Description
The second of this series of three made with a drone near Arcachon, the image reverses the balance of power: the sand withdraws to the margins and lets the surface occupy almost the entire frame. The raking light catches the chop and turns it into a tight, almost textile grain, while beneath the transparency the shallows trace dark ramifications, like branches lying under the water. On the right, two tongues of golden sand still wind their way, the last lands before submersion. And then there is that tiny point, a lone boat in the midst of the green, which keeps the eye from tipping entirely into abstraction. That is the vocation of this series: to photograph not a place but an interval — the one in which the tide redistributes sand, water and light each day, never producing the same drawing twice.
