I wasn’t absolutely sure which photograph to post today. I haven’t been taking photographs in a long time and today, by sheer force of will, I took myself to Garretstown to have a look at how the Atlantic was behaving. She was on her way in. She hadn’t yet reached the high tide point when I was there; I was gone an hour before she did.
But she was high and she was having a good bite out of the land. This is one of the seafronts; I was standing on another looking over with a 500mm lens when from nowhere – ie, from nowhere I was looking – she took a good spit at me, drowned me, and gave my camera and its 500mm zoom a nice bit of a shower. End of photography.
I intend to take more photographs this year than I did last year. I took some nice photographs, of which my favourite were a couple of the wave at the foot of the Cliffs of Moher, but compared to the previous five or six years, I essentially took no photographs. You can see this in the photographs now and probably in the processing. I’m out of practising.
I chose this photograph for today because I liked the scale of its story. The sea will never be fully pushed back no matter how many walls we build to protect ourselves. Also, the water was cold.
I know this for practical reasons.