Home is where the heart is but your heart had to roam. Drifting over bridges never to return.
The road to Luskentyre.
Taransay at sunset.
Rock pools, Luskentyre.
Inquisitive flock at dawn.
Fear is dark but my love is a lantern shining up like coins in a fountain.
Hey Bruce, untie my noose.
The Sound of Taransay.
Theres a sad old sea but my love is an island. Wild and free like the hills in the highlands.
Teardrops just keep falling. My heart just keeps calling. Love. Will bring us back together. Forever.
Sing me something new. Dont you know. The cold and wind and rain dont know. They only seem to come and go away.
Hey you, we just got this started. You cant end this now.
I want to tell you a story. The only way that I can. I am just replacing a man that came before me. One day the world is going to see another man replacing me. Thats just the way its got to be.
Everything is open. Nothing is set in stone. Rivers turn to ocean. Oceans tide you home.
Forth road and railway bridges, Queensferry, Fife, West Lothian, Scotland, UK
Gylen Castle on Kerrera, Scotland.
Hutcheson's Monument on the Isle of Kerrera at sunset.
Eilean Musdile lighthouse on Lismore.
Prints from £29.
Point Lynas Lighthouse, Llaneilian, Anglesey, Wales.
I love making photographs by the sea. There's something that focuses the mind that I don't find anywhere else. Something to do with the tranquility of the surroundings juxtaposed with the audio bombardment of the sea as it pounds the rocks relentlessly or the sound of waves gently lapping on the sandy beach as though it were caressing it with a gentle kiss time after time. On a beach or shoreline, the sound of the sea and the wind combined can make one feel completely alone even in a throng of others, forced into one's own inner mind and contemplate one's own insignificance faced with such an almighty force.
A long exposure of the sun setting over Rhosneigr beach with rocks in the foreground.
Made one cold February evening on the beach at the foot of the holiday home we regularly use in Anglesey whilst my wife and brother-in-law cooked up a storm. Roast beef with all the trimmings for 10 hungry mouths if I recall. The conditions were near perfect though the tide was so far out that I did struggle to find a composition that I was happy with. The conditions were changing so quickly that I found myself getting really rather worked up at my inability to find a good photograph. Eventually, and only just in the nick of time, I settled on this one. Which was just as well because within mere minutes of making this, the light had gone and the sky had lost all of its colour.
I love lighthouses. They’re generally in such remote spots that peace and quiet are a given. Neist Point is no different. Access to the lighthouse itself is a climb down a steep flight of steps, a rather hairy descent in a stiff wind. Far easier though often much squelchier to climb up to the vantage point at the top of the hill where you can shoot down on it and get the whole of the peninsula in the shot with the lighthouse at the very far end. This particular morning, the wind was blowing hard from behind me. I shuffled down the hillside a few feet to try and get out of the wind a little and avoid being blown into the North Sea several hundred feet below and waited for the sun to appear, whilst desperately trying not to sit in sheep sh*t.
Brunnhorn & Vesturhorn.
The scenery on Iceland is absolutely spectacular and there are more waterfalls than you can shake a stick at. As a famous photographer once said (I forget who. It might’ve been Jim Richardson) “If you want to take better pictures, stand in front of better stuff”. So here I was in front of some jaw-droppingly beautiful stuff and snapping away to my heart’s content. This particular excursion to Vesturhorn was notable because the wind and rain had finally subsided for a few hours. The jet black sand was unlike anything I have ever seen before and whilst I waited and waited for the cloud over the mountains to shift and reveal the peaks, it became quite apparent that it just wasn’t going to happen.
The Sun Voyager scultpure at sunrise in Rekyavik