The January Pacific Swell

The past two weeks have been highlighted by large surf along our coast. I went out to capture some of the spectacular scenes.

Leffingwell Landing, Moonstone Beach

Sun filters through low clouds producing a bronze light.

Outside at the San Simeon Campground

We used to know it as "The Pink House"

Another outer reef breaks at 10 feet plus.

One quarter mile out, a 15 foot swell breaks on an un-named reef

Two surfers get the place to themselves

Even the sky looked like it had lines, San Simeon.

Out with the old, in with the new (year)

A new year brings reflection on the past year and the possibilities of the future. Since I haven't posted in some time I decided to share photographs spanning the past four weeks. In a black-and-white mood, here is a strange compilation of recent imagery.
Happy, Healthy New Year, 2014

Clicking on each image will make it larger.

December 10th, San Simeon.
Using a slow shutter speed and some camera movement I tried to describe the spinning sensation that happens during the "Holidays". 

December 16, Templeton Feed and Grain.
During a late afternoon visit to the chiropractor to help alleviated the effects of the aforementioned spinning sensation, I focused on the lines of the granary next door.

December 17, Morro Bay Harbor.
While waiting for the Space-X capsule to be lifted, a tropically calm morning of clouds and windless glass continued our dry month.

December 17, Morro Bay Power Plant.
The iconic stacks of the plant, already under deconstruction. Lots of speculation on what will happen to the 60 year old  facility.

December 24, Palm Desert.
An aluminum cross stands above the Coachella Valley at the top of a short hike on Christmas Eve.

December 30, Smuggler's Beach, San Simeon.
A minute before this the bull kelp was in a straight line pointing at the rocks. A minute later it was perpendicular.

January 1, Hearst Eucalyptus Forest.
Exorcising the demons of the past year, the dark forest seemed like an appropriate place to walk out of.

January 1, William Randolph Hearst State Beach.
For years I have seen these old Hearst Pier pilings get exposed by low tides, but never this many. I stood there long after the sunset and everyone had left watching them rise out of the surf.