High tides and winter storms leave behind a graveyard of relics.
Denial is delightful. We let ourselves be tricked by beauty: swimming, surfing, clamming and playing in the same ocean that destroys the town.
My fellow obsessive observers join me as witnesses, attending the high tides with the solemnness of a wake and the fascination of a train wreck.
The animals, indigenous and imported, living and dead, occupy the beach and evoke both its wildness and its hazards.
There are two World War II gun turrets, installed for the defense of the Pacific but never used. Their Saturn-like rings rise and disappear in the sand like monuments of a vanished civilization.
I photograph the same places over and over to prove they were here