May 24, 2020

Wide awake at midnight, I wondered what is out there? What will I see?  I saw stars out my window, the first time in several months. I was restless just imagining the photos. Staring at a computer for 14 hours a day, I started to lose my grasp of reality. I almost forgot stars could be seen by just simply looking outside my window. In the past weeks, whenever I take a short break outside, there is a dazed sensation of mediocrity. It’s almost as if being outside was an unfamiliar feeling for me now because I’m so used to having the exuberant world fed to me via two-dimensional screens with speakers. 

This year I decided to focus on photographing the Milky Way so I ordered a star tracker, something I’ve been wanting to get but feared of the potentially complicated setup. I asked myself as I do with every potential challenge, how hard can it be? It turned out, not difficult at all. I spent two hours in my backyard doing a test run right when the first stars were visible. At first I couldn’t tell if I was looking at the north star. I even looked south, east, and west, and realized, it was futile to be looking in those directions. The Little Dipper was too dim, but the Big Dipper was obvious even with the city lights. I finally thought I was certain of which star was the north star, got in the car at 12:30am and drove south along the coast. With no sight of fog or clouds, a rare occurrence, I knew a starry sky was waiting. There were only a few cars on the road the entire way and back, an eerie but serene feeling. When I got to the location, I could see other photographers light painting, and some with large telescopes; the excitement started.

It’s always a bit frightening being alone in the middle of the night somewhere out and about. Once I setup the tripod, aligned the tracker with Polaris, my remote release beeping, a sense of tranquility transpired. The stress I had all day about losing sleep, about venturing out, parking the car, had vanquished in that moment. I just stared up at the plethora of stars and nodded to myself in agreement with my decision. I simply wanted to see the stars to regain my connection with nature. I met another photographer and we chatted about the Milky Way alignment and the glaring amber boat lights in the distance. It’s always great to meet other people who enjoy the same pleasures.

Whenever I stare up at the cosmos, I realize I’m just a tiny speck living on a tiny speck in the universe, and no matter how big I think my ego is, I am insignificant. This rumination keeps me humble, makes me think about what it means to live, and to understand there is always something greater than myself.    

The stars are calling. 

March 7, 2020

I was with some of my friends tonight exploring the coast after a fun-filled day of tide pooling. As daylight faded, we hiked down a small cove and laid on the sand collecting tiny pieces of flamboyant sea glass. I made the call to head to another cove where we could have a view of the sunset, which was commencing in a matter of minutes. I often don’t remember the moment when I click the shutter. Seeing this photo afterward, it was instantly one of my favorites. I don’t know if it’s the pastel colors that intrigue me, the composition, or the herd of seals where some of them would be washed around by the waves while their eyes were still closed, protected from the wind and tumultuous sea by the towering rocky shelf. Maybe it is just a visual reminder that despite all the craziness that happens not far from here, there is stillness to be found. In that moment, there was nothing but the repetitive sound of the wind and waves, us and nature.

February 16, 2020

A combination of light offshore wind and clear skies made for a gorgeous morning at Coal Oil Point. A few surfers were out, but the waves were lackluster. As I contemplated what to do, a sudden light bulb went off in my head reminding me I had snorkel gear in my car. It may have been my only chance to get in the water that day and I didn’t want to go home dry.

At first I thought there wouldn’t be anything but kelp out there, so I expected just a relaxing swim. The water was clear but still lacked visibility when the sand got stirred up. I swam past the whitewash and slowly observed patches of kelp. About 50 yards out, I spotted schools of striped perch finding cover in the kelp. Around the point, surf grass completely covered the sea floor. As a wave passed overhead, the surf grass would drift back and forth, revealing what was hiding underneath for a brief moment before returning to its original position. I got giddy when I saw California spiny lobsters for the first time in the wild. I had a staring contest with a Calico Bass, then drifted with the surf perch through the surf grass. I love it here.

February 15, 2020

I had a choice this weekend, stay comfortably at home, or go somewhere. I had three days off but no particular location in mind. The forecast called for light winds and sunny skies. I told myself there had to be some clear water somewhere along the coast. I’ve never driven past Big Creek in Big Sur, so I thought I’d take a road trip down the 1 and visit a friend at UC Santa Barbara. There was still a moderate NW wind from Monterey to Bixby Bridge, but around the bend at Partington Cove, only a very mellow breeze. I could see the boulders and kelp through the emerald blue green waters.

The drive didn’t feel lengthy at all, partly because I was stopping at almost every turnout and checking out the view. Some of the notable stops were Sand Dollar Beach, Elephant Seal Vista Point, and Morro Rock. I made it to Goleta right in time for sunset, stopping at the Vista Point off the highway. Driving down the coast made me realize how much of my own backyard I haven’t even explored yet.

February 9, 2020

The NWS issued a gale warning with NNE winds forecasted to gust 45+ mph. While others would probably try and stay indoors for the day, I thought of two south facing coastal regions that might be groomed offshore. I worried it may be too offshore, similar to the day in October, but you never know unless you go. As I pulled up late morning to my favorite spot in Santa Cruz, I was delighted with the sight of decent size lines and every wave was the epitome of a green room. The wind gusts were strong enough to shake my SUV at times. As I suited up and climbed down to the beach, I unexpectedly saw my old bodyboarding buddies, who were also getting ready to paddle out as well. We all had a couple hours of fun, I met some new folks out in the lineup and was able to send them photos afterward. These are the days I live for.