Sometimes you come to the shore intending to shoot an ordinary landscape — and end up captivated by something else entirely.
At first glance, it all looked perfectly familiar: mountains and sea to the left, sea and mountains to the right.
I wandered along the coast, capturing waves breaking against the rocks, until, at some point, I simply turned my back to the water.
A sandy expanse stretched out before me, and on the horizon rose what looked like a mesa. The scene suddenly evoked the films of John Ford — as if riders escorting a stagecoach were just about to appear on the distant ridge.
I lowered my eyes — and found the first unexpected frame.
I kept walking, shooting whatever caught my attention, and gradually uncovered a whole world of miniature landscapes.
The camera dipped lower, and the search pulled me deeper. Before I knew it, I was lying on the sand, aiming at yet another stone with such focus, as if I held a rifle, not a camera.
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