The way the vista splits into blocks of color as one gazes into the distance. The textures of sand, boardwalk, and grass. The rhythms of moon, sun, and tides, and the way they intersect. The interplay of water and light. The exquisite, shifting color of the very air. These are the things I think about when I photograph Fire Island.
When I return to Fire Island after a year or more away, there quickly comes a moment of recognition, a sense of both peace and exhilaration. Those of us who love the island return again and again, I think, in part because we crave the emotional response evoked by the vast scale of sky and ocean.
My images celebrate this refuge where I and many like me go to be braced or soothed, depending on our needs at the moment. Implicitly, I hope, they speak to the revitalizing power of the connection between spirt and place and to the importance of preserving–and of seeking out and savoring–our wild places.