I live along an estuary that people call a lake.
While the origin of the misnomer is unknown, Lake Pontchartrain in Southeastern Louisiana is a tidal inlet of the sea subject to waves, storm surge, salt and freshwater tide flows. It connects to the Gulf of Mexico via The Rigolets straight and fresh water comes in from nearby bayous. Since it is not a self contained body of water, odd things wash up.
In July 2005 I photographed an archaic looking structure I learned was the 1854 West Rigolets lighthouse. A month later it was destroyed by hurricane Katrina. When I returned after the storm I looked up and saw a fishing net draped like a sculpture on a tree. In 2012 I stared in disbelief at the New Orleans floodgate sign floating at my feet. Living through subsequent storms, feelings of shock and awe took turns as dueling emotional states. Over the next 10 years I came to realize the weather patterns had four distinct mental aspects: before, during, after and dreading the next storm.
This cycle became the photographic series entitled The Hurricane Quartet.