As you travel along the single track road that meanders across the Dava Moor, and rounding a bend on a brow of a hill you get the first glimpse of Lochindorb. A silvery-grey oasis high up on the moor and to add to the drama, a ruined castle nestles on its own wee island in the middle. How Scottish, atmospheric and fairytale-like can you get?

During the Summer Holidays, a load of us would cycle up here and muck about.  Lochindorb, “Loch of Trouble” in Gaelic, seems quite an apt  name for the Loch at times with the stuff we used to get up to!

As we got older, we used to camp out along its shores (some even within the stone walls of castle), got eaten by midgies, and laughed whilst drinking beers or cider.  We had so many laughs over the years here – these were more uncomplicated times, pressures of life far off in the distance, and all that mattered was when the next laugh was going to come. 

I remember wondering what these boulders were for and, through the years, I didn’t really care enough to find out. They just looked interesting in this desolate setting high up on the Dava Moor. At one time, I considered ,maybe, they were connected somehow with the Castle in the middle of the expansive waters of the loch like some remnants of a mystical causeway. I could imagine the sight of the Wolf of Badenoch and his army riding out over it to their security of the Castle’s stone walls after a raid or something.  Who knew they were for fishing from!

Then there’s the skies………

The skies here are so vast overhead and, at night, those stars………oh, the stars! I don’t think I’ve seen so many other than from this place. So bright and numerous, even the constellations are lost in the show. Those skies have to be witnessed and savoured. If that’s not enough, it’s also an amazing spot to see the Northern Lights from when it decides to show and dance for us.

So many memories, so many laughs, so many good times.

It took me a long time to get this image. No matter how often I’d visit, something wasn’t quite right. I couldn’t do it justice – there’s a certain light, a calmness, a depth that only the right emotion can be reached. How do you capture that within a frame of a flat surface?

A few years of persistence and hundreds of captures later, I finally caught one. A long exposure to calm the waters to allow the echoes of laughter to be heard, the tones of Black & White for me to colour  in with those memories from what seemed like never ending Summer Holidays, and those Boulders somehow anchoring me to this place. 

I named it “A Prehistoric Land” as it looked like it was a strange, otherworldly landscape. The boulders disappearing into a Scottish Loch’s waters like a skeleton of long dead prehistoric beast – maybe a distant cousin of a dweller of a not-so-far Loch?

Lochindorb and the Dava have a special place in my life. Like Findhorn Beach, it has witnessed so much of my experiences and history that it triggers a feeling of “Home” within me. Now that I’m going to be living nearby, I’ll get to feel that in a way it brings me comfort and connection again. 

I suppose we all look for that in our lives at one time or another.

The Craft

As the story goes, this capture took me years to achieve. Conditions, light, weather…..you name it, it didn’t work for what I wanted. The stupid thing was that I didn’t really know what I wanted either. 

A late friend of mine used to say that “Photography was like Fishing. You need to keep visiting places and casting as you don’t know what you may catch sometimes.” This is certainly true in this instance. 

It was one of those flattish, grey days where the Sun struggled to break through the heavy clouds the seemed to hang over the moor. I wasn’t very hopeful in getting very much out of the day but I don’t go out to these places just for the photography. 

I drove past this spot and something clicked. Setting up the tripod was done in record time and began to frame the scene. The Boulders were an obvious leading line and needed to be the central focus for the symmetry. 

It was the brighter area on the horizon that made the scene for me, so it needed to be handled delicately in the exposure. The waters of Lochindorb were quite choppy as well, so the decision was to use my ND10 filter for the long exposure, which meant I really needed my 0.6 ND grad for the upper part of the frame.

I think I took about twenty different captures in various different settings and compositions. As usual though, this was the first one that I took.

I knew I’d bagged what I’d been looking for when I eagerly peered at the feedback rear screen of the camera. I can remember that mix of excitement, nervousness, and impatience as I drove home with my precious spoils on the back seat.

The digital developing was, as usual, minimal – a bit cleaning up of dust spots here and there, quick adjustment in Curves and Levels to give slightly more contrast and depth, and then the I processed for Black & White. A wee bit of Unsharp Mask to define it better. Finished.

I can remember, as if it was this morning, sitting back in my chair and realising I’d captured what I had been searching for all those years. 

Exif:

Camera: Canon EOS 5D Mk2 Lens: Canon EF 17-40mm f/4L USM F-stop: f/14

Shutter Speed: 70 seconds ISO: 100 Filters: Lee 10-Stop, 0.6 ND Grad, Circular Polariser

Where I Stood (Click on the icon below you prefer to use)

I closed my eyes, the high Summer’s Sun was scorching my face and I felt the warmth of the wood on my back as we sat enjoying the holidays. Suddenly, the Sun disappeared and I reactively opened my eyes again. Sitting in front of me, with her face barely two inches from mine, was the girl with the most stunningly wide hazel eyes and long golden brown hair. Her smile was more radiant than the Sun that she had replaced.

I remember thinking that she was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen and all I could do was smile back.

It was then she kissed me.

This was my first kiss.

Her name was Dawn and was staying on holiday at the nearby caravan site for a couple of weeks. During that time, we were inseparable and met at the Beach Hut nearly everyday. Eventually, she had to go home to somewhere in England and I never saw her again.

My first love as well as that kiss. I still feel that kiss and, although I was only twelve at the time, the pain of her leaving lingers achingly with me, even today.

Strange how things stay with you.

Another memory is that of my best friend, Gary (who, incidentally, was incredibly jealous that Dawn liked me instead of him), and he used to hide his stash of cigarettes deep under the huts platform. I can still see him there with his head back laughing at one of his usual stupid jokes and wind ups, then exhaling large clouds of smoke into the air like an industrial Cooling Tower.

This Beach Hut was a meeting place for most of us kids in Findhorn whilst I lived there. The surrounding Dunes and Beach was simply our playground. At the time, my world seemed to evolve around this weathered, wooden hut.

Years later when I started my Photography, I was compelled to go back and capture an image of this Beach Hut in reverence to all those memories and, in some ways, to Dawn. This image was the result of that visit, a memento of being back to my centre of my world as it was way back then. I know it’s not perfect and there’s been plenty of folk ripping it shreds for various technicals, etc., but……….

Another twist to this story is I went back a couple of months later to find that it was gone. It is enough to say that I wept for days afterwards – probably more so than I did for Dawn as she disappeared around the corner at “The Bunty” (the villages summertime Chippy at the time).

The small clearing on which the Hut sat has now long since been reclaimed by the Dunes and grass, leaving no trace it had ever existed. I suppose, this image is some sort of historical record for so many reasons.

Personally, I love the tones and contrasts within this image. The textures of the grass still reach to me in a way that I can both feel the sharpness of its touch and detect a faint Coconut-like scent of the nearby Gorse bushes in flower on the sea breeze. All of these things are woven into my memories of my childhood in and around Findhorn – almost idyllic.

This is certainly one of my favourite images, simply because of the memories that are captured within its frame. I still look at the whiteness of the Hut’s wall and think of both Dawn and Gary. Dawn’s face appears in front of me again and that kiss still lingers on my lips – wondering where she is now? What sort of life has she had? Hoping she is happy and loved.

Gary is another story and is tinged with sadness as he is no longer with us after a car accident when he was nineteen. Glad he was in my life and for the laughs we shared, even though it was cut far too short.

Finally and to be clear, it is with a smile on my face that when I gaze up at this image on my wall. The memories are far more uplifting for me and that vivid vision of those wonderfully beautiful wide hazel eyes are still so life-affirming to me that they can bring light to a dark day, even after all these years. Then, there’s the laughter, Gary’s stupid jokes, and the crazier things we used to get up to that he brought into my life. An amazingly, golden time that is one of those that burns brightest in my history. I look at it now and feel the smile instantly bring warmth to my face as well as that moment.

The power of Photography.

This is a story of how an image changed my life. From a glimpse in the rear-view mirror to something that keeps on giving.

I was driving up to the Lighthouse when I glimpsed in my rear-view mirror. The brakes went on then I reversed to the access track that led down to the stone building on the cliff’s edge.

I opened the car door, instantly my breath was taken away by the biting, the “Hurricane” of a wind that cut through unabated – even through me. The air was filled with spray and you could taste it being heavy with salt. The view was, in itself, breath-taking as the huge waves were rolling in licking at the top of the coastline’s cliffs and, as they did, the air vibrated with such a roar that gave you that sense of being just a bystander watching a powerful show playing out in front of you. A real “You are here” moment pointing to where we are in the Universe.

This was Christmas Day, 2004. The next day the devastating Indian Tsunami hit with around 230,000 lives were lost.

When the news came through, I remembered the day before and the power of those waves hitting the cliffs relentlessly with such force. I couldn’t even visualise the devastation such that such power could do and, every time I look at this image, it serves as a reminder to me of my place on this blue marble and those no longer here.

Yes, it still hits me that hard.

As with most things, that isn’t the end of the journey.

This photo inspired my Black & White passion and to share the stories through what I see. It showed me an extraordinary way to put across the emotion of the moment and allow the viewer to colour in for themselves with their own experiences and choices.

It was also the first photograph that I entered for a competition (not something I do really – it was an impulse thing!). I put some of my earlier work, including “White Horses At Ness” into the prestigious “Take-A-View” Landscape Photographer of the Year one year. I think I’d forgotten all about it until an email arrived I had been short-listed to the next stage and then, was a finalist. Of course, it wasn’t first place but it did give me a place in the annual book and at the exhibition for a month or two in the foyer of the National Theatre in London – there was even an opening night to attend!

The Opening Night was an experience in itself and wasn’t something to be missed. It was one of the first times that I had actually seen my photographs on a wall – quite emotional. So many amazing images on show and not end of inspiration to be had of other folk that I dared to think of my peers.

The icing was witnessing this photograph and my name under it being projected on the front of the building so that everyone travelling along the Embankment and the Thames could see it. Looking back on it, it was so surreal and almost felt that it was another life. So much so, it inspired me to enter future photographs with mixed success: two further finalist and multiple short-listings. At least, the experience allowed me to relive Opening Nights again so I could pinch myself a couple more times.

Within this simple frame, it holds all the senses of that moment it was taken, the memory of a tragedy, a start of a passion, and a story of inspiration. Most of all, it shows the apparent benign beauty of the interaction of the sea and land for the viewer to “colour in” and enjoy.

Exif:

Camera: Canon EOS 300D Lens: Canon EF 70-300mm IS USM F-stop: f/8

Shutter Speed: 1/125 second ISO: 100 Filters: None

Where I Stood (Click on the icon below you prefer to use)

At first look, the story behind this image may seem obvious to you. An “X” marking something in the sea like an end of a rainbow. Maybe marking some buried treasure or a WWII tank (yes, there is one out there somewhere beneath the waves classed as a War Memorial) from a failed landing. An “X” in an ethereal setting to portray a moody seascape in some foreboding way as if a storm was brewing, or in an otherworldly time possibly. Who knows? That’s why Ansel Adams quoted: “There’s always two people in every photograph: the Photographer and the Viewer”.

Maybe. I don’t know. This is the beauty of a picture and how it is interpreted by whoever cares to view it. I can only give you my view, as the Photographer, and the craft behind the image.

The “X”, for me, is the spot where I pressed the shutter. Pure and not so simple.

This is the spot where I have gone to so many times over the course of my life and have continued to do so for many reasons. I grew up here. Spent so many hours playing and meeting up with friends here. I had my first kiss here (well, near here – another story for another image). I have grieved here. Fallen in love here. Lost and found myself here. So many memories and experiences………it is my spot.

I still go back to this spot on the beach at Findhorn when I need to find some clarity in my life. If it is important, I sit here. It helps most of the time and others….well, it gives me a sort of quietness to help reset and declutter. Listening to the sounds of the waves and looking out over the sea to the northern lands is sort of a comforting, familiar feeling that leads me back to “home”. It’s my “0,0,0,0” in a “Sheldonian” way – hence, “my Spot”.

The long exposure in the frame of the image, for me, represents the timeless feeling that I get from sitting there for hours sometimes. Watching the weather blow through and the waves relentlessly rattling the pebbles along the beach against the Groyne in its never-ending battle of long shore drift. A soundtrack to so many memories.

So much so that it is one of the few images that I have hung on my wall. A memento representing so many memories, conversations, laughter, tears, and experiences. How can you pack so much within its frame?

“X” marks the spot.

Exif:

Camera: Canon EOS 5D Mk2 Lens: Canon EF 17-40mm USM F-stop: f/14

Shutter Speed: 12 seconds ISO: 100 Filters: Lee 10-Stop, Circular Polariser

Where I Stood (Click on the icon below you prefer to use)

This is the first post of my blog and if you haven’t done this sort of thing before, it is quite difficult to know where to start, how to come across, what tone you should set, etc. So with that in mind, I though I would elaborate on my “About” narrative so you can really understand what I’m about and what this blog is meant to convey, just to get this rolling.

In my “About” page, I do write about the “Have you ever……” moments. These are those moments that will live with you forever and you look back, sometimes with perfect spin on them, with such a longing that makes you wish you were there again.

For me, Photography can do that – sort of like a time machine. Virtually, all of my images are like anchors to a moment in my life and when I look at them, I can almost feel the emotions, the sensations and time at which that “click” took place.

So here is an image that I can share that is so powerful in my mind as a wee taster for things to come in this blog.

Isle Of Lewis – White Horses At Ness

Every time I look at this image I can hear the waves, feel the power as they pound the cliffs, almost feel the spray on my face, I get a wee chill as I can remember with such clarity how cold it was (it was really cold!) and how much I was captivated by this scene. Think I must have holding my breath for a while in the presence of such a force of nature playing out before me.

I was struggling to stand as I was  being buffeted by the strong winds that whistling in from the north. So exposed here at the top of the Isle Of Lewis, as point called “Rubha Robhanais”, which translates from gaelic, as the slightly less romantic, Butt Of Lewis. It was when the sun peeked through the rushing clouds overhead did the scene come alive. The spray is the air caught the light so wonderfully and those White Horses were picked up majestically as they foamed and charged into that rugged and battered coastline.

It was just an instant as the sun disappeared again and the scene, even though just a unforgiving, had lost that ineffable quality.

One of those scenes that I could wait to get back to the place I was staying to see what I had and, being early in my photographic journey, wanted to share this wee gift with whoever cared to view it.

Also, in my mind that was very poignant, was that this was taken on Christmas Day in 2005 – the day before the Tsumani hit across the Indian Ocean region. Always anchors me to that time too and is a reminder of the power of nature that we sometimes are quite complacent about.

So first blog post done and hope you get what I’m trying to do here.

Enjoy!