A wave explodes over the dark rocks in a burst of white. For even mountains will move when the streams demand it.
The city's lights stretch into long streaks of color, turned on their head.Streaks of light scribble across the dark.
A wave bursts upward, backlit by the setting sun.
The Hotel del Coronado's red turret blazes against the night sky.A tide pool mirrors the rocks and the morning sky in Pacific Grove.
The last light fades over the Pacific as the waves roll in.
Pigeon Point Lighthouse stands tall and white against a clear blue sky.Red streaks of cloud burn over the dark Pacific.
A container ship slides beneath the Golden Gate Bridge.
Edison bulbs glow against patterned wallpaper, a pressure gauge below.Ice plant blooms on the bluff above the rocky shore at Pescadero.
Pigeon Point Lighthouse at sunset.
A twisted tree in silhouette, the sun burning through its branches.San Francisco's towers through a round window, the Transamerica spire at its center.
The Golden Gate Bridge crosses the bay, the city beyond.
An offshore platform rises from the haze on the Pacific.A dark stone sits in the surf as the sun sets over the waves.
Golden cliffs drop to the surf along the Pacific.
A sailboat crosses beneath the Golden Gate's red span, the city stacked beyond.A wave slides back over wet black sand. It is empathy that allows us to bridge our oceans.
Waves break over the dark rocks under a pale sky.A small waterfall tumbles over boulders and tall grass.
