Drawn by the Tide

By the time I arrived at Hanapepe Pier, the day had already been long. We had spent hours moving across the island, and fatigue had begun to settle in. As the sun lowered, the sky shifted. Soft colour gathered in the clouds, and with it came a renewed sense of energy. The landscape offered a quiet invitation to stay, and energy slowly returned.

Growing up on the east coast of Australia, beach scenes have always felt familiar. I once wondered whether travelling overseas would reveal anything new along the shoreline. Hawaii, and Kauai in particular, challenged that assumption. Here, the sun set directly into the ocean, a reversal of what I knew at home. Familiar forms, shaped now by unfamiliar light.

As waves receded across the sand, fine patterns emerged at my feet. Their lines curved gently toward the pier, guiding the eye back through the frame and into the distance. The structure stretched outward into the sea, steady and unhurried, meeting the soft movement of water and sky.

I lingered, watching the meeting of stillness and motion. The colours deepened. The fatigue of the day receded. In its place came a quiet sense of continuity, land and ocean responding to one another as the light faded.

Seen through Vertique, the composition rises from tide lines in the sand to open water and sky. The tide becomes a guide rather than a boundary. It is a reflection on familiarity and renewal, and on how nature, given time, restores both attention and strength.