I disagree.
The far distant island or other shore provides balance.
And certainly we need the full width of the open patch of sky. If you crop too closely to the tip of the harbour town, the connection with the sea gets lost.
In an odd way, this photo reminds me of a visit to Blankenese, a small town north of Hamburg on the Elbe.
We were there many years ago, having had a good bike ride north on our folding bikes, and enjoying a drink at a beach bar.
People were sitting on that river beach, relaxing and playing in the sand.
And suddenly a HUGE container ship sailed past, inwards toward the Hamburg Harbour.
I am getting that sense of strangeness here too, but that sense is augmented by the direction of the ship, coming towards us and the "unsuspecting" beach people.
Not to get into politics, but I am also getting a Persian Gulf vibe. The lives of innocent people living on the coast, upturned by a big threat.
The kindness of strangers.
What isn't showing.
I'm standing on the tip of the opposite jaw to the harbour of Hydra. Much earlier I'd set off on a walk from our room through the old town and over indistinct tracks and the hills behind me. I got lost in a maze of little tracks and gullies There are no cars allowed on Hydra, apart from the harbour. Could I head for the ocean and then follow the coast road back into town. The theory was fine but it turned into a much longer walk than anticipated. As I reached the coast, an unanticipated storm built up. A race began to get back to the town. I made it back around the point as the deluge deluged and took refuge in a small taverna that's behind me here. I sat it out. No money in my pockets. The owners took pity on me and offered me a free and hugely appreciated coffee.
I approached the cat very slowly and crouched down about a meter away.
The cat ignored me and looked away.
When I took the first photo, the sound of leaf shutter caught its attention.
Then this shot followed.
The composition is wonderful with that bold leading line feeding onto a half hidden circle and the nice architectural pieces behind, an easy photo to find our path through. The guy coming out of the jeep is an interesting foreground subject to display in front of all that. He's making an awkward exit from an interesting vehicle and you caught him at the precise "decisive moment". Well done.
Wonderful set of nature photos. I am always torn between capturing the powerful force of such strong water features as this, as you did in the first, or slowing-shuttering for the romantic look of the second. Both are valid, and you've done both well. The first renders a more appealing sky (is there perhaps more to retrieve in the raw file?) so I'm leaning towards that shot.
And for this reason, the paint-version of the second seems more appealing than the straight photo, as the lack of color fits the palette in a painterly way. I am curious how you achieved this. There are many ways to go about it now, but also some of the softwares to create such things are no longer available. If I can find some time this week amidst a slew of medical appointments, I'd like to try a couple of methods on your lovely image.
Edit: I tried to go a little further than you did in the painting business, using Jixipix. I want to try the Impressionist brushes on it but that takes a little more time than I have tonight.
Ah, my first thought was the tail or flipper of a sea animal!
Nice demonstration of balance in composition for a pleasing abstract. The narrow range of focus works OK here, but I hope you tried some with more depth of field too, since you had a lot of spare shutter speed to work with. Some with more DOF would be interesting too.
What an interesting image! I presume Hydra is the name of the city, but it can also serve as a reference the storm that's about to dump a bunch of water on the place, as it enters from Stage Left. The rich blues are pleasing and the contrasting yellows of the lights along the shore add interest. The diagonal sweep of the composition makes the image easy to read. Well done.
This is kinda surreal. The boat is too big; the ladies, who are not in traditional beachwear, seem unconcerned about the monster that appears to be bearing down on them. Indeed, the boat is almost anthropomorphic, with glaring eyes and formidable eyebrows above a gaping mouth half hidden by the sea. I may have nightmares about this one.
I tried to find Hydra with Google Maps but could not immediately find it.
I am wondering exactly where this is.
Maybe it is a city with a similar name, but Mike "mythologized" it...
We were there for all the reasons given in Roel's link. It is quite close by ferry to Athens. We had a short stay in Greece. last year and Hydra was reachable.
Plus one more thing that is significant for Australians of my generation with art/literary interests. Two Australian writers of legendary status. George Johnston and Charmain Clift lived on Hydra in the late 50s, early 60s. Their writing probably gave the travel bug to an Australian generation. They are still worth reading. Clift had an affair with the young Leonard Cohen. Their relationship with him features in the tv series "So long Marianne" He later described them as "inspirational."
Here's an article about them, Cohen and Hydra. www.smh.com.au/culture/books/it-was-my-dream-to-run-away-to-a-greek-island-and-write-a-book-this-year-i-did-it-20230918-p5e5iw.html
In Australian art/literary circles Johnston and Clift are still much discussed. It's a complex mix of Australia, distance and relationships to the world and other cultures, hippiness and male/female relationships. I consider Johnston's "My Brother Jack" as essential reading for understanding Australia in the period from WW1 to the 1950s. It's an Australia that has now gone however the country still likes to think it exists.
Marianne is from Norway. Much later, in her old age, she even attended a Cohen concert. According to Wikipedia:
"The song was inspired by Marianne Jensen, born Marianne Ihlen, whom Cohen met on the Greek island of Hydra in 1960. She had recently been left by her husband, the Norwegian writer Axel Jensen, leaving her and their six-month-old son alone on the island. The two hit it off, and Cohen ultimately took her from Hydra back to her home in Oslo, Norway. He later invited her and her son to live with him in Montreal, an offer which she accepted. The two lived together throughout the 1960s, traveling between New York, Montreal, and Hydra."