“Bring me the sunset in a cup,” once said Emily Dickinson.

Since last March, Edmonds photographer Roger A. Barnstead has responded to Dickinson’s challenge with astonishing commitment by capturing the glorious waterfront sunsets of Edmonds in extraordinary images. It’s a passion that’s inspiring to his many fans.

With his artist’s eye, Barnstead literally sees a photo possibility every which way he turns. “Astoundingly beautiful,” he declares of practically every moment of sunset that he witnesses. It’s no wonder he has a huge and loyal following on www.nextdoor.com.

Barnstead’s website, www.sunsetsofthepandemic.com, subtitled “Sunsets from Edmonds WA in the time of Covid,” chronicles his unique love affair with these exquisite Edmonds twilights. He started the site as “a simple answer to raising morale in Edmonds” during the pandemic: “…To capture the sunset along the town’s waterfront and sharing…with whoever wanted to see them.”

The photos are posted each night on the site and on the Nextdoor app, sometimes with the help of friend Kelly Humann, whom Barnstead calls “a good man and true.”

Available in electronic format and sometimes as prints, the photos are free for the asking. In exchange, Barnstead encourages all comers to make a donation to the local Edmonds Food Bank.

“Stop by the website for more ranting and photographs. www.sunsetsofthepandemic.com. Help feed the hungry! edmondsfoodbank.org.”

Each evening, with few exceptions, the intrepid Barnstead treks to Sunset Avenue along the water’s edge, where he can be found camped out on the last bench going north on the street. Even when feeling under the weather, he manages to capture waterfront visions featuring gorgeous colors with which one can truly fall in love.

“Most photos are taken there, or from the four benches going south, or the dog park,” he says. From the rim one can get a perfect view of the sun from March through September,” he says. “When the sun ends up in the southwest, above the ferry terminal, depending on the winds, you can get the top of the ferry.”

Before coming to Edmonds, where he has lived for 15 years, Barnstead lived in Valdez, Alaska, working as a pollution investigator in extremely cold conditions with 40 feet of snowfall a year. Oil spills were his specialty.

“My job was to inspect oil tankers to make sure oil transfers going to Puget Sound were in accordance with US regulations, to make sure spills were cleaned up, and to give out fines where necessary,” he says. “Some of the big oil spills were from fishing boats. One hit an iceberg and sank with thousands of gallons oil. Another sank just after the first one, an even bigger spill.”

The stories of such blunders would sound absurd if they weren’t so serious. One boat sank when a navigator went to get a cup of coffee and left the bridge unattended. Another ran to the back of the boat to answer his cellphone, left it in neutral, and it turned to the right, ending on top of a well-marked reef.

From Valdez, Barnstead was transferred to Seattle—with a promotion.

“After 9-11, Valdez went from a sleepy town to the number-one terrorist target on the west coast of the U.S.,” he says, “Super maritime security mode. Boats, planes, weapons. You name it.”

Following an emergency spill in Seattle in 2005, Barnstead became involved in analyzing threats to the Port of Seattle/Puget Sound for terrorist activities. It was an interesting job, he says: search and rescue, port and ferry security, naval escorts for nuclear submarines. Danger points down the coast from Alaska were located at refineries such as those in Anacortes. The part of the job he liked best was search and rescue.

“There’s no other job like it. It’s the best job in world,” he declares. “Every day you go out to save lives and property. Though it’s heartbreaking when you try and just can’t. Especially in the north, where it’s cold and folks don’t last long in water.”

Barnstead retired in 2009. He wanted move back to Alaska, but fate kept him in Edmonds in the form of his wife’s family’s special needs. It was here that he followed his artistic muse:  photographing sunsets.

“I had stroke year ago, was physically incapacitated, couldn’t walk well,” he explains. “It’s just a short jaunt from my house to the benches. It gave me a reason to get out every day.”

He gradually increased his distances and started taking photos of the sunsets, which he found too beautiful to pass up. “I started my blog in March 2019. I make an entry every day, some on Nextdoor, some on the blog.”

Some of Roger’s favorite photos:

Barnstead says he always has kept a camera with him. In Coast Guard boot camp in Cape May, N.J., he remembers his company commanders striding up and down, yelling, “You’ll wish you had a camera here!” At the next possible opportunity, he brought a simple camera and started taking photos. Just before retirement, he obtained a more sophisticated apparatus and became further involved in photography, eventually opening his own studio in downtown Edmonds.

He has no idea who follows him on either site. He just wants to keep putting photos up, with a running account of what he’s doing. Occasionally, he says, people private message him on NextDoor that he is taking up too much space. But that is relatively rare. When he hovers by the waterfront people come by, offering praise, asking to buy his photos.

“I’m not doing this to sell photos. I ask them to give money to food bank,” he says. He also doesn’t talk to people about photography technique. “I point and click. You can’t argue with that. And you can do something good out of it. But my profession is mariner. It’s a vast subject you can’t learn in one lifetime.”

Barnstead’s website is a cornucopia of stunning shots. His plan for all of these wonderful photos? He’s working on book with composer friend Charles Roland Berry. “The other Chuck berry,” he quips.

Every day he takes more pictures. It’s his passion; he can’t stop. “Next March will be a whole year on Sunset Avenue,” he says. It helps that he’s “married to most wonderful woman on planet,” as he says of wife Cheryl. “I’m the luckiest man on earth.” He is also lucky to have a following of loyal fans, who sing his praises with every photo posted.

His descriptions of the inspiring views are colorful and evocative. Recent posts include: “Sunset 9 December 2020. Pow! It looked rather explosive! Such a beautiful night it looked good in every direction. So many nice people came by and said hello…After a few days of dark soggy skies, it was good to see a full charged sunset!”

Two days later, he wrote, “Sunset for 11 December 2020…at the pier. Tonight’s golden hour was truly golden. The sun was so bright my eyes hurt! It was like another planet last night.”

His enthusiasm in writing about the ferry is infectious. “Dec. 12. Follow that ferry! As if she were leaving a trail of sunlight in her wake! Another golden hour of power has come to shine across our clouded hills! Winter solstice is on the 21st! Then that old sun will start moving its way back to the North and West!”

Reactions from his avid fans include, “Gorgeous…Breathtaking…Beautiful and nicely framed…Like a painting.”

“Light rain and clouds,” Barnstead writes one evening. “Warm enough, it was astoundingly beautiful. It is easy to see where I could take several hundred photos while I am out there. Tonight, I stood for a long while just watching the show in the skies! I can’t say enough about its awesome beauty…”

Yours truly called one photo “A religious experience.” To which Barnstead replied: “Aren’t they all?”

— By Erica Miner.