Treasures of the sea
I had planned another essay about a female photographer for this week’s newsletter, but I need a bit more time. Instead, I have written a little bit what feels more like a journal entry, but I hope you enjoy reading it anyway.
It had been raining all night. As I sat on the sofa, sipping my first cup of tea of the day, the rain still kept coming down. A quick look at the weather app told me it wasn’t going to stop anytime soon.
It was the last day of our week-long vacation in Denmark, and I still wanted to collect a few stones from the beach for a new book project I had been working on. Since Ben, my dog, needed to go for a walk anyway, it wasn’t really a question of whether to go out or not.
I knew that looking for interesting stones on the beach on a rainy day is a treacherous undertaking. Every single stone looks so pretty when wet, and they all seem to shout, “Pick me! Pick me!” as they present themselves in the most beautiful colors and textures: deep and rich yellows, reds, and blacks, with the most intricate patterns. I always struggle to pick just a few.
I watched as Ben turned around to look at me, then turned toward my husband, who was walking right by his side. Ben nudged my husband’s leg with his nose - a thing he does when he wants us to pay attention to something. It isn’t always clear what he is trying to tell us, but this time, he certainly wanted my husband to know that he has had enough and wants to go home.
I tried to catch up with them, but kept being distracted.
I am surprised my husband still enjoys walking with me on the beach. I am always on the lookout for things to photograph, trash that needs to be picked up, crashing waves that need to be admired, or pieces of driftwood, shiny pebbles, or colourful pieces of seaglass that want to be collected. Usually, it’s a mix of it all, which makes me even slower. I just can’t help myself - I feel irresistibly drawn to these things.
After catching up to them, I tell my husband to take Ben and go ahead, back to our vacation home. At this point, I didn’t mind the wind and the rain anymore. My eyes focused on the ground, I kept scanning the beach for a few more stones.
Since I wasn’t far away from where we were staying, I decided to select a few more stones to carry in my hands, since my pockets were full, and my jacket already pretty heavy from all the extra weight.
After a few more minutes, I called it a day and made my way back to the house and my family.
After arriving at the house, I emptied my hands and pockets and placed my found treasures in a dry spot on the terrace. I took off my hiking boots, stepped inside to get myself dry and warm, and forgot all about the stones.
When I returned to them a few hours later, my fear had turned into reality: my beautiful, glossy finds had turned into a dull, pale-looking pile of boring objects. They all seem to have lost their magic. One by one, I picked them up and turned them in my hands — they even had a different feel to them.
Maybe it is because I have been thinking a lot about the passage of time and the transience of things, and how these themes can be explored or expressed creatively, that I am seeing signs of it everywhere. But looking at these stones, which had changed in appearance so dramatically within just a few hours, felt like yet another reminder of the constant flux in which we find ourselves.
Similar thoughts came to me while photographing the dandelions a few weeks ago. They, too, showed me how fleeting and ever-changing life can be.
A while back, when I decided to include beach stones in my next “photobook” creation, I didn’t realize that they would have such meaning for me and the book. But I am getting a bit ahead of myself here. I will share more about this in a few weeks. For now, here is a photo of these stones as a little teaser.
That’s all from me this week.
Thank you so much for being here and for taking the time to read this week’s newsletter. It means a lot to me.
X,
Susanne
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Exquisite photos, and a lovely read! Yes the pebbles on my local beaches also come alive in salt water. My kids bring them home and they all just look grey. Have a lovely evening :-)
Those stones! Wow.