The prodigal son returns. Or the fool finds his roots. Or whichever yarn you’d like to spin this is where it all began. Just north of two years back I embarked on what would become my photographic journey—right here at this very spot in Holgate, New Jersey. Only I didn’t know it at the time. That one innocent photowalk down a section of the eastern shore of the Edwin B. Forsythe Wildlife Refuge on one a seasonably warm New Year’s Day; that one innocuous macro shell and here’d I be two years and some forty thousand picture later blogging about it on my own photography website. Sometimes life is strange.
As I made my way around the refuge today it dawned on me just how much territory on this isthmus there is to explore despite the fact that access on the bayside western shore is restricted to protect the wildlife. I stopped for a second to chat with a local, an elderly gentleman who noted the southern tip of the refuge made its way three miles to the south where a micro sized Atlantic City looms. For another day, I quipped. Short on daylight, and therefore time, I made my way back to the jetty rock. Jetty rock that had been laid waste by years of violent storms—Sandy of course topping the list.
It was here that I made my stand. Here that I made my shot for this story. Here I shall return for future sunsets as this locale offers both potential and an important link to the past.