B&W   COLOR   ARCHIVE

Carol and I have visited the Olympic National Park in Washington State several times over the last three decades. It's a remarkable destination highlighted by one notable gem. A masterful seascape aptly named Ruby Beach. The place is best experienced during the low tides, preferably a minus tide. During both full and new moons, tides hit their peaks and the more extreme minus tides (around -2 ft. this visit) occur infrequently so timing is everything. During these tide rewinds on this flat-as-a-pancake beach, you can seemingly walk towards the ocean forever. Sea stacks, rock monoliths and fully-stocked tide pools are completely exposed and totally accessible. The 1/8" slick of water that covers the beach opens up a myriad of reflections while clear skies, hazy atmosphere to near zero-visibility fog can flip on a dime. Simply put, a lighting smorgasbord for the camera.

During our travels I've photographed a beach or two along the western edge of North America. Nothing near all of them of course, but a solid sampling from Alaska to the Mexican border. And although I try to use absolutes within conversation in very small doses, here I have no problem declaring Ruby Beach perhaps the most dramatic and photogenic beach of the bunch.

Beyond the beach, driving up to, over, under, around and then back from the Northern coast during the Covid era, we saw plenty evidence of the hit many of the small fishing ports and tourism-based coastal towns have taken. An industry born from the sea and now hustling to survive economically. If that's not enough, commercial fishing also faces ongoing harvest droughts — a crisis of diminishing returns from the ocean itself.

Photography wise, the aging corrugated-metal processing plants, endless piles of dry-docked vessels, the decaying brick and wooden structures and the multitude of commercial fishing accessories like metal and nylon fish bins, ropes, traps and nets continue to attract me. Over time, these places and things take on interesting, highly visual vintage patinas. They strike me as abstraction subjects rather than simply old, discarded and grungy artifacts. This was a prolific shooting trip and for purposes to post a well-rounded travelogue album I'm not showing much of what I was really after. Minimalistic patterns (without much of a subject) that I use to produce digital compositions that become inspiration and guides for later abstract-based paintings.