I meant to write this post two years ago, and had I followed through on that impulse the title would have had a nice and tidy number in it. It would have been one of those shiny numerals easily divisible by five that pushy organizers of high school reunions tend to love so much. But as is my modus operandi, the first draft lingered in my edit folder and well, here we are. You get “17 Years of Photography at the Jersey Shore” instead. 17 is the forgotten middle child of the late teens. 17 doesn’t have the glamour of a sweet sixteen with all its implied vehicular freedom, nor does it have the imaginary gravitas of 18 when we all pretend to become adults. No 17 is just a regular old prime number that signifies you forgot to memorialize something two years ago. In the context of this blog post though, 17 means something.
For the past 17 summers my family has been lucky enough to make the “Pennsylvanian Pilgrimage” to the Jersey Shore. “Why the Jersey Shore?” you may ask? I guess you could say I married into it. My wife grew up spending her summer vacations in Stone Harbor, NJ and as a beach-lover, was more than happy to continue that tradition with our fledgling family.
Unlike my spouse, I would not assign myself to the “Beach-Lover” category. I would probably more closely self-identify as a “Beach Tolerater.” As a member of that particular cohort, I’m good for about two hours in the surf, sun, and sand (The Holy “S” Trinity as I’m sure some Beach Lovers call it.) After that amount of time, I’m actively planning how to extract myself to somewhere with A/C and wondering what’s for lunch.
Despite my beach biases, I could see how much joy the shore brought to my wife and kids. Joy, that by the transitive property of vacation time, was passed along to me. It was an easy decision to come back year after year.
There were some perks though. Early on, the Jersey Shore was a new and exciting photography location. With ocean-side beauty, the vibrant colors and neon signs of nearby boardwalks, and all the little details of a seaside town, the area doesn’t lack subject matter diversity.
Do you like photographing birds? Check.
Drawn to vibrant sunrises and sunsets? Bingo.
A voyeur who enjoys capturing people? The Jersey Shore’s got you covered.
Hell, there’s even a free zoo (donations highly encouraged) if you want to dip your toe into animal photography. This post is littered with some of my favorite photographs covering many of those genres.
As the years passed, photographing the same things over and over again did get to be a bit of a challenge. For photographic-purposes, I find that I’m most often invigorated and engaged by new places. Revisiting the same subjects in the same locale year after year found me obsessing over how to find new and interesting ways to capture them. I mean, there’s only so many times you can photograph saltwater taffy in a compelling way. While this minor obsession didn’t necessarily detract from the enjoyment of my annual family vacation as a whole, it was something that occupied a non-zero amount of my thoughts.
After a few years of this self-imposed Jersey Shore photography stagnation, I stumbled on a little bit of clarity that helped me relax a little more and not think about what I might be missing out on photographically. The boys are getting older, and it’s unclear how many trips where all five of us will be together are in our future. I do know with certainty that more “complete” family vacations are in our past than lay ahead. With that realization in mind, I tried to take in as much of this most recent getaway as I could. I chose to be present, enjoy the time with the boys and my wife, and let the experience, and whatever photography came with it, just happen.
I can’t say for certain whether I captured some of my best images of the Jersey Shore this year or not. Time has a way of cutting the wheat from the chaff when it comes to my photographs. What I do know is this year’s trip to Stone Harbor was one of my favorite vacations in recent memory. I wasn’t worried about getting better as a photographer, seeing new things, or missing out on great images.
Sometimes it’s okay to stand still, as long as you’re happy with the view.
Leave a reply