I don’t live far from the beaches that look out at the Irish Sea and across the mouth of both the River Dee and the River Mersey. On countless occasions I’ve sought some kind of refuge in moments looking out over the water, and no matter how many times I’ve stood on a beach looking out across the waves, the allure has never failed to captivate me.

I took these pictures standing on the beach at Waveland in Mississippi. Looking out toward the Gulf of Mexico there was a storm brewing. Rain fell from dense dark clouds that hovered over the water like an alien mother-ship. I stood there in the sunlight watching the dark clouds advance slowly like an ancient army of invaders coming over a hill to do battle.

On a different day I marveled at the towering mega-structure clouds that seem to hang in the air locked in shapes that reminded me of the photographs of galactic star-forming pillars of gas and dust taken by the Hubble space telescope.

And finally, who wouldn’t want to be sat there on the beach in that last picture? When I tell people I visited Mississippi they often look at me with an expression that begs a further explanation. “Mississippi?” They ask. “What’s in Mississippi?”

I’ll confess now that I’m tempted not tell them.