During a walk through the Rothiemurchus Forest around Loch an Eileen the pine woods gave way to a dense area of moss covered silver birch. The lingering mist lent a rather pleasing soft light to the scene.

Plans to get up a Munroe in the Cairngorm Mountains at the end of September were sadly abandoned due to the fact we couldn’t see much more than 50m in front of us! Not possessing the right equipment for the conditions (you never take your chances on the mountains!) it was settled a walk in the Rothiemurchus Forest would be the alternative ‘Plan B’. As it turned out this revealed some remarkable and fascinating areas that more than made up for the lack of altitude fun and games. This part of the forest (pictures) was entirely pine trees with the old and twisted ones combining with the slowly dissipating mist creating a wild edge to the scene. The dash of colour along the floor seems to balance it.

A break away from the landscape view to one of a more intimate nature. Ardnamurchan forms the northern edge of Loch Sunart, along the shoreline can be found great swaths of seaweed clinging to dark rocks beneath. What struck me was the intense yellow colour it had, especially notable on a gloomy day. By chance a patch of blue sky opened up directly above me and I quickly set up to create this image of the contrasting colours and layers as they appeared before me. Despite the frenetic placement of the seaweed there’s something calming about the way they’re held in place by the water…

After the wander along the shore I found myself in another dense woodland, discovering this little gem quietly eking out its life in the crook of a heavily coated tree’s branch, it certainly pays to take it slowly and look carefully at what’s around

When I set out towards the tip of Ardnamurchan Peninsular, often described as the most westerly point on the British mainland (though Corrachadh Mòr which lies to the south inches out a little bit further apparently), a glance at the weather report led me to believe I was in for an evening of light winds, bright conditions and a ‘little’ cloud cover. It ticked all the right boxes promising for some atmosphere and potentially good light to create the image I had in mind. After an hour of perilously tight and twisting single-track roads, I realised the forecasters were optimistic in their descriptions. A blanket of grey cloud overhead blocked any sun and a strong wind meant standing up involved leaning into it at a comical angle! I briefly considered my options and rather than head home with the thought of a wasted trip hanging over my head I watched the fast moving clouds, hoping for a glimmer of light in the dying moments of the day. Waves pounded the rocks below me as I looked north eastwards to Eilean Carrach with Portuairk and Sanna Bay out of view beyond. Looking out to sea, dark clouds roiling off the coast all but obscured the Isle of Coll, Isle of Muck and Isle of Rum beyond it was certainly building into a dramatic display.

If conditions are right, as the sun dips beneath the clouds before falling below the horizon, the photographer is afforded the most spectacular light with which to illuminate a subject whilst retaining a potentially moody sky around it. You may even get some light reflected on the underside of distant clouds, depending on their altitude, as the sun dips below the horizon adding a further dimension to your images. Unfortunately, with stormy seas to the west, the clouds on this particular day stretched to the horizon and possibly beyond, with sufficient density to mean the sun would probably not be making an appearance any time soon. One final factor remained to my advantage though; strong winds. I was in luck as a large hole developed lending a touch of soft light to the scene. I stepped out of my shelter from behind some rocks and got to work creating the shot. Light produces colour from the objects it reflects off, in its relative absence I chose a longer shutter speed to collect what light there was and to emphasise the movement of the waves. The final result belies the high winds I was sheltering from just moments before but the movement in the water gives it the energy that I was looking for.

After precariously balancing on the slippery rocks with my tripod for some time, surrounded by the wind and waves, I made my retreat. The nature of landscape photography is often one that allows the photographer time to prepare a composition and then wait for the “right” light to illuminate it just the right way. Occasionally though an opportunity may arise that is fleeting, requiring quick instinctive decisions to make an image. As I began my rock-hopping back to dry land the clouds began to break up directly in front of the sun and around the lighthouse. I was quick to set up again and make just one image of it (top). Within the space of another exposure a large cloud had completely obscured the sun and any light. It did not return. I packed up and headed home satisfied I had done what I could given the circumstance.

The weather is one aspect a photographer cannot control, no matter how much we’d like to but this unpredictability makes the challenge of photography worth pursuing. With results perhaps better than those initially envisaged it serves the photographer well to keep an open mind and use their vision to create an image regardless of the conditions, with due attention to their own safety of course. More often than not images created in such circumstances generally turn out to be some of my favourites, be it the sense of achievement at having survived harsh conditions (and lived to tell the tale!) or that such a departure yields an altogether better representation of the subject from the original intention. By keeping an open mind and being prepared to seek alternative views a photographer may be pushed to stretch their skills to new levels and create images that perhaps exceed their initial intent or vision. Be prepared and ‘expect the unexpected’.

 

Mystery solved