One of my fascinations with Salt Point is the constantly morphing landscape. From one season to the next, one year to the next, the sandstone doesn’t remain the same. The rain erodes, the sea erodes, the wind erodes, the forces of change are never ending. Recently, I’ve seen the location of another photograph of mine fall into the ocean and disappear, taking a rather large field of tafoni with it.
I expect that this image, taken near Fisk Mill Cove, will be around for some time. The day of this image was overcast, and I was hesitant to take photographs out of fear that the sandstone, sea, and sky would all be too monotone. I shouldn’t have been hesitant. I have a platinum/palladium print that has a marvelous glow to it, and wonderful, long, nuanced tones.
Although the landscape in this image seems stable, directly behind where I was standing, the sandstone is being pushed beneath the sea, and more and more is falling into the ocean. How much will disappear? I don’t know, but each time I visit the situation appears more and more perilous, and the angle grows steeper and steeper.
As the large stones roll into the sea they create new photo opportunities, even as standing along the edge becomes more precarious. I can’t wait to go back.