September was a month of getting away from it all. On a whim, I packed off to Hatteras for a few days to go camping. I spent my time reading Kerouac, fighting off the bugs last hurrah of the year, and soul-searching on the cool sands of September. Shot with a Nikon D5300.
Some sort of weather vane, maybe? I was mesmerized by how vibrant its colors were against the backdrop of earth tones.
We find God in the strangest places, don’t we? I don’t know that I’d consider myself religious in the institutional sense, but there’s reminders everywhere there has to be something.
The Outer Banks are at their best when things look weathered – it’s why I can’t stand the development further north. There’s something more honest, more humble when we try to coexist with, not overcome, the elements.
Pretty sure I was the only tent camper at the campground. Maybe they’re onto something?
It’s so rare I’m willing to get up *just* for a sunset, but then I’m reminded why it’s worth it.
This dune might as well have been a mountain, I know how to handle rock, branches, dirt, but loose sand? Woof.
It’s funny, I think I spent more time being in awe of how the light hit that pole than I have of some renowned pieces of art.
Sunset from my camp spot. I think evenings are what I dislike the most camping alone. If I try to read a book I get swamped by bugs half the time, I’ve already had dinner, but it’s too early to go to sleep. I’m left in an eerie silence with my thoughts, simply having to exist with myself with no distractions. Scary.
The campsite was next to a private airport that had clearly seen better days. The fencing was easy enough to walk around, but I liked the framing.
Only places I have no intention on entering have no trespassing signs, it seems…
There’s a certain liberation from beach driving I don’t get from anything else.
Saw this on one of the residential backroads of Hatteras. While I’m sure tourists stroll down all the time, I did feel the need to cut my stroll short at a point.
The path to the beach from my camp spot wasn’t far, but there was a solitude that made time feel like it was passing slower.
Aren’t we all just sun-bleached pickles?
For somewhere as impermanent as the Outer Banks, some places feel they could’ve been built 5 or 50 years ago.
Obligatory hero sunrise shot. I looked like a jackass in my Flexlite Air hobbling up every time the light did something novel, I’m sure.
There was something funny to me about having an official pedestrian crossing sign there, don’t know why.
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