A decade ago, I was in southern Argentina, on my travels around South America. I have fond memories of camping out close to the Perito Moreno Glacier, with some friends from the Raleigh International expedition I had just completed. The previous night, we were kept awake by the violent sound of huge chunks of ice carving off the glacier.
I arose at 4am and walked to the glacier to watch dawn break. It was a truly spellbinding moment. Unfortunately, the next time I visited the glacier, you were no longer allowed to camp in the National Park, so a doubly lucky moment.
Not sure when I took this image of the West Pier in Brighton after it burned down in March 2003. However, I do recall the most remarkable thing about the evening was the sky filled with a flock of starlings around sunset. They performed a beautiful celestial ballet above the pier, mirroring the motion of the waves beneath them.
Whilst out in Colorado earlier this year, we drove past a field of horses each day on the way to Snowmass. Aside form a few cars passing, the scene was tranquil with only the occasional sound of crunching snow as the horses walked towards the fence to see what I was up to.
Back in 2011, I was on assignment for Lonely Planet in South America, gathering some new shots for their online library. This was taken in the middle of nowhere in southern Bolivia, less than 100 miles form the Chilean and Argentinian borders, close to the Salar de Uyuni. It was late afternoon and the heat of the day in the altiplano desert was rapidly evapourating as the steely grip of night gathered traction.
Temperatures regularly drop to -20 degrees Celsius. That night was no exception.
On a walk along Exmouth beach, the light was not particularly interesting, so I decided to play with my Lee Big Stopper, so blur the waves behind the lifebuoy. The colour cast of the filter and the strong red of the lifebuoy made up for the flat skies.
Nature is often endowed with beautiful patterns that can only be witnessed from certain angles, making them all the more delightful you finally see them. A river running through a forest in Berkshire created a scare line in the dense, evergreen forest. The view is more akin to Scandinavia than Berkshire. I can almost smell the pine trees.
Sometimes, squaring off against the elements for the shot can be worth the wait.
I sat on Exmouth beach as a storm front rolled in over the English Channel. The orange afternoon hues were soon extinguished by the choking, omnipresent clouds. Day was transformed to night as the wind suddenly picked up. Moments later, the heavens opened and I realised how exposed I was, sat alone on the stretch of sand.
Still getting used to mixing light levels between graduate ND filters and a Big Stopper. This was a 2 minute exposure on the Devonshire coastline, as the afterglow of the sunset dwindled just long enough to be captured on film. To the naked eye, the scene was almost devoid of colour, verging on the black and white.
Recently, after many failed attempts, I was fortunate enough to go on a balloon flight over Berkshire. The evening weather as perfect as the breeze pushed us eastwards, towards Henley. On the way, we flew over a verdant forest, where a horse and rider momentarily materialised from between the trees as they crossed the bisecting path beneath us.
Hard to imagine that you are only 25 miles from London at moments like this.