The morning air is still and cool and it's quiet, not a sound but the distant caw, caw of a lonely sea bird. I have a few minutes before sunrise so I try to position myself along the pier so that I can capture the best photograph.
The tide is low, and the smell of dried marsh grass is pungent, strong and I think there must be rotting fish somewhere along the craggy rocks left bare until the tide rises renewing the marsh once again. I am beginning to make out the clouds above me as they fan out like cotton fingers reaching for the distant horizon. The sky is beginning to lighten, its blackness becoming a soft blue canvas ready for the brush strokes that only Mother Nature can make, her brush touching here - now there - as the sun's light touches the sky and this masterpiece of a new day is complete once again.
The mirrored glass of the water just in front of the pier is beginning to ripple, as the wind freshens ever so slightly. The azure clouds above are becoming a technicolor mosaic of blue gray, whites and reflected yellows. I adjust the cameras settings in order to expose for the shadows and highlights which is no easy task. Mother Nature does not like to be copied and capturing the true beauty of this morning’s sunrise alludes me.
And so, I step back and just watch as the sun rises over the horizon bringing with it a new day. Slowly the world around me awakens. A foghorn from a distant ship blares in the distance. A pelican glides along the surface of the bay searching for breakfast. I hear the gravel crunching under foot as a jogger runs by me seemingly unaware of the start of a new day, focused instead on the miles ahead. Soon, too soon, the sky brightens, and the new light of day chases the clouds away.
History is not lost on me in this special place along the river, Ft. Sumter only a few hundred yards from where I stand, silent now, just a small out-cropping of rock and sand. A flag flies over the fort commemorating the significance of the battles fought across this water so long ago. And I wonder if the silence and beauty of the sunrise was enjoyed by those brave souls who fought here so long ago in the moments before Mother Nature’s canvas was shattered and torn by canon fire and blaze of musket bore?
One thing is certain. Charleston is a special place for many reasons. The history and events that were played out here, as sad and glorious as they were, serve to give this place its meaning and charm, and as history reminds us there will always be a new day. I snap one last photograph and walk away.
I’ve been thinking. My photos of Charleston or any place that we visit for that matter, are typically snapshots of where we go but don’t give the full picture of the town or city. I didn’t set out to document Charleston, but just took photos while we walked around. To really do Charleston justice, would take a greater investment in time and effort than I was able to give it on this trip.
These are just pictures within the City, the wonderful architecture, gardens and facades - things that appealed to me, but which do for me anyway, evoke “Charleston”. The photographs were all taken with my Leica M-10 and a 21mm and 35mm lens primarily. There are a few taken with a 50mm and maybe one or two taken with my 90mm. That’s really not important because regardless of what equipment you use, it’s how, and with what, you fill the frame with that counts. In the end it’s the story you tell with your photography that is important. I hope I’ve left you with a bit of Charleston that otherwise you might not have experienced.