Ness Cove is one of Devon’s most secluded and picturesque beaches, completely enclosed by the shelter of the cliffs above. The secluded beach is tucked away, underneath the Ness Headland.
Access to the beach is through the intriguingly-named Smuggler’s Tunnel, which leads the visitor through the rocks of the Jurassic Cliffs out onto the beach. It is not clear whether the tunnel itself was ever used by smugglers however.
Exmouth beach, one of my favourite places to shoot, deep in the blue hour as the last remnants of the day concede to the inky blues and blacks of night time. This was well after sunset but the image of the moon almost perfectly aligned above the groyne gave this cool blue scene a sense of symmetry.
One morning looking out east across Badía de Pollença. This was a while ago, whilst in Majorca, when I was up before sunrise one summer’s day, watching the boat gently bobbing on the calm waters of the bay. Would love to be there right now, enjoying the warm air and stunning view.
Having had a succession of great weather days, the Scottish summer finally set in on my third day in the Isle of Harris and Lewis. I was up well before 4am and had been walking around the beach looking for a good spot to shoot from, without disturbing the sand. This shot was taken at just after 5am, just as I was about to give in. The rain had been gradually falling since dawn broke and I was sure that there would not be a decent image to capture under such circumstance. I am glad I persevered. The light in this picture is quite eerie but I like it.
Spent most of the last week in Gothenburg, so decided to capitalise on the great weather last Friday and went up to Klippan on the ferry. From there, I walked a couple of kilometres to a great vantage point where I watched the sun drop behind the horizon. Aside from the plethora of mosquitoes on hand, the experience was very serene, as only Sweden can be.
At the edge of the world is a place called the Salar de Uyuni, in the altiplano in Bolivia. It feels alien, set at over 4000m high in the Andes, close to the gods. With the exception of the cactus, it is bereft of life. This hostile, baron environment is one of my favourite places on earth. There is a brutal simplicity to existence here.
Following on from my last entry, this was taken a few minutes prior to the last shot (below) in Alcudia, Mallorca. Unfortunately, I was not well positioned for the sunrise, which was behind the head of the peninsula, to my left. The reason for this was main due to the fact that the westerly facing headland was several kilometres on the other side of a private golf course and I had no idea how long it would have taken me to walk there. Has anybody ever made this journey?
One thing that resonated with me the most about this particular dawn was the strength of the yellow in the sky. Singapore tends to be far more orange due to pollutants in the atmosphere.
I awoke well before dawn on my penultimate day in Mallorca this summer. I wanted the experience the serenity one finds at the birth of a new day, surrounded by nature. My home town of Singapore does have many green spaces but they are a patch of nature juxtaposed against the greyness of manmade objects. I was craving for the antithesis.
A yacht had moored the previous night and bobbed gently on the rising tide as the first light of day bathed the foreground in a rich golden light. The moon was cradled amongst the wisps of cloud as they glided silently across the sky overhead, travelling on the a light breeze, which rustled the branches ever so slightly.
I think this is going to be my go to calm place for this year.
Moon Valley in Chile, close to San Pedro de Atacama, very much lives up to its name. Trekking in the heat of the day at 4000m altitude, in the altiplano, literally took one’s breath away.
I took this shot in the mid afternoon, as the shadows of the canyon cast increasingly longer trails across the exposed spikes of the rock outcrops, akin to the vertebrae of the valley jutting out of the ground.