The Coolness of Devotion
The smell of river water is never just water. It is the scent of wet silt, of deep, dark mud that has been stirred by oars, and the metallic tang of rain waiting to fall. I remember the feeling of cold water against my skin after a long, humid…
Storm Over Kona by Christopher Johnson
Honl's beach is a spot that I find myself shooting a lot, but never in the rain. The way the sunset was developing, with the deep blues and purples of the storm clouds, I just couldn't pass up the opportunity of the shot. Holding the umbrella…
The Weight of Ancient Breath
The smell of wet limestone always pulls me back to the feeling of a cold coin pressed against my palm. It is a heavy, mineral scent—the smell of time sitting still in the dark. I remember running my fingers over a crumbling wall, the grit…