Cape May: Footsteps at Sunrise

The discovery happened unexpectedly, as the best ones often do. During a cooking class in Cape Town, South Africa, I slipped away for a moment of refuge—sometimes I need a break from the kitchen—and wandered into a small adjacent coffee shop. On the wall hung something remarkable: an image that existed in the space between photograph and painting. It had visible brushstrokes yet none of the textured depth of oil on canvas. A photograph, transformed.

Intrigued, I asked the proprietor about it. The photographer had created the effect in Photoshop, he told me. I'm always searching for new techniques when I travel, for perspectives I haven't yet encountered. This painterly effect was unlike anything I'd seen. From that moment, I was determined to learn how to recreate it.

The technique doesn't work on every image—only certain photographs reveal themselves through this lens. During a September 2025 trip to Cape May, New Jersey, I captured numerous sunrise scenes along the beach. This one, with its solitary trail of footsteps leading toward the light, became one of my favorites. And it carries a weight beyond aesthetics.

My mother had just passed away after a long illness. She was ninety-five. When I looked at these footsteps in the sand, I thought of the old story—perhaps you know it—about the man who dreams he's walking beside Jesus along a beach. As scenes from his life unfold, he sees two sets of footprints: his own and Jesus's. But during the hardest times, only one set remains. Feeling abandoned, he asks why he was left alone during his darkest hours. Jesus answers: "It was then that I carried you."

The message speaks of comfort and divine presence—the assurance that even in our loneliest moments, we are held.

My mom, Mary Anne Aussem, passed away on September 10th, 2025. We held her service on September 24th, and I delivered the eulogy. I included a passage about a favorite Beatles song, "Let It Be":

Whenever I hear the Beatles song "Let It Be," I think of my mom:

When I find myself in times of trouble
Mother Mary comes to me
Speaking words of wisdom
Let it be

Cape May-Footsteps on the Beach at Sunrise

And in my hour of darkness
She is standing right in front of me
Speaking words of wisdom
Let it be

Paul McCartney once explained that he wasn't being sacrilegious, as some assumed—he was writing about his own mother. Now, whenever I hear these words, I think of mine. Let it be. The song was written nearly sixty years ago, yet it feels as though he wrote it for me yesterday.