Heather is a magical creature: she speaks softly and steadily, and her energy never knocks you down or over, but provides a current of strength that accompanies her movement. I met Heather on a surf trip in Ireland – she was my mountain rock when I felt very sea-legged and wobbly.

One day she took out her photographs. We had just finished dinner, after a long day of surf, and she set them down in a stack on the long wooden communal dining table. I started going through them and found myself in a warm place. Heather’s photos were her, they were Ireland, they were the surf: strong, beautiful, enchanted, vital.

I love how these tiny photos interacted with each other, triptychs forming in front of my eyes as I went through the photos again and again, finding correlation between elements, finding cycles of un-doing to becoming, of understanding, of water, of potential.

Heather’s photos reveal, very softly, that mystic sense of potential that exists in nature when you get up close to see the details and are struck (perhaps mute) by their power and immensity.

I love her dearly and the whole world makes sense when you see her photos, hear her speak, and are held in her arms. (PORTRAIT OF HEATHER BY JOHN COADY)