474 - Pool Guasacate
This shoot was all about paying my respects to the Abstraction Gods. Sometimes a solid photo requires a sacrifice, and during today’s session, three offering were made. Or should I say forcibly taken? I’m not sure on the semantics.
We arrived at our campsite about 5 hours before sunset, a nice little guest lot on the shores of Popoya, Nicaragua. For $14 USD, we got access to electricity, a private porch area, shower, and bathroom. Just dandy.
Our plan was to walk over to Pool Guasacate at sunset for a photoshoot, a tide pool locally known for it’s strange rock formations. Until then, we had time to chill. And when I say “chill” I mean binge-watch more landscape photography editing tutorials in bed. It’s ironic- I used to be bored shitless watching these photography vlogs on YouTube, but I never realized how much I like learning about the editing side of things.
Suddenly I felt a strange itch on my chin. Which lead to me to the First Trial of Abstraction.
I always know it’s time to shave when I get my first beard itch. Once it starts, it never stops. So I’m quick to cut the problem. My general technique involves standing outside in front of the 5% tint grade windows of the van, hooking my shaver up to my external battery, and going to town. It’s always entertaining to locals watching from the distance.
But after about 90 seconds of shaving bliss, I felt a strong pinch on my calf. Followed by intense electrical volts, then searing pain on my muscle.
I looked down at my leg that turned red as a tomato. Some type of bug got me… I guess I wasn’t the only one buzzing around here. I looked around and saw a few culprits- some flies, two bee-like creatures, and one big red wasp looking thing. And if I’m being honest, the thing felt like a scorpion, which I’d experienced once in Katemcy, Texas. I don’t know how it would have gotten up my leg though.
I finished shaving my face and took a closer look at the leg. Ground zero was swollen and red. Every time I moved the leg my muscle would burn, and send electrical shocks to the surrounding area. What the hell was this?
I tried not to let my worries get to me. Based on experience, bug bites are usually only bad if you a.) start to feel dizzy, nauseous, or diarrhea, b.) the bite starts turning dark and/or looks infected, or c) you develop some type of symptoms for a fucked up tropical disease. I’d just have to wait this baby out.
Luckily for me, I had no problem laying down. After about 90 minutes and a solid glass of pear juice, the pain faded. The sun was starting to look a bit toasty, so I started thinking about our journey to the tidepools. I had passed the First Trial.
The Second Trial began shortly after. I don’t think I mentioned earlier that the walk over to the tide pool from our campsite was about ¾ of a mile down the beach. Ideal for a normal person, non-ideal for a person with their foot fractured to pieces. My preferred method of travel lately had been crutches.
Since I’d already been stung, I realized I was committed now. I wasn’t going to leave this place with a gnarly wasp scar and no photo. I’d crawl there if I had to.
So about two hours before sunset, our venture began. It started off well, but dissolved into me dragging my booted foot through the sand. My knee muscles just couldn’t hold it up anymore.
I soon realized that I’d been on crutches for almost exactly a month now. A whole month. Medical advise online claimed that the fracture would heal itself in 6-8 weeks, and walking could be attempted in the boot at your own pain tolerance. I’d never even tried walking yet. I was too scared of the pain.
Hmmm. I’d decided I’d risk it. I’ll take a few cautious steps and see what happens- worst case scenario I fall flat on my face in the sand. I inched my foot down into the soft dunes, and slowly put my weight on it. Nothing happened.
No pain, no sear, no nothing. Just a normal foot on normal sand. I let out a breath of air and took another step. Nothing. “I CAN WALK!” I screamed. I wonder if this is how babies feel when they take their first steps.
For the rest of the journey I alternated between crutching and walking (very) slowly on my booted foot. Eventually we arrived- and the Second Trial was complete.
I took in a mess of rocks that looked straight out of Chinese rice plantation. They were like mini blue pools separated by loose octagonal walls. And the waves were hitting them oh-so-delicately… I walked over and setup shop with my tripod, ready for the sun to set. I had made it.
I waited and wait. But the longer we stood there, the closer the waves got.
Finally one had enough balls to get some air, effectively scaring the bejesus out of me and my precariously balanced tripod. As I looked down at my now drenched boot, I took in the reality of the Third Trial.
For context here, you must know that I’m a stubborn man. And once I find a composition I like, I’m keen to stick with it- no matter what. So as wave after wave obliterated my four-footed atrocity (that’s what I call my three tripod legs and my one good leg,) I dug deep. All I had to do was keep shooting until the sun was gone.
I think there’s some song about how the sun always sets, and I’d include the lyrics here if I knew the words. But I don’t, so let’s just say it eventually set.
I walked away from the scene certain I had a banger. But as I stepped off the tide pools to walk back, I couldn’t help but notice one more soft scene under my foot. The rock looked like a smiling god, textured to perfect. He laughed as he knew I had made it. I snagged this:
“Smile of the Abstracts”
Taken on Sony a7rIII + Zeiss 24-70mm f/4
[ISO 1600 ~ 24mm ~ f/4 ~ 1/50s]
(Want a Print? Get one here.)
And that my friends, was the Trials of Abstraction. Three tests in the name of a simple abstract photo. If the photography gods were real, they put up a good fight today.
No image came from the pounding waves I spent all shoot trying to capture. Was that one macro shot worth all the trouble? Some might argue yes, some might argue no. Either way it was fun as hell.
I’m on a mission to explore as much as humanely possible.
Want to see my progress? Check out the Adventure Map.
*Please note this page contains affiliate links.
