Coinciding with the 2020 pandemic, I moved to a new apartment. It was full of stress, and change, and pivotal time in life, all outside of the pandemic. I found myself in a new apartment that is just 640 feet from door step to toes in water.

Since that move, the daily routine of sunrise has changed quite a lot. In 2019, I estimate that I drove to my sunrise location no fewer than 355 times. While driving gave me the ability to get to a greater variety of locations each morning, I found it to be an added stress to drive each morning. There is a lightness is being able to walk out the door and be on the beach in just a couple minutes.

The proximity to sunrise that I now have, has its cons. Though I love that lightness, it’s also difficult to feel a new experience and capture a new composition in the place where you’ve watched countless sunrises.

And it’s pros. I now have such an intimate knowledge of this place. I know exactly where the tree root is that I used to trip over, and feel I could step over it while blindfolded now (ok, let’s not test that). I know who I’ll see at sunrise, I know exactly where the sun will rise, I know how quickly the leaves will fall, and where the geese and seagulls will congregate.

Am I left with only one question. Where does Shiras Park end and McCarty’s Cove begin? For my purposes, I believe it’s where the culvert comes out at the end of Crescent Street.

After being gone for more than a couple days, more than any other sunrise location, returning the beach at Shiras Park feels like coming home.

Of 1,359 published sunrises, 331 have been from Shiras Park, representing 24.4% of the project.