On the edge

Landscape photographers seem to love to go out to places that are inherently hazardous and they often compound this by going at odd times of day and in unpredictable weather. I know I do. I want to experience the edges of the light and the landscape, and the risk just goes with the territory.

For this reason I was quite interested and surprised to stumble across this discussion about “edges” on a blog that I subscribe to.
http://www.brucepercy.com/blog/?p=1027

Although my fascination with this idea comes out in a few of my blog posts, I’ve never read Niall Benvie’s essay before. It seems that a lot of us arrive at this concept independently.

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Chasing rainbows

Stormy morning above the Clywedog reservoir

Stormy morning above the Clywedog reservoir

Ffrwd Fawr waterfall

Ffrwd Fawr, the following morning

The mountains of Wales are justly infamous as one of the wetter parts of Britain and—according to Wikipedia—Europe. Having spent a couple of weeks in Norway when I was 17, I’m not at all convinced, but it’s true that the moorland plateaus of Mid Wales see rain on over 200 days of the year, with some of the upland catchments experiencing 2500mm annually.

I’m rarely keen on photographing the Mid Wales landscape in fine weather. To me, it seems conceptually wrong: there has always been a wild side to these uplands and I feel it is an essential part of their character. Capturing the drama of the landscape is an important part of my colour work, and I am fascinated by fleeting moments of light or an elusive combination of elements in the landscape. In many ways, rainbows are the embodiment of this concept and I love to photograph them when I get the chance.

Part of what excites me about landscape photography is the uncertainty. Some of what I feel are my best landscape images were not preconceived, rather they came about as a response to the scene in front of me at the time. It is these images, the products of unrepeatable moments, that I feel are the ones that are truly personal to me.

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The end of summer

Nant y Dernol, late summer

Well, summer seems to have blasted past what with one thing and another. I’ve been pretty busy, seeing friends and family, and—after watching this tutorial—embarking on a surprisingly time consuming project to improve the keywording of my image catalogue. Hardly exciting, I know, but it needed to be done.

Photographically speaking, summer isn’t always very productive for me, and this year I’ve done very little in the way of serious photography since June. So the accompanying image here comes from a few years back.

I hiked across from the neighbouring valley to take this shot, looking over Nant y Dernol on a hot afternoon in mid August, and I think I timed it quite well with the bracken just starting to turn. Although that afternoon felt like the height of summer, the following evening was colder somehow, with a crystal clarity to the light. I knew then that autumn was on its way. It often surprises me just how quickly the seasons can change, particularly at this time of year when the nights start to draw in rapidly.

Some people hate the dark nights but I’ve never been bothered by them. Something I’ve learned as a landscape photographer, which was also reinforced to me above Nant y Dernol that afternoon, is to make the most of every time of year. The next change is always around the corner.

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Sunken lane

The lane at Kingswood
I first discovered this lane a few years back, ablaze in the evening sun, its verges of cow parsley and red campion in ragged pools of light. I was quite impressed with it and I’ve been back a few times since.

The left bank of the lane is actually part of Offa’s Dyke, and is mentioned in Jim Saunders‘ book Offa’s Dyke: A Journey in Words and Pictures—well worth a look for its excellent photography. The road itself is older and forms part of the Roman road up Long Mountain, eventually leading to the Roman ruins at Wroxeter where, in the nearby field, I landed in a hot air balloon around this time last year.

This time of year often marks something of an end to my photography. As summer approaches, the leaves turn darker and the light loses some of its attractive quality. As if this wasn’t enough, the uplands are plagued by midges, the roads choke with traffic, and holiday cottages become prohibitively expensive as the schools break up.

But I don’t want to think about any of that. In the meantime there is nothing better than this lane, fading in the flaxen light of a late spring evening. Bats hunt beneath the trees as I head back to the car, and a silence descends.

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I guess I’m a Romantic at heart

I’m in the Lake District at the moment and the weather is decidedly un-May-like, generally made up of uninspiring light interspersed between rain showers. Maybe not ideal conditions for landscape photography, but this got me thinking about these “ideal” conditions and what we mean by this.

I often feel that many landscape photographers are preoccupied with calm conditions and “golden hour” light, to the exclusion of anything else. There are so many images of colourful sunrises and mountains reflected in lakes. This isn’t the nature I know. The nature I love is dark, exciting, wild and just a little bit untamed.

Grains Gill, Cumbria

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