Coast

I've long loved and felt a connection with the ocean. I grew up about an hour away from the coast and the occasional summer day trip or vacation on the ocean brought forth a love for the sound of waves, the natural plants and species of the ocean, and when brave enough, (specifically with New England/Canadian beaches…) the excitement of swimming in the bitterly cold water.

In galleries, it's typically the seascapes I gravitate to, the mixture of blues and whites, a blend of sea and sky that's simple to become lost in. The coast influenced my time in Scotland, too. Although I never swam in the North Sea, the image of the still water in the mornings, or the white-tipped waves before a storm, the sounds of waves and seagulls in the evenings, along with the reflective and healing powers that an ocean horizon seems to possess only supported my interest and love.

A few days after visiting southern Vermont, I met up with Megan, a friend from high school and her sister Lyndsay. We headed east and arrived in Rye, New Hampshire. The day was less than ideal for anytime spent near a coast, with cold summer temperatures and heavy clouds for much of the day, but we walked the length of each beach and high piles of coastal rocks regardless, laughing and noticing the abundance of seagulls. When the sky turned blue in the early afternoon and the sun did appear, we fell asleep in the sun.

Rye, New Hampshire.