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| (Photo: Lisa Erin Brown) |
I haven't posted to my blog in about a week. My ongoing issues with screwed up sleep patterns haven't gone away, so most of my fully awake time...well, as close as I've been able to get to being "fully awake"...has been at night. Not a time of day conducive to going on one of my therapeutic photography walks. By the time the Sun starts to make an appearance, I am usually diving into a state of lethargy that kills any motivation I might have had hours prior.
For the past week I have been planning trips to 'my' beach over on Tybee Island for some photo snapping and a dose of Zen. It is usually vacant on week days, and since it has still been pleasant during the day (we've been getting temperatures in the upper 60's to low 70's lately), I have been promising myself that I would pay a visit to the North Beach by the Tybee Lighthouse. (The red circle at the North end of the above map is the area where what I call "My Beach" is.) I haven't heard of any 'official' name for the North beach other than "North beach". At the edge of the large gravel parking lot on the land side of the sand dunes that skirt the inner side of the beach, there are signs posted about the beach being a nesting place for Sea Turtles. I haven't encountered the turtles as of yet, but I hope to some day. That would be an incredible thing to experience. Anyway, I named the beach myself (other than the aforementioned "My Beach"), and call it Turtle Beach. After a week of planned and fizzled trips to Turtle beach, I finally made it over there yesterday (Friday) morning.
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| (Photo: Lisa Erin Brown) |
Just shy of 7:00 AM, I hopped in the car, swung past Mickey D's for a coffee, and headed over what I like to call the 'land bridge' to Tybee. The sky was still pretty dull and dim, as the Sun hadn't started to make it's appearance yet. To either side of the road over, the low lying marsh grasses were shrouded with thick fog that hugged the ground. The brown grasses were completely hidden from view beneath the ethereal blanket of white. There weren't many cars on the road at all. The gate to Fort Pulaski came up on the left, and across the small stretch of water I could see the fog filled remains of the structure. I would have loved to check the fort out under these conditions, but it obviously wasn't open for visitors.
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| (Photo: Lisa Erin Brown) |
I reached the island, and turned off the main drag towards the lighthouse. Tybee is not a big island at all. I don't know its exact measurements, but I would say in length (north to south) it's probably around 2 1/2 miles long. Width wise I would say about 3/4 of a mile. There are quite a few houses on it, but they are very small at the base. To add more room, owners have built the structures up since building out isn't really an option. Most of the little houses are really quaint. It goes without saying that the business district is small, many of the privately owned businesses catering to the tourist trade. They hold annual events on Tybee, none of which I have attended. On an average Summer day the traffic is pretty thick, but a special event creates bumper to bumper madness. Tybee fills up quickly on days like that.
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| (Photo: Lisa Erin Brown) |
I have the luxury of living by the Bull River Bridge which connects Savannah to the "land bridge" over to Tybee. It is the only way to get on or off of the island. If I feel like a trip to the island, I can look at the traffic level and that will help me decide whether it's worth it. Yesterday morning, I knew it would be quiet on the roads and on the island...no events, so no crowds of people.
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| (Photo: Lisa Erin Brown) |
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| (Photo: Lisa Erin Brown) |
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| (Photo: Lisa Erin Brown) |
When I pulled into the long gravel parking lot, there was only one vehicle (a non-descript and weathered white van) parked by the central wooden foot bridge over to the beach. It took me a minute to find one of the 'pay parking' machines that was in working order. I could see that the sky beyond the dunes was lighting up some, an almost neon looking orange brilliance cutting horizontal veins across the grey. Having slipped my change in the meter, placed the little card it spit out on my dashboard, and grabbed my Batman bag containing my necessities, I started snapping shots of the brightening dawn as I mounted the walkway.
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| (Photo: Lisa Erin Brown) |
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| (Photo: Lisa Erin Brown) |
A dread-locked gentleman who I can only assume was the vans' owner, was the only other life on the beach other than a huge colony of Seagulls foraging for munchies in the sand near the breakwater. The man was standing by one of the wooden swings near the mouth of the sandy pathway I was exiting, and as I got closer I could see the massive lens protruding from his camera. It appeared that he was there to snap pictures of the dawn, too. Thankfully, he was wrapping things up just as I got there. One person wouldn't have harshed my mellow that much, but I had been looking forward to flying solo. As he headed towards the parking lot, I continued snapping pictures of the brilliant orange orb.
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| (Photo: Lisa Erin Brown) |
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| (Photo: Lisa Erin Brown) |
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| (Photo: Lisa Erin Brown) |
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| (Photo: Lisa Erin Brown) |
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| (Photo: Lisa Erin Brown) |
The temperature was right around 50 degrees, so my denim jacket was a welcome companion. I proceeded to walk to the waters' edge, and to take in my surroundings. The loose sand of the beach away from the water was covered in foot altered mounds that looked like hundreds of tiny sand dunes. The shadows cast around them by the rising sun added to the image. The top of the sand was also peppered by bits of shell and the occasional fleck of beach glass. The Sun caused them to glint like tiny diamonds. I tried to capture the sparkling effect in a picture, but couldn't. Near the path back to the parking lot was a mound of beach chairs, secured together until busier times.
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| (Photo: Lisa Erin Brown) |
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| (Photo: Lisa Erin Brown) |
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| (Photo: Lisa Erin Brown) |
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| (Photo: Lisa Erin Brown) |
From the lacy layers of foam created by the tides washing up on the smooth tan of the shore, to the barnacle and fungus encrusted rocks of the breakwater, "Turtle Beach" delivered exactly what I went there for. Some time to unwind and get out of my own head. To listen to the sounds of the water and waves...to meditate through exercising my creativity. Spending time in a natural setting, and feeling the cycles of time and tide moving around me.
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| (Photo: Lisa Erin Brown) |
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| (Photo: Lisa Erin Brown) |
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| (Photo: Lisa Erin Brown) |
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| (Photo: Lisa Erin Brown) |
After spending a little over an hour on the beach, I decided to drive around Tybee a bit before heading back. I made my way to the southern end of the island, where I found another walkway to the beach. I still had some time on my parking pass from before, so I pulled over and hopped out for some more photos.
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| (Photo: Lisa Erin Brown) |
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| (Photo: Lisa Erin Brown) |
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| (Photo: Lisa Erin Brown) |
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| (Photo: Lisa Erin Brown) |
Like the other beach, it was devoid of people. There seemed to be quite a bit more plant life closer to the water. From my vantage point on the wooden foot bridge, I could tell that this most likely wasn't a swimmers beach. The water was obviously filled with chaotic currents that buffeted against one another. It was quite obvious that the stretch of water out there held a lot of rough and treacherous rip currents. However, the churning water did look quite beautiful sparkling in the suns rays.
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| (Photo: Lisa Erin Brown) |
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| (Photo: Lisa Erin Brown) |
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| (Photo: Lisa Erin Brown) |
When I got home I felt so relaxed. So calm. I am looking forward to my next photo taking journey. It will definitely be sooner than later.
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