I’ve got a lot more photos from my June road trip to share with you, including these from my time spent at Little Whale Cove. I recently realized, or perhaps remembered again, how seeing the world through the camera lens is a bit like a time machine. It allows me to slow time enough to capture a single moment. It’s magic.
I hope you enjoy these photos. As always, let me know if you have a favorite.
I took these photos at a private cove near my dad’s house in Oregon last month. While I walked around with my camera, my daughter sat in the sand sifting it for agate. It wasn’t the trip I wanted. My dad was sick, ultimately needing to be transported by ambulance to the hospital. My daughter was about to turn 18, and things between us felt different. Everything felt…off.
As I edited these photos today, I felt all of it again. My dad is okay now, but he uses a walker, and the time for us to have the relationship I’ve always wanted is slipping away. My daughter and I are good. We’ve grown in new ways, but I worry about her all the time. I don’t know how to change things. I don’t know how to be right now.
Hard conversations are sitting inside me, and last night I dreamed they suffocated me, and I woke gasping for air. I couldn’t get back to sleep, anxiety eating at me with sharp teeth.
So, I’m going to take a minute and return to the peacefulness of this beautiful place. Will you join me? Let’s look at how light moves through things, reflecting and illuminating. Tell me, do any of these photos speak to you?
She closed her eyes. She drew her shoulders back. She took a slow and steady breath.
There was tension in the air. A weight. A wait. There was no wind. She did not speak. The world grew and stretched tight.-Patrick Rothfuss, The Slow Regard of Silent Things
There’s nothing quite like standing on the beach at sunset and watching the sky and water play together with a dance of reflection and light. On our recent trip to Oregon my daughter and I sat apart from each other in complete silence watching the sun slowly descend into a bank of clouds. It was slow and sudden—a beautiful, fleeting moment of peace.
Today’s photo selections are of the place my father lives in Oregon called Little Whale Cove. It’s a hidden and magical gem we feel incredibly grateful to visit each summer. I hope you enjoy them!
Stay tuned: Next week I’ll be sharing photos of our visit to the West Coast Game Park Safari.
Bridgette Tales 