Waiting, for me, signifies expectation, anticipation, and the hope that something big is about to come my way. It’s the thrill of breathlessness and the unsettling uncertainty that makes waiting so much painful and yet pristine at the same time. There’s tension in the air and friction in the molecules all around us, and a mystery waiting to unfurl. That’s what I felt while walking down these Pleasanton suburbs. It was at around 7 am and not a cricket was astir. The entire place awaited the buzz of human existence.
In the distance, behind the shadows of these beautiful buildings stood a woman on her porch ready to scare away unwelcome trespassers. Perhaps I appeared too touristy to her, but she ignored my presence and glanced right through me—as if I wasn’t there. Oh, but I was, and I have this picture as a reminder.
When two natural elements come together in an obvious way, we often don’t realise how the other two elements complement and contribute to balance that scenery. Anywhere we turn, there’s water, earth, fire, and air working as one. That’s what I recognised in this picture, when I looked at it months after taking it. The sea and the rocks were obvious, but without the wind and the heat of the atmosphere, the sea wouldn’t have been so ferocious, and the rocks wouldn’t have even existed. Now that’s teamwork.