes, a feast for the heart and a feast for the soul and one of nature's finest.

Walking toward the water, my eyes fixed on the burnt orange sand swallowing water like a sponge, I pondered on the transience of life and how moments such as the one I was experiencing are so fleeting.  And although I was very much ensconced in deep thought, I was also acutely aware of my surroundings because I wasn’t just looking at them, we had merged and I had become one with them.

It was almost like I had stepped into an award winning photograph! But this was a three dimensional photo and I was, for the first time in a very long time, a living, breathing, thoughtful and present participant in the portrait of life.

Genuine moments like these are to be treasured, wrapped up in the finest of silks and tucked away for safe keeping, to be recalled and remembered at times when the wonder of fascination and the vibrance of colour begins to fade to grey.