Photo: Abhainn Sgaladail, Isle of Harris, Outer Hebrides, Scotland. Jan 2012
Photo: Luskentyre beach, Isle of Harris, Outer Hebrides, Scotland. Jan 2012
Out of ten days, this was the only one that arrived with any potential for good light. A gale was screaming across the beach making conditions slightly less that Ideal, but I managed to wait around for two hours until the sun finally showed up. Every once in a while a big wave would come in and flow across the flat beach. I got my feet wet a few times while not paying attention. Almost got eaten by some horses on the way back to the car as well.
Photo: Horgabost beach, Isle of Harris, Outer Hebrides, Scotland. Jan 2012
I would have preferred to have been over on Luskentyre beach (towards the center of the image) but weather conditions weren’t especially cooperative. On the far right side of Horgabost there is a bit of shelter from a strong western gale so it was pretty much the only place where my tripod wouldn’t blow over…
Photo: Traigh Lar beach, Isle of Harris, Outer Hebrides, Scotland
Photo: Large winter waves crash into cliffs below lighthouse at Butt of Lewis, Isle of Lewis, Outer Hebrides, Scotland. Jan 2, 2012
After bringing in the new year on Berneray, we took the ferry to the isle of Harris and then drove north to the Butt of Lewis, the northern most point on the Outer Hebrides. The cliffs here are the first point of land reached by hundreds of miles of wind and waves coming from the north Atlantic. And in the gale force winds on early January 2012, the waves were pounding the cliffs with a fury and power that I normally only see in nature documentaries. While the waves can and do get bigger here, it was still quite an impressive sight and even there seemed to be a few locals turning up to checkout the show.
I tried my best to capture some images, but the combination of low light levels, high winds and my all too light tripod didn’t do much to help the situation. I couldn’t even let go of my camera or everything would blow over. I managed to find a few locations that wont overly affected by sea spay, but these weren’t always the most ideal views. If I were some cameraman a BBC documentary, it would have been one of those behind the scenes moments where they talk about extreme working conditions. I also found it difficult to show scale in the scene. I’d estimate the cliffs at about 40-45 ft in height. The lighthouse tower is 121 ft high, so that helps a bit in that image.
Photo: Watching waves crash into rocks at Butt of Lewis, Isle of Lewis, Outer Hebrides, Scotland. Jan 2, 2012
Jan 102012
Photo: Waves crash into coastal headlands at the Butt of Lewis, Isle of Lewis, Scotland. Jan 2, 2012
I woke up at 3:00 AM Monday morning to the sound of rain pattering against the car. It was my second night camping in Glencoe, a brief stopover on the way back south from a week on the Western Isles over the New Year. More rain I thought to myself. Endless Damned rain! Uggghhh. Sunrise would arrive in 5 hours, but I knew I would see nothing but a wet grey sky. So at that, I got in the drivers seat and headed into the darkness across Rannoch Moor to start the 8 hour drive back to Wales.
Now Scotland is not exactly a sunny country, but it turns out I decided to head north to catch the last days of the wettest December in a hundred years. And I have no doubt the trend was continuing right along into 2012 without stop. From December 31st on Berneray to the early days of January on the Isles of Lewis, Harris and across to Skye, a gale blew, non-stop, day and night, forever. I’m no stranger to bad weather, but usually there is some calm at some point. Not here, not for me. I never knew the wind could blow so much for so long. And it’s not as if I even caught the start of it, it has been blowing up there for weeks. It’s as if there is some hole in the atmosphere above Scotland and all the the earth’s air is escaping, though not prior to releasing an ocean’s worth of rain.
At times I could hardly walk. Sometimes hail fell so hard I though the car’s windshield would crack. Huge Atlantic swells battered the headlands at the Butt of Lewis, sending spray high into the air and seeming to make the ground shake with their power. There were even cancelations of the ferries to the islands, a rare thing. Though I’m sure a captain or two would have tried to take a boat across if he could. I think some of them must be born of the sea itself after hearing about some of their crossings.
So despite the conditions and feelings of frustration and failure, I did manage to find some fleeting moments to make some images. Maybe not the images I had in my mind, but a few decent ones none the less. And more reason to return again in the future. I’ll add more details and photos over the next days.
Photo: View over Sound of Harris, Berneray, Scotland.
For the New Year I’m heading up to Scotland and out to the Western Isles. I’ll spend New Year’s eve at the cool little hostel on the island of Berneray, where I had good time last year. The rest of the week I’ll be out and about on North/South Uist, taking in the epic beaches of south Harris and exploring the historic sites of Lewis.
–CLICK HERE– For images from last year.
Photo: Sunset over North Uist, Berneray, Scotland.
Photo: Luskentyre beach, Isle of Harris, Scotland.
Photo: Incoming tide, Isle of Harris, Scotland.
Dec 282011
Photo: Lenticular cloud over Sierra Nevada Mountains. April 2011
The last night of a 10 day road trip through the southwest and my favourite photo from the whole trip. A lone lenticular cloud which had provided some decent color at sunset remained in the sky over the Alabama hills and Sierra Nevada mountains. A near full moon for
illumination of the foreground and a 2 minute exposure gives a ghostly appearance to the cloud.
My 10 best images from 2011. Well, maybe ‘best’ is not the correct word and ‘favourite’ would be more appropriate. I thought about repeating last year’s ‘best from each month’ concept, but it wouldn’t have worked very well for this year. For the most part I was largely directionless for extended periods of time, with the whole of the spring/summer basically a black hole for me photographically. For the year overall there were some brief moments of productivity, but most of the time I was failing to achieve my goals visually. I don’t really feel I grew at all photographically or found myself pushing my boundaries visually. Much of the time I was struggling to even repeat images/ideas that I had made in the past, much less expand my vision and style forwards. Hopefully 2012 provides more fertile ground as this last year seems mostly a waste to me. Barely being able to tread water, much less chase my dreams.
Photo: Clearing winter storm over Black Cuillins, Isle of Skye, Scotland. January 2011
Returning from New Year out on Scotland’s Outer Hebrides I decided to stay the night on the Isle of Skye. As I awoke to heavy clouds and a light falling snow my hopes of sunrise diminished. Sitting patiently and looking at the clock, I waited an hour to see if conditions would improve before continuing on the long journey south. Just as I was about to start the car I noticed a bit of contrast in the sky. I had dreamed of a ‘Skye in snow’ image for years and this was my first chance. While it can definitely be improved upon, I still am glad for the opportunity.
Photo: Callanish standing stones, Isle of Lewis, Scotland. January 2011
I’m fascinated by standing stones. This was my second visit to Callanish in as many months. The rain held off into the night allowing me a bit of time to play around with some lighting of the stones. I think this image helps show a bit of scale and how large the stones actually are.
Photo: Coastal rocks, Butt of Lewis, Isle of Lewis, Scotland. January 2011
Winds and heaves seas battered this most northerly part of the Isle of Lewis. Rain showers were sweeping across the headlands with only brief interludes as the short winter day transitioned into night. Beyond these rocks is 500 miles of the cold north Atlantic before one reaches Iceland. Truly a feeling of being at the end of the world, or perhaps just Scotland.
Photo: Bandon Beach, Oregon. August 2011
With a 13 hour drive back home to California I struggled with the decision to get out of bed in the early morning hours or not. I couldn’t see the sky from my campground, but I went ahead and made the 30 minute drive down the coast to Bandon. I arrived to the sound the fog horn blasting into the morning darkness and the roaring of waves against the coast. On the beach conditions were better than I could have expected. Low tide and a calm wind, perfect for Bandon. As the morning progressed a bit of color arrived before the dawn. I was utterly exhausted by the time I got home late that night, but thankful for it.
Photo: Bright Angel trail and snow, Grand Canyon. April 2011
It had been a last minute decision to head to the Grand Canyon. Arriving in early evening to a foot of fresh snow on the ground and the possibility of the closure of all national parks due to the failure of the govt. to pass a budget I wasn’t really sure it was worth it. Awaking the next day to a snow covered campsite and gray skies, I went out exploring a bit. I hadn’t been to the GC in 10 years and finding my way around snow covered roads took a bit of extra effort. At some point in the morning the storm began to clear and I found my way to the upper section of the Bright Angel trail. I like the contrast of snow and desert in this image, a sight I don’t see too often.
Photo: Dark skies over Vestfjord, Stamsund, Lofoten Islands, Norway. October 2011
This is one of my favourite view points while staying in Stamsund. Not because it’s the most spectacular view in the world, but because it’s a place I can return to again and again and always see something new. I can watch the spring sunrise from here. I can see the autumn’s first snow or (as in the next photo) the sky filled with the Northern Lights. The sea can be rough and white capped with mist filling the air or as still as a pond. This view reflects the moods and temperament of the Islands.
Photo: Northern Lights over Vestfjord, Stamsund, Lofoten Islands, Norway. October 2011
The last night (beginning to see a trend here) of two weeks on the Lofoten Islands. The perfect conspiracy of conditions for the best Northern Lights I’ve ever seen. I wish I had had a wider lens to show more of the sky, as it was completely filled with light, dancing and swaying from second to second.
Photo: Utakleiv, Lofoten Islands, Norway. October 2011
It was another one of my stormy days at Utakleiv. The tied seemed particularly low this day and I wandered out on the slippery rocks towards the edge of the sea. My attention was focused towards my feet as the rain forced me to keep my lens pointing downwards. I came across this scene of one rock burrowed into another. The work of a 100 years of waves.
Photo: Frankenjura bouldering, Germany. November 2011
Towards the end of November I found myself back among the old familiar rocks of the Frankenjura region. Dark and misty forests, cold temperatures and short days. Not the most ideal climbing conditions, but so it goes. A bit of off-camera flash in the middle of a dyno to the next hold gives a bit of depth to the image.
Aug 082011
Photo: White sand beach and view across Sound of Harris, Berneray, Outer Hebrides, Scotland
Berneray is the newest edition to my very short list of favorite places, places that I can just get lost in. I spent a few days there of blasting gales in October last year and returned again to bring in the new year. The wonderful small little hostel only feet away from the waters edge on the north of the island is my chosen abode. Run by the Gatliff Trust, the hostel is an old croft house. Rustic and homely, white washed stone walls and a thatch roof; the way a place must be on a lonely island out on the edge of the world. The heat comes from a coal stove and one end of the room as the sound of rain patters against the small windows and the howling of wind creeps under the old wooden door. Lights and candles burn late into the winter nights as strangers sit around sharing meals and stories, perhaps also a splash of two of Scotch.
As with most places in the part of the world, photography is more a game of patience than anything. It’s a good time to slow down from the fast pace of life, maybe not check those emails for a week or two, it’s not gonna kill you. All these photos are taken no more than 3-4 minutes walk from the front door.
Photo: North Harris silhouetted against the days last light
Photo: Calm waters and blue skies, just before the rain
Photo: Dunes blow in the wind as rain approaches over the Sound of Harris
Photo: An elusive sun lights up the dunes, mountains of South Harris rise in the distance
Photo: Abandoned croft at twilight
Photo: Winter view towards Glamaig – Sgurr Mhairi and Red Cuillin hills, Sligachan, Isle of Skye, Scotland. Jan 2011
Some years back I was making my way down Glamaig, back towards Sligachan to hitch a ride back to Portree. I’m not sure if I was on a people trail or a sheep trail, the latter I think, when I came upon some more-than-normal-looking boggy section. After a quick estimate, I set myself up to jump across most of it, figuring I’d end up a little above my ankle in mud, but would otherwise avoid too much of a mess. Ha! I ended up nearly to my waste as my leg plunged into the bog. My momentum, and the unexpected depth of my step took me flying into the ground on the other side of the pit. Quite lucky really, as I could have ended up totally submerged. Once back at Sligachan, I was left to wash off as best I could in the river before attempting to catch a ride up to Portree. Luckily it was getting near dark so my true state couldn’t be seen and a ride came along after not too long.
