At the end of my time in Cornwall and Devon this summer, I drove to a place called Sandymouth, a few miles north of Bude in north east Cornwall. The beach is a photographer’s Mecca, with rocks, sand, cliffs and westerly facing, so fantastic for end of day shots.
The tide was very high the day I visited and I would like to return when it has receded further, exposing more rocks and some sand.
Taken a couple of weeks ago at Bantham Bay in Devon, the tide was receding, which allowed me to chase the water line without worrying about my footsteps. Unfortunately, there were no crashing waves on the rocks in the foreground.
As the light faded from golden hour to the blue hour, I took the shot below. The rocks on the right were already beginning to reflect some of the light from the rising full moon.
Whilst in Cornwall, I visited a lovely little beach called Spit beach Par, just to the west of St Austell. To the right of where the footpath arrives at the beach, is a lovely expanse of sand. However, to the left, is this interesting, rocky area.
The evening when I was there, a local camera group were out in force, which did not surprise me as it was a great spot. The time of year to shoot the beach would probably be in the winter, when the setting sun would be more out to sea instead of over the land, as you can see in the image below.
Part of a selection of work from our recent family holiday down in Cornwall and Devon. This one is of St Michael’s Mount at dusk. The tide was high and the mosquitoes were out in force, so I was glad to find a decent vantage point.
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.