The Shot: Riverfront Bench

As I've traveled through northeastern North Carolina and along the coast, I've discovered a surprising gem in Elizabeth City.

Pasquotank River

I first came here in 2009, spending two nights on business that afforded me a little time to explore the city in the late afternoon and evening.  Driving into town from Currituck County, I was amazed at the deep blue water of the sound and Pasquotank river, such a drastic change from the muddy waters of the Mississippi I'd grown accustomed to in eastern Iowa.

The settlement that would become Elizabeth City began as a trading post, benefiting from its location at the mouth of the Pasquotank River and its proximity to the Dismal Swamp Canal, along with later developments of various railroads and shipyards that took advantage of its geography.  Known as the Harbor of Hospitality, Elizabeth City is a popular stop along the Intracoastal Waterway, where boaters may dock free of charge for up to 48 hours in the communal slips along the downtown waterfront.

Along with surprisingly good restaurants and the Museum of the Albemarle, the riverfront is home to a quiet park and dock.  Residents set up their fishing lines or come to eat their lunch, while I simply sat and enjoyed the sun on a fall day.  The benches were artfully carved, with wrought iron arms.  The contrast of the iron with the wood, surrounded by the brilliant blue of the water and the sky was too much to pass up:

Riverfront bench

The Concepts: Connections

An earlier post about rethinking the mundane had me musing on the idea of corners: bringing things together, serving as a physical connection between different directions.  That spawned a thought process on the idea of connections: how do you capture the connection between two people?

Retiro Park; Madrid, Spain

While portraiture or posed shots tend to make for nice holiday cards and picture frames, those natural shots captured in the moment have always held more power for me. The fluidity of the relationship between the subjects is somehow frozen, almost stolen away to live eternally outside that particular moment.

However, even the standard portrait shoot can provide a chance for those quiet moments.  While collecting headshots for a friend's upcoming novel, her American Eskimo kept a close eye on us.  Getting people to hold still long enough to catch a shot is difficult enough; doing so with an animal whose capacity for reasoning and negotiation is vastly different from ours is an entirely different story.  With plenty of credit to every photographer's best friend - luck - the casual moments were more true to life than any pose could have been:  

Nando and Ashley; Pittsboro, NC

Another friend of mine recently shared his wedding album with me. While there were the requisite posed shots of the wedding party and family members, the more candid shots were by far the most powerful: the quietly contended smile of the bride as he kissed her cheek, the joy on friends' faces as they sent the happy couple off in a shower of sparklers.  Perhaps the most touching was a shot of him and his mother hugging - the pride in her face, the comfort in the way they hugged, and the sheer poetry of that quiet moment between mother and son that was utterly beautiful to witness.

Several years ago, my sister-in-law and I hatched a surprise for my brother's birthday, bringing family and friends from various corners of the country together at Wrigley Field.  The entire day was a cascade of small moments of happiness which strung themselves together into an arc of joy.  Their smiles, their expressions, the placement of her hand on his knee: this was - this forever is - them:

The Sites: Moscow

If Saint Petersburg started it, Moscow continued it.

The bustle of the capitol; the pace of life that is simultaneously quick and slow; the seasons that oscillate between extremes: this is a city of contrasts, history, and contradictions.

Neon glow over the Kremlin from the Hotel Rossiya's adjacent parking lot

Then, of course, there are the churches.

St. Basil's Cathedral; Red Square; Moscow, Russia

St. Basil's Cathedral; Red Square; Moscow, Russia

St. Basil's is perhaps Russia's most recognizable icon.  Depending on the lighting, its domes can look like ribbon candy or hellfire.  A friend once described it as his favorite thing to photograph, because "you can never take the same picture twice."  The lighting, the angles of the onion domes: everything is as it was built centuries ago, yet is never the same. 

Modernity and history collide inside the Kremlin and in the city that surrounds it -- concentric circles of growth and development that create a playground for the nouveau riche while at the same time serving as a Russian interpretation of Dante's inferno for the citizens toiling away to eek out a meager existence on their pensions and paychecks.  

Olympic Stadium

The Soviets tried to whitewash the imperial past by destroying its Orthodox architecture while at the same time erecting new monuments to their Communist supremacy.  Yet after the fall of the Soviet Union, the rebuilding began, both literally and figuratively.  

Bulgakov House Museum

In addition to the revolutionaries of the Empire, my other academic weakness is Mikhail Bulgakov's "The Master & Margarita."  Set in 1930s Moscow, Bulgakov incorporated the city into his work, arguably making it a character in and of itself.  The Arbat remains a bustling promenade, perhaps more modern, but still choked with the materialism that Woland and his retinue found so rampant in the fictional Muscovites.  The lindens still hang over Patriarch's Ponds; nearby, Bulgakov's apartment has been converted into museum.

Cathedral of Christ the Savior, flanked by luxury autos

Those who have spent time in both cities will often tell you that it is rather simple to discern which was the imperial capitol and which was the Soviet capitol: where Peterburg kept its colors and grandeur, Moscow maintains a gritty layer over itself, as if to wash away the grime would be to wash away the centuries of plight that weighs so heavily on each of its residents - the very nature of "the Russian soul" that embraces suffering as simply something to bear.

The Tips: Be Adventurous

More often than not, a great shot can be right in front of you: the flowers in your garden,  the cardinal at your feeder, the sun setting over your backyard.  There's something to be said for taking the time to see the simplicity of the every day through the lens of your camera - take a moment to step back and look at things with a fresh set of eyes.

Sometimes, though, letting your curiosity guide you pays off even more.

The Eno River flows north of the Raleigh-Durham-Chapel Hill metro area, eventually feeding into Falls Lake.  It is completely different in character from the Mississippi: its channel is smaller making its depth much more variable with the rain, while its banks are mostly preserved as part of a state park filled with trails, picnic areas, and the occasional campground.  

Several years ago, North Carolina was one of many southern states caught in the grip of a severe drought.  Local lakes were well below normal levels and area municipalities were implementing various restrictions and regulations to conserve what water was left.  I spent an afternoon exploring the Pleasant Green section of the Eno River State Park, where the river was really more of a creek due to the lack of volume in its flow.  Susceptible to flash flooding, the banks were carved by erosion, leaving tree roots perched precariously in midair.  I scurried my way upstream, following the water's edge, pausing to capture the miniature rapids that formed over the branches and rocks that littered the bottom of the now exposed channel.


Some way up the channel, I came across the outflow from a tributary creek.  I pondered whether to continue up the main path or to veer off towards this new discovery.  With apologies to Robert Frost, I took the path less traveled.  I scrambled over the rocks and picked my way around the tree branches, determined to see how far the stream receding into the woods.  My curiosity was soon rewarded:

Waterfall, Eno River at Pleasant Green

My last trip out to Kitty Hawk coincided with an October coastal storm.  The weather was far from ideal for swimming and sunbathing, with waves crashing upon the storm and a 40mph gale making the 55 degree weather feel even colder.  Even in these conditions, I was still more inclined to be outside than in my hotel room.  Since the pier in Kitty Hawk was reserved for a private party, I headed down NC12 towards Avalon Pier.  It was all but deserted, save for the woman minding the pier shop and her daughter's family that had come to visit before her shift was over.  I paid my $1 for access to the pier and walked out into the weather.

Kitty Hawk from Avalon Pier

Normally elbow-to-elbow with fishermen and pelicans, the eerily empty pier stretched out into the ocean, at the same time both beckoning me to go further out and warning me to stay closer to shore. I ventured out to the end of the pier, exposed to the wind, putting my faith in the fact that these piers are built to withstand most of what Mother Nature can throw at them.  


It's an eerie thing, being alone on a pier, over a hundred yards out over a churning ocean.  The sky hung heavy, like gray velvet, draping itself over the coastline with a damp chill.  


Whether it's clamoring up a river tributary or hanging onto the railing of a pier swaying in the wind, allow yourself to follow your curiosity.  More often than not, you'll be surprised by what you find.

[Disclaimer: Always be aware of your own safety when shooting, particularly in potentially severe weather.  No shot is worth life and/or limb.]