Runner on the Shore
At times Tuesday evening was beginning to feel a bit frustrating. We'd arrived a couple of hours before sunset in the hopes of catching surfers in front of Godrevy Lighthouse at high tide with the long lens, but neither of us had thought to check the sea conditions. The water was unusually flat and limpid, even for a summer evening. One or two regulars sat astride their boards in the sea chattering to each other, but nobody was surfing in the true sense of the word.
So we waited for sunset to catch more images to add to what I've rather lazily entitled my "Silhouettes on the Shore" collection. To my enduring surprise I've actually started to sell one or two of them. As the backdrop went bright orange I waited for someone, anyone to walk across the wet sand which had so recently been submerged under the now retreating tide.
Nobody had the good grace to stroll across the scene looking enigmatic, preferably carrying a surfboard at a pleasing angle for this particular onlooker. Two young lads went past with skimmer boards, but settled on a spot to the left of the best patch of light. The two young ladies who'd been entertaining themselves with a paddleboard for some time eventually emerged from the sea and walked across the scene, perfectly reflected in the wet sand. I'd been waiting for this moment for ages, but with one at each end they struggled with the enormous board as if they were carrying a heavy wardrobe. For a moment I could hear Bernard Cribbins singing "Right Said Fred" in my head as I watched them. It wasn't quite what I was looking for. Eventually I decided that I would become the subject of my own composition and left Lee to operate my camera as well as his own as I strode heroically across the viewfinder in the fading light. But it was too dark and side on I look like a duck anyway. Finally I had given up and took a photo of Godrevy Lighthouse in pastel pink shades instead.
Happily one of two earlier passers by had made eye catching subjects, especially this young chap running effortlessly at the water's edge, who was good enough to ensure that both of his feet were off the ground as I hit the shutter on my camera. That never happens when anyone photographs me running. On each such occasion I've been replaced by a grimacing middle aged man dragging his feet along the ground looking like someone needs to prop him up rather urgently - but that's another story.
Runner on the Shore
At times Tuesday evening was beginning to feel a bit frustrating. We'd arrived a couple of hours before sunset in the hopes of catching surfers in front of Godrevy Lighthouse at high tide with the long lens, but neither of us had thought to check the sea conditions. The water was unusually flat and limpid, even for a summer evening. One or two regulars sat astride their boards in the sea chattering to each other, but nobody was surfing in the true sense of the word.
So we waited for sunset to catch more images to add to what I've rather lazily entitled my "Silhouettes on the Shore" collection. To my enduring surprise I've actually started to sell one or two of them. As the backdrop went bright orange I waited for someone, anyone to walk across the wet sand which had so recently been submerged under the now retreating tide.
Nobody had the good grace to stroll across the scene looking enigmatic, preferably carrying a surfboard at a pleasing angle for this particular onlooker. Two young lads went past with skimmer boards, but settled on a spot to the left of the best patch of light. The two young ladies who'd been entertaining themselves with a paddleboard for some time eventually emerged from the sea and walked across the scene, perfectly reflected in the wet sand. I'd been waiting for this moment for ages, but with one at each end they struggled with the enormous board as if they were carrying a heavy wardrobe. For a moment I could hear Bernard Cribbins singing "Right Said Fred" in my head as I watched them. It wasn't quite what I was looking for. Eventually I decided that I would become the subject of my own composition and left Lee to operate my camera as well as his own as I strode heroically across the viewfinder in the fading light. But it was too dark and side on I look like a duck anyway. Finally I had given up and took a photo of Godrevy Lighthouse in pastel pink shades instead.
Happily one of two earlier passers by had made eye catching subjects, especially this young chap running effortlessly at the water's edge, who was good enough to ensure that both of his feet were off the ground as I hit the shutter on my camera. That never happens when anyone photographs me running. On each such occasion I've been replaced by a grimacing middle aged man dragging his feet along the ground looking like someone needs to prop him up rather urgently - but that's another story.