I chase those fleeting moments on the coast when evening sun brings textures in sand and rock and water to life.
During the day I scout locations within running distance of my home that I think will look epic in evening light. I run the trails repeatedly during daylight, memorizing the paths so I can navigate back home in the dark. When a long trail run through the rainforest ends at sunset along a viewpoint I’ve been scouting for several days, and the scene is illuminated almost exactly as I envisioned, taking a photo seems an afterthought. Chasing the light is an end in itself.
I love photography. I also love not snapping pictures and simply looking. I spent my first six months on the Oregon Coast exploring, searching for hidden viewpoints, and watching the evening light shows along the shore without a camera in hand. At some point in the coming months, I’ll leave my camera stashed in my pack, and I’ll go back to exploring the coast solely for the intoxication of discovery. I’ll go back to trail running as a form of moving meditation, and back to chasing the light without trying to capture it.
For now, I’m pleased to share these photos, which are as close as I’ve come to seizing the awe and wonder that strike me when the last slant of light illuminates a landscape mythic and timeless, otherworldly and everlasting. This is the terrain where the physical world ends and the human imagination begins. On an Oregon beach glowing in the day’s last light, the sea swirls with mermaids and writhes with serpents, and Ents march down from the rain-washed hills.