Not Just Beach Friends

Kure Beach in Duotone

Kure Beach Boardwalk © 2013 Bo Mackison

If we are to honor the gift of being human, we must embrace our true nature and teach our soul to fly. ~ Michael Teal

I spent the last week on the Carolina Coast, visiting a friend.

We first met when we began following each other’s blogs in 2008. We connected in a big way. We are both nature lovers and photographers. We are writers and naturalists. We are explorers and caretakers of the earth. We even use the same camera!

For years we conversed through blog comments, Facebook, emails, and telephone calls, and as the years passed we were amazed at the many similarities in our lives. We even have birth dates – not just birthdays – only two days apart!

And so…we embraced adventure and made plans to meet in North Carolina.

We walked the beach every day — sometimes in mist, usually in sunshine. We walked during sunrises, we walked mid-day, we walked as evening shimmered into twilight. Always the sound of the infinite waves wove its way through our conversations.

We traveled the coast, drawn to the same sites: out-of-the-way, funky shops and consignment stores; an amazing aquarium; historical parks; river walks along the Cape Fear; historic architectural districts.

We took ferries to coastal towns that were so much like sacred places, they spoke to our spirits. We wandered through art galleries and walked boardwalks through salt marshes and maritime forests. We explored fishing piers, gardens, outsider art, and diners. We chatted with fishermen, a leatherback sea turtle specialist, artists and photographers, a shark tooth collector, and fellow oyster-shuckers.

It was a magical, mystical time of connection.

We laughed, shared stories, took a thousand photographs, inspired each other, and solved a few of the (smaller) problems of the world!

When I boarded the plane to return to Wisconsin, I waved so long to Debi, but we didn’t say goodbye. We’ve already made plans for Tucson in 2014!

Carolina Coast

Kure Beach Sunrise, November 8, 2013

Kure Beach Sunrise © 2013 Bo Mackison

“. . . I creep out into the Night or the Morning and see what majestic and what tender beauties daily wrap me in their bosom, how near to me is every transcendent secret of Nature’s love and religion. . .” ~Ralph Waldo Emerson

I am visiting the Carolina Coast.

I’m staying in a lovely place, only a block from the Atlantic Ocean. Yesterday, I awoke to a shifting sky, and slipped across the street as dawn was nearing. It was cold and dark.

I stood in silent awe as the waves crashed upon the sands and retreated, relentlessly, infinitely.

A thin line in the dark sky shone red, then orange, and then the clouds fringed with scarlet light. The sun slid above the cloud line; the sea shimmered in tremulous gold.

Ah, ocean, I stand and watch, grounded in the shifting sands.

Exploring the Eastern Coast

Kure Beach

Kure Beach © 2013 Bo Mackison

“The desert and the ocean are realms of desolation on the surface.
The desert is a place of bones, where the innards are turned out, to desiccate into dust.

The ocean is a place of skin, rich outer membranes hiding thick juicy insides, laden with the soup of being.

Inside out and outside in. These are worlds of things that implode or explode, and the only catalyst that determines the direction of eco-movement is the balance of water.

Both worlds are deceptive, dangerous. Both, seething with hidden life.
The only veil that stands between perception of what is underneath the desolate surface is your courage.

Dare to breach the surface and sink.”

~ Vera Nazarian

Fog Across the Water

Redwood National Park -- From West Entrance to Pacific Coast

Crashing Waves ©2013 Bo Mackison

One day many years ago a man walked along and stood in the sound of the ocean on a cold sunless shore and said, “We need a voice to call across the water, to warn ships; I’ll make one. I’ll make a voice like all of time and all of the fog that ever was; I’ll make a voice that is like an empty bed beside you all night long, and like an empty house when you open the door, and like trees in autumn with no leaves. A sound like the birds flying south, crying, and a sound like November wind and the sea on the hard, cold shore. I’ll make a sound that’s so alone that no one can miss it, that whoever hears it will weep in their souls, and hearths will seem warmer, and being inside will seem better to all who hear it in the distant towns. I’ll make me a sound and an apparatus and they’ll call it a Fog Horn and whoever hears it will know the sadness of eternity and the briefness of life.
~ Ray Bradbury, The Fog Horn

This is the Pacific in fog.
It was cold when I walked the shore.
The waves were menacing, thrashing about.

A sign on the beach warned of sneaker waves
and the death toll tallied, victims unaware of the power of surf.
There was nothing to see in the beyond.

Fog settled low. I stood
watching the shore birds fight over specks of dinner.

The ranger at Redwoods shrugged when I said
I liked the feel of the fog, like a shroud.

“It’s always like this. Might be clearer than usual.
Never see sunlight on this beach.
Come back, the fog will be here.”

Tide was rolling in, and the motel was 50 miles south.
I decided there’d be tomorrow for more fog watching.

The next morning the skies were a startling deep blue.

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Bo Mackison is photographer, book-maker, collector of stories, naturalist, and owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC.  In August, I stood on the shore of the Pacific Ocean.

Boardwalk to the Beach

Beach Boardwalk

Beach Boardwalk © 2012 Bo Mackison

An early morning walk is a blessing for the whole day. ~ Henry David Thoreau

What a thrill to watch as the sun rises over Lake Michigan. And then another thrill – equally as amazing – when I turn away from the sun, and see the sunlight’s effect on everything within my view.

This photo was taken just north of Bailey’s Harbor, a small village in Door County, Wisconsin. The boardwalk is lined with snow fence for the summer as a beach grass re-introduction project is kept protected from the many feet of the beach visitors. The snow fence, a rather mobile fencing structure, always provides wonderful opportunities for photography. I am especially thrilled with the zig zag lines on the wobbly fence as the day’s sun lifts from the eastern horizon, and swathes the worn fence in deep golden tones.

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Bo Mackison is a photographer and the owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC. Bo is now home, and looking through the many photographs she took on her weekend trip to one of Wisconsin’s finest Vacationlands, Door County.