The Rocky Beach of I Don’t Know

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Photo #746: Rocky BeachLocation Taken: Gros Morne National Park, Newfoundland
Time Taken: July 2012

I’ve been having trouble deciding what to write here the last few days, and I finally figured out why. My life is simultaneously too interesting and not interesting enough.

There’s a lot happening, all right, but really, it’s personal stuff that I don’t feel right sharing with the internet in general. But it is leaving me worn out when I get to the end of the day and sit down to write my blog.

I also haven’t been reading any new non-fiction books lately, so I don’t have any fun science tidbits to share. I get most of my non-fiction from the library and, well, I haven’t gotten a local library card yet. (See: things happening and wearing me out). So I’m sitting here trying to figure out another unique thing to say with no new ideas coming in and little brainpower to work with. If this keeps up, I might have to start linking to my favorite sites on the internet or something terribly normal like that.

On the plus side, I still have plenty of pretty photos!

  

I Mourn for Lost Familiarity. ‘Tis a Sign of a Life Enjoyed.

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Photo #745: Familar BridgeLocation Taken: Savage, Maryland
Time Taken: April 2012

It’s a bit odd to think I may never see this bridge again. It’s quite close to where I used to live. Not so close that I saw it every day, mind, but well within walking distance. Anytime I wanted, I could just put on my shoes and walk across it.

That’s one of the saddest things of moving away from someplace you’ve lived for a long time. All the familiar places, the daily sights and routines, they’re gone. Replaced by new ones, yes, but still. There is a simple beauty in the familiar.

Perhaps one day I shall return to this town. See this bridge again. Or perhaps I have seen it for the last time. It is that the last one is now a strong possibility that makes me thoughtful, and perhaps a touch morose tonight.

  

Take away the Chiseled Stone, my Sons…

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Photo #744: Quarry CavesLocation Taken: Alton, Illinois.
Time Taken: November 2012

Along the northern shore of the Mississippi river, just north of St. Louis, tall limestone cliffs stand tall and pale. Some places they are worn down, the trees descending to the rivers. And others are carved by less natural forces.

This particular cave system, for instance.

It’s an old quarry. They chose not to remove the cliff itself, as similar modern operations do, but instead carved into it. Tall supporting columns rise from the floor to keep the ceiling in place, and they stand strong long after the last stone was pulled from the earth.

I wonder if those miners ever looked up and wondered if perhaps today was the day, when an errant move carved away too much and the delicate balance of the whole system was fatally upset. Someone with an overly active imagination probably wouldn’t do too well at that profession.

  

The Sweet Sight of the Setting Sun

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Photo #743: Setting Sea SunLocation Taken: Ruby Beach, Olympic National Park, Washington
Time Taken: June 2008

Such a classic scene, the sun setting over the ocean, with trees and rocks forming an intricate silhouette. Add in a couple kissing and you’d have a romance movie ending.

If you think about it, though, it’s not that common of a scene. Location-wise, that is. Time-wise, it happens many times a day, as the sun sets at various beaches. But statistically, not that much of the world is a beach. Ocean makes up 70% of the world, and land tends to be found in very large portions. It’s only where the two meet that you can find a beach where you can see the sun setting on the horizon line. Well, a sufficiently large lake can substitute for the ocean, but you get my meaning. There’s a very large percentage of the world that’s too wet or too dry for this scene.

It also has to be oriented correctly. The ocean (or lake) has to be on the west side of the scene. If it’s in the east, you get to see the sun rising at the ocean horizon instead. And while that’s pretty, it actually looks rather different. And if the ocean’s to the north or south, well, you’ve got the sun rising at the dividing line between land and sea. Now, there is a lot of wiggle room on how west it has to be, which is good because the sun actually sets in different spots during the course of a year. But still, west. Which means only, say, a fourth of the beaches out there.

So, a quarter of a very small percentage of the world, that’s really not much. So why is this scene so common in movies and the like? Well, some of it’s because we humans are drawn to the water’s edge. We build our towns and cities along these borders, seeking both the basic benefits of increased transportation options and the psychological appeal the ocean brings. So while only a small percentage of the world is a beach, we humans cluster around it.

And, of course, there’s the simplest reason for the commonality of movie scenes with a setting sun over the ocean. The place where the most influential movies have been made since nearly the start of the form is Hollywood. And guess what? Hollywood happens to be right near a large stretch of fantastic west-facing beach.