Old Strykerville, NY Cemetery
I'm stumbling my way down a sandy, wet path through dark scrub forest and marshes in rural South Carolina. It's 5:00 a.m., and I'm the only human out at this ungodly hour. My headlamp just died, so avoiding the deep puddles in the path from last night's rain isn’t exactly easy. A loud squawk causes me to jump - apparently an owl startled by my presence. My destination: an empty graveyard.
Most people avoid graveyards like the plague, perhaps because few like to be reminded of their own mortality. For me, though, graveyards are inspiring places of beauty, peace, and contemplation. But not just any graveyard. The ones I like best are those without human interference, where the only markers are the hulking remnants of dead trees. I'm referring to the "boneyard beaches" that dot the southern Atlantic coast, where I'm headed at the tip of Hunting Island State Park - one of the most picturesque examples anywhere in the United States.
Found along eroding shorelines, blackened, bare stumps and limbs of oaks, pines, and palms litter the beach in great piles, forming haunting silhouettes. These bewitching boneyards are beautiful in their own right, especially at sunrise or sunset, when the sky is a golden color and the beaches are otherwise empty.
Blackened piles of oaks, pines, and palms litter Hunting Island boneyard beach
Once I reach the beach, I cautiously pick my way through the massive dead trees that litter the shoreline, to scout out favorable vantage points; I want to position myself to capture the coming sunrise behind the silhouettes of trees. There are so many beautiful spots along the beach, it's hard to pick just a few.
Boneyard beach sunrise, Hunting Island State Park
As the horizon begins to brighten, I start firing away, periodically checking my results and adjusting my settings. "God rays" appear through the clouds as the sun rises above the horizon. Warm water from the incoming tide gradually begins to cover my feet and tripod, and I know that my time here is limited. Within an hour, it's all over; the sun is fully up, and long, harsh shadows begin forming behind the relics on the beach.
Subtle ridges in the sand lead to a former live oak
Satisfied with my early photo session, I relocate above the water line and sit down just to enjoy the tranquility of the place, and morning. The air is cool, and there's a gentle breeze, which thankfully helps keep the bugs away. Gulls glide overhead and occasionally dive to the water in search of breakfast, and Sanderlings do their nervous dance in the lapping waves. It's indescribably beautiful, and I feel an enormous sense of peace and gratitude in my little graveyard by the sea.
For more of my photos from the South Carolina Lowcountry, please click here.