Shot from a few years ago down in Devon. Jagged rocks and low summer sun. This was before the tide rushed in a soaked me if I recall. These days, I am better prepared. Wellington boots are a far better choice for beach photography than trainers…
The moody weather seemed very suited to the scene at Bosta beach. In the back ground, the Time and Tide Bell, by Marcus Vergette is visible. This is one of up to twelve installations around the UK, created to reinforce connections between man’s influence on the landscape and its effect on the rising sea levels. Effectively, the bell will stop tolling when the sea level rises to a certain point.
The day had been a mixture of rain and clouds. For landscape photography, this can either mean a really interesting cocktail of factors or a nightmare in the making. Alas, the rain had meant that the morning had been a write off. I travelled the length of the north coast of the Isle of Lewis without finding the right ingredients for a memorable image.
After scrutinising a map, I noticed an interesting coastline option that meant transversing a local farmer’s land. With no one around to ask for permission, I trekked the 2km to the beach and found the stormy, isolate image above. This image is a 100 second exposure using a 10 stop ND filter. The long exposure robbed the photograph of some of the colour. To counter this, I put my longer prime lens on my camera and took a 2 second shot of a section of the same scene.
This is a curious shot of an end of day scene in the Outer Hebrides where the setting sunlight was caught in the clouds at the centre of the scene, creating a dual light source. This state lasted for an hour. I can truthfully say I have never seen something like this before. I had trekking a few miles into the middle of nowhere, to free camp for the night. My tent was about 2-3km from where I took this shot. There was absolutely no one around for miles, making this scene all the more eerie.
Earlier this year, I had the good fortune to spend a week in the Outer Hebrides, on the Isle of Harris and Lewis. This was taken on day one, very soon after I arrived at Huisinis. The clouds were just beginning to shift as the wind picked up. I was standing completely alone in this stunning landscape, with only flies and cattle to share the moment with.
This week was my final regular work trip out to Sweden, so I wanted to grab some images of the country whilst I still had the chance. Marstrand in the Gothenburg archipelagos was recommended as a great local site. This shot was taken on the far side of Arvidsvik Island, by one of the island’s several lighthouses, looking out west to the North Sea.
Last shot in the sequence from the previous weekend in Devon. An interesting outcrop of rocks, jutting into the sea, replete with seaweed on the Jurassic coast. This shot was taken facing south, with the sun setting 90 degrees to my right. The gentle evening colours were caught in the lower clouds on the horizon.
Stormy weather ahead.
The last vestiges of light were visible in the opalescent sky. Shortly after this shot was taken, the heavens opened and the rain did not stop for the next two days.
Believe it or not, this was taken on a very popular beach in Devon, just at a very unpopular time (i.e. moments before a torrential rain storm). Definitely worth it!
High on the altiplano between Bolivia, Chile and Argentina, the sky is an impossibly deep blue. The car pulling up was my driver, who played a prank and drove off when I was talking too many photos. It gave the scene a sense of scale, which was perfect. I ended up asking him to do this a few times over the 4 day trip, much to his bemusement.