When I think of the song by Sting, I imagine two lovers running through fields of wheat at sunset.
Built around the time of the French Revolution, this Fort is placed above where the old Culmer family homestead still exists.
Photo was taken at the top of Orange Hill and is dedicated to my late mother, Kendra.
Nothing in this photograph, except for the sky, exists anymore. It was raised to construct the new U.S. Embassy on Shirley street. It is dedicated to Alexandra, a girl from Ukraine.
Situated across the street from the Central Bank of The Bahamas, Norfolk House carries with it a lot of historical significance to downtown Nassau. At one point I believe it used to serve as a hotel but now it contains many entities including the authority that regulates the annual Junkanoo parade.
Sometimes this place serves as a venue for couples to take their wedding photos. It’s idyllic.
Sadly this ruin, probably dating back to the colonial era, was raised to create more parking space on Cumberland street. It was behind a large residence that may have served as a hotel, law firm or some other prominent use due to its location. In the foreground, there appears to be a well or cistern for water.
Along with Goombay Punch, this soda was one of my favorites in high school. Shot taken on the beach at Sandals Royal Bahamian.
Because I only left the house with a 35mm manual focus lens and couldn’t zoom out, I nearly fell off the western edge of the new addition to Arawak Cay trying to get the entire island in the frame. So many of my photographs come with stories of accidents barely avoided because of mild incompetence on my part.
I spend so much time meditating out here, it doesn’t matter how unruly the wind, the rain or the temperature. A place one can go to think is rare and priceless. Sometimes its a physical place, and for a lucky few, it’s a place in the mind.
These tasty fruits grew on our property, and I can still taste them whenever I look at this photo.
The Sky and ocean are the same color at the entrance to Nassau Harbor. An outbound tour boat crosses the channel, overseen by local fauna.
Underneath a striking herringbone pattern of cirrocumulus clouds, a gull watches passing cars near the ocean. This pattern is also called “mackerel sky”.
A walk through The Cloisters on Paradise Island brings to mind an earlier time where Roman Senators wore Togas and people drank out of goblets and were fed individual grapes by handmaidens. Perhaps that time never existed.
Hahnemühle Daguerre Canvas. 14″ x 25″inches (or 17″ x 25″ inches with a title).
The people that see this photo inevitably tell me it inspired them. I can’t honestly say it was my intention. People take away different messages from the iconography. If you have time, can you tell me what you take away from this? Drop me a line anytime, I would love to hear from you.
Hahnemühle Daguerre Canvas. 14″ x 25″inches (or 17″ x 25″ inches with a title).
Before the development of The Pointe and Margaritaville, this was the old view from Junkanoo Beach of the western end of the Paradise Island lighthouse. On my way back from taking photos of horse-drawn carriages on Shirley Street, I stopped to rest my legs, set up a tripod and took this shot.
Hahnemühle Daguerre Canvas. 14″ x 25″inches (or 17″ x 25″ inches with a title).
The humidity was stifling that day in early May. My body was tired and my eardrums were sore from all the ambiance of the carnival. I was experimenting with a cheap lens in poor condition that lacked any redeeming qualities. Luckily, after walking around a bit in the heat, this opportunity came into frame.
King Helmet Conch, Cassis tuberosa, under December sky.
A rusty (new) ladder in the foreground of the frame overlooking the sunset west of Long Cay. Why do they make these ladders, which I assume are expensive, out of metal?
Low lying cumulus clouds float above an atoll at “Blue Hour”. My father, born in 1938 on Cat Island, used kerosene lamps during hurricanes. All the walls in our house were painted white, and when I asked him why, he said so we could see better when the storm shutters were closed. Some wisdom is always lost with the passing of older generations. If you have time, please take a minute to read “Those Winter Sundays” by Robert Hayden. Thanks dad, for polishing my shoes when no one was looking.
I am not a portrait photographer by any means, but this ended up being one the best photographs I’ve ever taken. Many thanks to fisherman Larry Brown bagging fresh conch. He was the only one who allowed (or was indifferent to) me hanging around snapping photos.
This is such a beautiful place. If only there was a way to make money from spending the day out here…