Beach Race

Morning Beach Chase: A Serendipitous Moment in Cape May

Photography has always been more than a hobby for me—it's a passion that continually challenges me as I explore different genres and environments. Despite life's many demands, my most treasured moments are those spent alone with my camera, seeking to capture the world through my unique perspective. I'm perpetually hunting for that perfect angle, magical lighting, and compelling subjects that tell stories without words.

One golden morning in Cape May, while photographing black skimmers against the canvas of the Atlantic, I captured what would become one of my favorite images. For weeks, I had been documenting these elegant birds as they gracefully glided over the waves, their slender forms silhouetted against the rising sun, weaving effortlessly over early morning surfers. Then, as if orchestrated by fate itself, serendipity struck.

In what can only be described as divine timing, a little girl darted into my frame, creating a breathtaking juxtaposition with the birds in flight. I hadn't even noticed her presence until I returned home and reviewed the images on my Mac. The moment I saw it, I knew this was something extraordinary—a once-in-a-lifetime shot that perfectly captured both wild freedom and innocent joy. I immediately titled it "The Race."

The story doesn't end there, though. I had observed this child and her mother on the beach during early mornings for two consecutive days. Like most passionate photographers, I take hundreds—sometimes thousands—of images in pursuit of just a few exceptional ones. When I discovered this magical moment among my collection, I was both astonished and elated.

My wife, seeing the remarkable photograph, insisted I locate the mother and daughter to share this captured memory. In a bustling beach town in September, the odds seemed impossibly slim—they could have departed Cape May entirely or simply chosen a different stretch of sand that day. After an exhaustive search yielded nothing, I was about to surrender when, by another stroke of fortune, I spotted them strolling along the Boardwalk.

Summoning my courage, I approached them and showed the mother the photograph on my iPhone, where I had transferred it so I could send it to her. While she appreciated it (perhaps not with the same intensity as I did—understandably, as she was managing an energetic 4 year old), I was grateful for the opportunity to share this fleeting moment I had preserved.

This experience reinforced a profound lesson in photography: often, the most extraordinary images emerge not from relentless pursuit but from mindful presence and unwavering persistence. By immersing myself completely in the moment and allowing the image to find me rather than forcing it, I captured something I could never have orchestrated. This isn't to diminish the importance of planning—technical preparation remains crucial. But when photographing people and wildlife, there exists an element of serendipity that you'll never find when shooting architecture or landscapes. This unpredictability only enhances the challenge and makes the satisfaction of capturing that special image all the more rewarding.

I'm discovering that patience may well be a photographer's greatest asset—a quality I continue to cultivate as I eagerly anticipate more magical moments like this one where nature, humanity, and timing converge in perfect harmony.

The Race