Warmth Remains

I was at Virginia Beach on a family trip and decided to wake up for sunrise.

My ten-year-old nephew came with me. I wanted to show him a few things with the camera, but mostly I wanted him to experience what it was like to be out there early, waiting to see what the morning might give us.

And that morning gave us quite a bit.

As the sun came up, the water seemed to glow. The warm orange light spread across the surface of the ocean, and for a while we just watched it together. I remember how incredible it was seeing him take it in too.

Eventually I turned my camera toward the water. Rather than photograph the sunrise itself, I wanted to isolate what had caught my attention—the movement of the ocean and all of that warmth reflected across it.

I started looking for something more abstract. Less about the ocean as a place and more about the feeling of standing there in that light.

The color in this photograph is very close to what we saw that morning. It really was that warm.

But when I return to this image, the light isn’t the first thing I think about. I think about being there with him.

It’s become a core memory for me, and long after that morning ended, the warmth of it remains.