Foley Photography

Tina and I had walked past this rock a dozen times during our week in Cancun. I knew that I’d eventually come back alone to photograph it.

Each time I saw it, I watched how it looked in between waves. It had clearly been there for some time (it’s maybe three or four feet tall) and the water had taken a toll. Nevertheless, it looked stoic and strong to me. I suppose, in my mind, I gave the rock a personality. It was someone who came to work each day and did their job without complaint. It was predictable.

I also watched how the waves hit it. The waves sometimes pound the beach in Cancun with serious force, and we played in them when they were a good four feet high. However, they never seemed to rise over the rock. The water would, instead, roll around the rock, ceding to its force. The rock held its ground and stayed above the water.

So, one morning, I headed out by myself for a little bit, camera in hand. I stopped by the rock and spent five minutes watching the water and the rock interact. I knew what I wanted to do — I wanted one shot where the rock sat in relatively calm water and one where waves were breaking around it. The waves came in, and went out, in a fairly predictable pattern. And, as I said, they rolled around the rock. They didn’t ever seem to crash over the top of it in a reckless manner. So there didn’t seem to be much risk involved in kneeling down beneath the rock. I didn’t think I’d have any problem getting myself and (more importantly) my camera out of the way of the wetness.

Clearly, I was wrong.