DARIN HAYTON

Tag: Sand

  • Series of Images

    Series of Images

    As I make more books and things (collections of postcards are in the works), I increasingly think of photos in series. I don’t deny the power of a single, amazing photograph, but there is a value in seeing photographs as part of a collection of related images. I have long appreciated the powerful work of Bernd and Hilla Becher. Series can be as short as a pair of photos, a diptych, or much longer series, such as 52/4.

    From a recent trip to the Great Sand Dunes I have a number of nice, single photos as well as a number of photos that work well as short series. The images are fine on their own, but work really well as a triptych.

    Landscape #230820. A triptych of color photos of sand and shadow.
    Landscape #230820.

  • Looking at the sand

    Looking at the sand

    On the beach that morning a couple walked through the water, a group of young people splayed out across the blankets where they had spent the night, and a handful of fishermen were baiting hooks and casting. The sun would come up in about 10 minutes. I scanned the horizon for the beautiful morning scene to capture with my camera. Soon that bright orange ball of fire would float slowing higher in the sky casting its warm light across the sea foam and the glistening sand. Sand.

    A photo of diamond patterns in the sand along the New Jersey coast.
    #210613.1

    In the sand were the most amazing patterns that reminded me of herringbone cloth and patterned fabrics from the early 20th century.

    A photo of diamond patterns in the sand along the New Jersey coast.
    #210613.2

    For the next hour or so I wandered the beach just looking for patterns in the sand. Triangles and diamonds played out across the wet sand. No doubt somebody could tell me how these patters are formed, but I don’t need to know. Just watching them shift and change in subtle ways was enough for me.

    A photo of diamond patterns slanting up to the left in the sand along the New Jersey coast.
    #210613.3

    I lost myself that morning in those patterns. The sunrise was, I am sure, lovely. The national bird sanctuary? No doubt filled with birds. At some point the young people picked up their stuff and headed home, as did the fishermen with tales of the big one that got away. I left with images, photographic and mental, of the sand.