Waves are a tincy little bit like fire. A deeply conflicting statement if ever there was one, I know, but there are definite parallels in their mesmeric qualities. Hours of my beachside existence have been swallowed up by the seas; gazing over the barrels, following the crash of the breakers, the streams of surf rolling sand wards in endlessly shifting shades of blue. And then, of course, there’s the surfers, blessed with their wholly different brand of beautiful.
I confess, I’m a tad awestruck by these apex-ascending Adonises, if only because In pursuit of the same art I’ve achieved little more than a fancy flail followed by much unceremonious falling off.
In any case, it’s the combined cocktail of flames and waves which never fail to delight. The scorched sky at sundown against the wash of the ocean. Sprinkle on a silhouette and there you have it; a sumptuous sunset shot – but what’s you favoured flavour?
Boats are noteworthy… (La Paz, Baja California, Mexico)
A volcano spices things up a little… (Ankermi, Flores, Indonesia)
Trees can be pleasing… (Mirissa, Sri Lanka)
(Ankermi, Flores, Indonesia)
But no one does silhouettes quite like surfers.
(San Juan, North Luzon, Philippines)
(El Tunco, El Salvador)
and again…last night.