Getting my feet wet

This all wound up better than expected.

First I was hemming and hawing about whether to get out there and shoot; the setup was meh worthy at best, its lone saving grace a distinct color cast from scheduled controlled burns in the area. I packed my car. I looked up one last time. I unpacked my car. In the end it was packed again.

Unsure where to go I wound up on 13th street in Ship Bottom, New Jersey. With a quick glance south I saw there was a small batch of exposed jetty rock about five blocks down. I dashed back to my car, strapped on my gear and began my walk against fading light.

I began photographing. Making what I would minutes later find out to be a hack-job move of not making sure my focus was dialed in. Shots wasted. Light wasted.

Annoyed I ditched the tripod and decided I would race in against the receding waves in an attempt to get low angle close ups of the jetty rock. In my desire to get a well composed, properly metered photograph I hung too long and took water up to my shins. Cold water. Most importantly, all equipment was safe.

At this point I’m just thinking this isn’t my day. To rub salt in the wounds, I look west over the berms and ocean front homes to notice their silhouette emblazoned by a fiery sunset. Opportunity lost. But at least I got wet, right?

As really nothing more than a I’m gonna hunch over and dangle my camera an inch off the sand while approaching surf comes and goes around me and hope for the best shot, I got my picture above. And honestly, I’m damn pleased I struggled out there today.