Mission Beach is built on a sandbar between the Pacific Ocean and Mission Bay, part of the city of San Diego. Its main street is really the vast beach itself, -- two miles of oceanfront, lined by a board walk and beach houses. The community, started by a developer in the 1920s, has now become the most densely developed residential community in the city. Close by is SeaWorld on Mission Bay and the historic Belmont amusement park, making the area a focal point of San Diego tourism. Yet moments of absolute silence on Mission Beach are always present early in the morning. This man looks into infinity as he stands inches from the sea and stretches a salute to the dawn.

I use scale incongruity to stress the relative privacy available to sun bathers on Mission Beach, even on a late afternoon of a summer day. I used a normal 50mm focal length here so as not to distort the spatial relationship between man and beach. The strip of houses lining the famous beach can be seen at left.

Volleyball courts line this beach – there is always a series of games unfolding. I stress the difficult traction by emphasizing the texture of the sand, and caught the game’s tension by freezing poised figures watching a ball suspended above them at the peak of its flight. The evening light brings out the red border of the net that defines the limits of the game itself.

The beauty of beaches is the variety of activity they offer. In this single image, a surfer drifts off shore, a man seems lost in his thoughts, two women read while taking the sun, and the man relaxing in the middle of it seems to be taking it all in.

We pass from the pleasures of the sea and the sand to streets of the town itself – Mission Boulevard runs the length of the community, and lends the neighborhood its character as well as catering to shopping, dining, and entertainment needs. I caught these visitors as they walked the boulevard, passing before a mural of paradise that seems to have been carved out the side of a surfing store, which in turn has replaced a meat store. I layered the image with a yellow recreational vehicle in the left foreground, placed the men in the middle ground, and used the buildings as background.

The pace of a beach town is generally languid. Few seem to be in a hurry here. Time does not seem to matter as much. This image speaks of such a relaxed pace.

The energy of its youthful visitors gives Mission Beach much of its flavor. On weekends, the town is crowded with college students. I layer this image with youth, both real and idealized.

Probably a lingering reminder of the post 9/11 surge of patriotic feeling, this flag seems incongruously out of place in its thatched surroundings. The textures of the thatch echo the thrust of the flag’s stripes.

Just as the car in the previous image, this patio chair is protected from the effects of the salty air by a shroud, which appears surreal amidst its flowery surroundings.

I had not even left the living room of our rented beach house when the first picture opportunity of the day revealed itself. The morning light defined the stepped edge of the living room's mantle, as well a large glass jar filled with seashells. The morning light flowing through the jar encouraged me to make a number of images, using my spot-metering mode on the brightest of the shells. All else fall into shadow. The shells were once essential parts of living sea creatures. Now they have become someone’s collectables, decor made out of nature’s work.

I backlight this image, silhouetting a small group of beachgoers against the reflection of the sun on the Pacific Ocean. The sun, meanwhile, hangs above the cloudbank, which acts as filter. It faintly feathers the rays of the sun through the scene. The image becomes a study in contrast in both light and scale.

People seem to carry umbrellas to protect themselves from the rays of the sun in many parts of the world, but it is a custom not often seen in the United States, particularly on beaches. This woman is carrying this umbrella over her head as she runs along the edge of the tide very late in the day under a clear blue sky. The sun was already plunging towards the sea, turning the incoming waves and the piles of the seaweed on the sand a dazzling gold. She ran past me, incongruously determined to hold the umbrella over her head until the sun vanished below the horizon.

The angle of the lead pelican, plunging into the Pacific in search of a fish dinner, echoes the diagonal thrust of the “Gods Rays” clouds in the background. I was able to freeze the tip of its beak just before it overlaps the horizon, to give the image much tension. I made dozens of images of silhouetted diving pelicans off Mission Beach just before sunset each evening during our two week visit, but this one best melded my choices in light, time, and space together to express the essence of the concept.

The image of a man standing in the surf with a fishing pole is not, in itself, an expressive photograph. Most of the time, it would be simply a description of an activity. Yet at seven o’clock on a late summer evening, the water in which he stands reflects the sunset and turns the sea into pool of golden textures. The mood and atmosphere here make it an expressive scene. We can only wonder what he may be seeing, as he casts for fish.

Surfing is more than a sport. It is a culture, and that culture helps shape the character of Mission Beach, as well as many other places along the California, Hawaii, and Florida coastlines. The culture began early in the 20th century, spread quickly during the 1950s and 1960s, and continues to evolve. It affected fashion, music, literature, films, language, and more. Surfers, who come from many walks of life, are bound by the hunt for great waves, the desire for the ultimate ride, and life in and around the ocean. Even some of the utility boxes along the town’s Mission Boulevard are painted to reflect the consuming interest of many who live or visit here. While this area is not particularly noted for its huge waves, it still draws people who enjoy having fun on a board in the ocean.

I found these surfers preparing their boards while still on the Mission Beach Boardwalk. There are many kinds of surfboards, depending upon the skill set and intentions of the surfer and the nature of the waves. I liked the triangular composition of this image – the woman’s hands flutter inches from the board she is has just handed off to the man.

As the day drew to a close, I found this pair of surfers entering the water. The image is about both friendship and sport. One sends the other on his way into the golden waves with a gracious parting gesture. They seem to already feel the energy of the sport.

I layer this view of the Crystal Pier by placing a pair of onlookers in the foreground, a lone surfer in the middle ground, and the end of the pier in the near background. In the far background, an orange sky appears below a hovering cloudbank. The people in this image vary in size as well. The people standing in the foreground are many times larger than the surfer, while the surfer is far larger than the tiny forms of the tourists and fishermen standing on the pier. This difference in sizing provides a sense of perspective to the image.

Surfing photography is a specialized branch of sports photography. The most evocative surfing images combine the action of both the waves and the surfer. The waves on this beach are comparatively small – in some surfing images I’ve seen, the wave can dwarf the surfer. Instead of such incongruous scale relationships, I must instead use the body language of the surfer to express the story here. In this case, his gesture repeats the peak of the wave he rides. It is a study in grace, style, and skill.

In this image, I was able to express a particular relationship between man and the ocean that defines this nature of this place. It is also an image that can define the relationship of mankind itself to the natural world. The sun, already partially below the horizon, becomes an elliptical shape, banded in vivid colors. The sky and ocean turn dark, and a darker yet silhouette of a surfer gently rides his board towards shore on the calm evening swells. It spoke to me of closure, the end of a day, a final run on the surf, as well as the final image in my photographic story of this place. We are so small, and the universe itself so large.