Bridges have always fascinated me, not just as feats of engineering, but as visual expressions of connection. The St. George Island Bridge, with its elegant curve and open sweep toward the Gulf, is one I’ve photographed many times. Each visit reveals something new in the light, the sky, or the shifting patterns of water below. On this particular day, the view from beneath the bridge offered a perfect balance of structure and atmosphere, a meeting of strength and serenity that I couldn’t resist capturing.

Photographed from beneath the Apalachicola side, the St. George Island Bridge reveals its graceful curve as it rises toward the island. The composition emphasizes rhythm and strength—the repeating columns, the undercarriage details, and the subtle twist of concrete leading into open sky.

I chose a monochrome palette to draw attention to form and texture, allowing the play of light on water and steel to become the story. The sweeping cloud above mirrors the bridge’s curve, uniting structure and nature in a quiet dialogue.

Though architectural in subject, the image carries the sensibility of a landscape—a study of the connection between land, sea, and sky, where engineering meets poetry in light.

Standing beneath the towering structure was mesmerizing. The bridge soared above, its massive undercarriage twisting into the distance, a geometric marvel against the sky. Streetlights aligned like sentinels, fading toward the horizon. To my left, the sky shifted in a soft gradient from dark to light, where wisps of clouds drifted like wild cotton candy. At my feet, the water gently lapped the shore—small tidal waves breaking rhythmically among strands of seagrass, adding motion and texture to the calm scene.

During the shoot, I focused intently on composition, employing exposure bracketing—a technique I’ve trusted since my commercial photography days with 4×5 chrome film. Digital photography, to me, mirrors shooting transparency film: highlights must be protected, and timing is everything. As I waited for the perfect moment, I noticed another photographer nearby framing his shot and wondered about his perspective on this same bridge.

Amid the hum of life beneath the span—fishermen, cars, boats, and voices—I captured my ideal frame. Processing it in black and white emphasized the bridge’s stark elegance, strengthening contrast and shadow. This choice underscored the seamless blend of natural beauty and human engineering, rendered in a moment of serenity and admiration.

Accompanying me that day was a photographer friend visiting from the Georgia mountains. He and his wife were staying with friends in nearby Carrabelle, and together we spent the day exploring and scouting new photographic subjects. I typically shoot alone unless I’m working with a student or, as in this case, a friend eager to experience the places I frequent.

This image was made with a Hasselblad 907x 50c and a rented XCD 28mm f/4 P lens from LensRentals—a test that quickly convinced me. Optically, it met every expectation; in weight and balance, it exceeded them. Six weeks later, I purchased the lens from Hasselblad, no small feat given its continued high demand.

Since 2021, I’ve relied almost exclusively on the 907x with the 45P lens—a minimalist approach that’s refined my practice and been kind to my budget. As I build my Hasselblad three-lens kit, emphasizing lightness and precision, the 28P and 45P serve me beautifully. I’m simply waiting on a longer focal length in the P series to complete the trio.

In the end, this photograph reminds me why I continue to chase light and form in the most familiar places. The St. George Island Bridge may be a structure I’ve passed countless times, but each encounter offers a new perspective — a different interplay of clouds, tide, and tone. Photography, for me, has always been about that quiet rediscovery: seeing something ordinary with renewed appreciation, and finding beauty in the balance between what is built and what simply exists.