After trekking a few miles from a small car park at Huisinis, which itself was at the end of a long single track B road, I camped in a very isolated position, looking over at the Isle of Scarp.
The following morning, I awoke at 3.20am and walked a further 2 miles, to the end of the peninsula, to watch the majesty of the sun rising over the horizon in absolute solitude. The warm, golden light reflected on the rocks in front of me, silhouetting the distant mountains. This image was a long exposure (201 seconds) as I wanted to soften the choppy waters and elongate the few clouds on the horizon.
The waters around La Palma island are pretty rough. Not a location for beach swimming. Behind where I took this shot was a swimming pool hewn from the natural rocks and filled by the sea, called La Fajana. I took this shot, looking out to sea, from a platform about 4m about the surf. The occasional wave still managed to lap my feet the swell was that rough.
This shot was taken on La Palma, one of the Canary Islands, off the coast of West Africa. La Palma is often referred to as La Isla Bonita (beautiful island) and after spending a few days there, I can see why. This is from the beach closest to the hotel called Cancajos. This is a long exposure (150 second) shot of sunrise over the black, volcanic sand. The sun was finally breaking through the permanent band of cloud on the horizon, illuminating the jagged rocks on the shoreline.
Last weekend, the UK was battered with gale force winds and heavy rain. I headed down to Sidmouth in Devon to try and capture some of nature’s drama. The first shot was from a rock jetty by the sea. I used a Little Stopper, which caused an interesting colour cast in the image. The sea was a deep red from the churned up sea bed.
I move along the beach to grab this shot of the waves breaking against the concrete causeway. The evening sun was behind me but the clouds to the east reflected the evening glow, behind the crashing waves.
Whilst out one evening in Devon, I was walking along the Jurassic coastline when the light made me stop in my tracks. Using a Lee Filter Big Stopper, I softened the rolling waves into silky smooth wisps, lapping against the groyne.
As the light changed, the waves became ever more energetic. Soon, the pinky orange hues gave way to the grey blues post sunset, making the whole scene feel palpably colder.
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.
A perfect afternoon as I recall.
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.
Another early rise shot on Dawlish Warren. The clouds had meant the sunrise was not as spectacular as I had hoped, so I tried my Lee Big Stopper. This created the pleasant softening of the clouds and water. It also added a blue cast to the image, which I chose to preserve.
Second trip to the quayside in Lyme Regis in Dorset earlier this year to catch the morning light, which, as can be seen above, did not appear. It was, however, windswept, cold and rained, so a thoroughly rewarding experience nonetheless…