A horizon. The last day of a month. The contours of a moon as it waxes and wanes, or is bisected into planes by cloud ribbons. A season as it elides into its successor. A dock’s sharp edges rendered in wavering saltwater. The end of the visible world. On edge. Over the edge: on the verge of a nervous breakdown.
Edges of stone and glass and steel. Of solid and liquid, land and air. A rainbow’s or razor’s edge. The edge of extinction and at a day’s beginning and end. Crossing over the edge from photograph into art.
Of all the edges I’ve photographed, it’s the last and most metaphorical that immediately came to mind: not a visible border, but a feeling–of decided, edgy discomfort–captured in a single image of infinite shifting edges of basalt near the unsettled black sands of Reynifjara, Iceland. Sharply-shifting planes. Off-kilter bones of bilious algae-green.
Another feeling entirely was captured in photos near the end of my husband’s life, at the end of our world, when he held onto a cliff’s edge and snapped pictures of rare Pacific nesting birds:
“We rowed to the island where . . . offspring were likely to have recently hatched. . . . [He] carefully clambered to the cliff’s edge while the rest of us stood at the short distance the island’s circumference permitted. He beamed at us, his backpack weighting him as he stood with his back to the sheer drop-off to blue-green water and ragged volcanic rock. I held my breath as he slipped almost entirely out of view while leaning away from the cliff’s edge at a respectful distance from the nest, which was built into the cliff’s face and none of the rest of us could see. Jim may well have been the only human ever to have had that vantage point and beheld those new lives.
I watched the sun glint off something out of sight, probably his wedding band, as he clicked his camera’s shutter with his free hand. I shouted into the wind for my terminally ill husband, who would not survive that season, to be careful.
I am sure he grinned if my voice carried his way.”
Love in the Spaces 
Great photos. I love the angles and perspectives on many. Well done.
Thank you, John!
“Careful: making sure of avoiding potential danger, mishap, or harm; cautious.” Sounds good, until you realize that life has no intention of being careful with us. Amazing photographs and always appreciate your beautiful writing.
Thank you! I still need to work on accepting the bumps and their complicated, sometimes very hard-to-fathom beauty and grace
Yes… bumps can possess complicated beauty and grace. And, I agree, trying to see that beauty and grace is work.
Beautiful, inspiring gallery, Stephanie. Excellent post!
Thank you!
Fabulous post, Stephanie. Inspiring thoughts/memories and photos. I’m so happy you joined us this week.
So much to love about your post Stephanie. The photography is wonderful – I especially loved the abstracts. I also appreciate the many ways you interpreted the challenge. And of course your closing image and thoughts with so much meaning. Beautifully done as always.
Thank you, Tina–I’m so glad to be able to join in the prompts again and think about how to interpret and share my own pictures in ways I hadn’t considered.
A beautiful post in both words and images, conjuring the unsettling nature of many edges. I most love your semi-abstract photos such as the Reynifjara rocks and the floating leaf.
Thank you! Always so interesting to hear which pictures people like best, and to realize that I often seek out at least vaguely unsettling images (which can still be so beautiful….I guess that could also be a metaphor for my life the last many years–it’s the old “a beautiful and a terrible thing”)
I’m in owe with your photos, Stephanie! Thank you for sharing your thoughts with us. The rocks is incredible,
That’s very kind of you, and I love seeing what you come up with
Stunning photos as always Stephanie. That sky is awesome
I am a ridiculous hoarder of skies, I confess. It’s nice to have an excuse to share some!
A very beautiful post, Stephanie. Your photography is great and the abstracts especially attracted me. Well done.
Many thanks, Leya! I love going through old shots with a theme in mind, an excellent excuse to go back in time….
Another amazing collection of fabulous photos, Steph! Such talent!
Thank you! I may have a few hundred thousand more to sort through……
Stephanie, I always look forward to your posts. They are so carefully crafted, and detailed with things we might not notice without your vision I especially love the dock and pier this week, and you also grab my heart with thoughts of your husband. It is a love story filled with memories you continue to share even if it might feel hard.
Thank you so much, and for reading and coming back (it’s not exactly been light writing/reading all these years)