Walk with Me to the Edge of the Pier
A Photographic Stroll in the Fog
Last Thursday, a dense fog enveloped the bay, catching my eye from a distance as we made our way home from the grocery store.
Something inside me perked up.
“I think I’ll drive down to the marina and take some photos,” I mentioned to Tina as we turned onto our street. She activated the garage door opener, positioning the car in front of our unit while I swiftly moved to the driver’s seat.
“Could you fill the gas tank while you’re there?” she asked as she grabbed the groceries from the trunk.
I nodded. “Yup, I’ll do that.”
“Okay, have fun!” she responded as she closed the garage door behind her.
So off I drove past the busy I-80 underpass towards the marina.
I parked along the row of condominiums opposite the viewpoint where the Port of Oakland was once visible but now shrouded in fog.
Perfect! I channeled Hiroshi Sugimoto on this image.
I returned to the car and glanced behind me. Since my friend Leigh circled her studio's still life setup for a school assignment many years ago, I've made it a habit to always look for unusual perspectives, hoping to capture something intriguing. Sure enough, I spotted one.
I drove further down the marina and parked the car on one of the empty lots. Last year, a ferocious storm blew 80/mph winds downing at least 30 trees in this area. The remnants are still evident today.
I captured images of the remaining few trees standing at the edge of the walking path. At this point, the fog was beginning to burn off.
I made my way to the pier swiftly capturing this image below before strolling to the edge. With the fog lingering over the bay in the distance, I hoped something spectacular awaited me.
Upon reaching the end, I turned my head to the right, and there it was, in all its glory.
I stood there in awe, watching as the sun danced in and out of the fog. A seagull happened to fly by just as I captured the scene. It felt like I was witnessing an apparition.
Staring at the bay view before me, I recalled these words by
from last Sunday’s post:Memento Vitae— Remember to live.
We humans get fixated staring at our dusty, wilderness-weary feet when from just beyond the torn skies and threatening clouds come doves and rainbows.
So, this Lent, look up. Immediately. Don’t hesitate. Mark beckons us to a radical Lenten faith — to trust in rainbows even when covered with ash. Remember your life. Remember your neighbor’s life. Remember we are alive. Here. Now. Memento vitae.
After every wilderness comes life. God promised.
A smile graced my face, and a surge of hope filled my heart.
“Thank you, God,” I said in silence as I walked back toward the parking lot. I backed out of the space and made a quick stop at the gas station before coming home.
I hope you enjoyed the stroll and the photographs I shared with you! I had anticipated a denser fog, which might have added more drama to the images. However, this was what materialized. The lesson here is to always work with what is there.
Let’s meet each other in the comment section below and share with me what resonates with you.
See you all next Sunday!
Nothing better than channeling your inner Sugimoto! Some wonderful photos and musings.
Beautiful words and pictures, Stella, as always. Such a reflective, contemplative post - I loved it. 😊