Mother Nature's Sliders
It all started when Judy, who was looking particularly bedraggled, knocked on our door on Tuesday as we were eating our breakfast. We’re not used to visitors, especially in the mornings, so I no doubt looked a bit nonplussed as I scrabbled for the front door key to let her in. Peering out from under the dripping hood of a very wet anorak, her glasses speckled with the rain that had been beating the sodden earth since sometime in the small hours of Monday, our neighbour and one time colleague had come bearing unexpected gifts. “I don’t want any money for them,” I heard her saying to Ali, but I’m not feeling great today and I wondered whether you’d like them.” Ali had already said yes before I was invited to comment. “I’ve left the door open,” Judy went on, “I’d better get on home.” And with that she disappeared back out into the rain.
More than anything - except perhaps for small dogs and Stanley, her eight year old great nephew, Ali loves a bit of musical theatre. Her eyes were already aglow with excitement as she began to dance round the house, singing away to herself and rifling through the wardrobe for something suitable for the evening. I’m not exactly crazy about musicals myself, but each time we go, the look on her face as the entertainment springs into action and her eyes begin to glisten makes me almost as happy as she is. And as musicals go, this was one that I actually rather like. Jesus Christ Superstar - more of a rock opera really - from the era that I’ve been forever stuck in as far as my own music collection is concerned. I was mildly excited too. Even if my carefully laid plans had been consigned to the dustbin. I messaged my fellow togs, said I was out of action for the evening, and Ali and I prepared for a date at the theatre. Quite how the cast manage to turn out performances like that every day - sometimes twice a day - I really don’t know. But then again, our washing machine dances and sings better than I do. Especially when it’s on the last spin and drain cycle.
“I didn’t know we were going out tonight. Sorry I’ve been busy at work and hadn’t really kept a track on what was agreed.” I looked back through the Whatsapp thread and had to agree with Dave that I’d been a bit ambiguous. “I thought we were going on Wednesday” was Lee’s response. I had to admit that it looked as if I’d suggested Wednesday, so I only had myself to blame for the confusion. This evening’s sudden shift change was bringing wider disruption to my own plans. Plans for Wednesday that involved a day at Land’s End, dinner in the van, and another crack at the images I’d taken there two weeks earlier - hopefully in more interesting conditions. I’d been looking forward to taking advantage of the fact that there was no five a side this week (the sports hall was unavailable because the votes of the eight people who’d remembered the police commissioner elections needed to be counted) and having some quiet time alone on a cliff top.
But the three of us are off on another adventure soon and needed to convene, if only so they could agree with my proposed itinerary. More of that soon. Meanwhile, a Wednesday evening out at the usual stomping ground would do very nicely. Photography wasn’t really the main objective of the evening, but maybe I’d try out the new lightweight set up I’d acquired in advance of the hiking trip in Scotland later this year. More of that soon too. See how I’m building this stuff up? Land’s End would have to wait for now. I threw the Peak District photography guide in the car, knowing that neither of them would pass more than a casual glance over it, both seemingly happy to go with whatever I’ve found to take pictures of when we get there in a couple of weeks from now.
Lee was running behind, and for a while, Dave and I sat by the lifeguard hut, watching the surfers, wondering whether we should have brought our wetsuits and boards rather than the camera bags. The light was soft and diffused, the tide had just started to creep back in, and it seemed too pleasant an evening to be furrowing brows over compositions. Dave had a plan though, and I was happy just to tag along. Maybe I’d try something new. Ali and I had wandered through the rocks at low tide here just a couple of weeks earlier. There’s always another composition here if you keep looking, and I never tire of watching how the white waves sweep in and wash back through the dark rocks. Eventually Lee arrived, armed with his Nikon, sat for a while and chatted, and then disappeared to see what Dave was up to. I didn’t see either of them for over an hour.
None of us were expecting this, but as the golden hour arrived, it looked as if we were in for something a bit special. Quite how special was still a surprise that lay in wait. That first tinge of anticipation as the undersides of clouds are picked out in gold, gradually blooming as the pinks take over after sunset. It was one of those evenings where the editing suite was going to be barely used at all, as Mother Nature had already gone heavy with the saturation sliders. This isn’t the only shot I’ll be posting from what turned into one of the most memorable sunsets I’ve ever seen at my favourite beach, but there was no question that it was going to be the first. Seemingly, the fates had conspired in the form of mixed messages and musical magic to bring us here to one of those rare evenings that would linger long in the memory.
Mother Nature's Sliders
It all started when Judy, who was looking particularly bedraggled, knocked on our door on Tuesday as we were eating our breakfast. We’re not used to visitors, especially in the mornings, so I no doubt looked a bit nonplussed as I scrabbled for the front door key to let her in. Peering out from under the dripping hood of a very wet anorak, her glasses speckled with the rain that had been beating the sodden earth since sometime in the small hours of Monday, our neighbour and one time colleague had come bearing unexpected gifts. “I don’t want any money for them,” I heard her saying to Ali, but I’m not feeling great today and I wondered whether you’d like them.” Ali had already said yes before I was invited to comment. “I’ve left the door open,” Judy went on, “I’d better get on home.” And with that she disappeared back out into the rain.
More than anything - except perhaps for small dogs and Stanley, her eight year old great nephew, Ali loves a bit of musical theatre. Her eyes were already aglow with excitement as she began to dance round the house, singing away to herself and rifling through the wardrobe for something suitable for the evening. I’m not exactly crazy about musicals myself, but each time we go, the look on her face as the entertainment springs into action and her eyes begin to glisten makes me almost as happy as she is. And as musicals go, this was one that I actually rather like. Jesus Christ Superstar - more of a rock opera really - from the era that I’ve been forever stuck in as far as my own music collection is concerned. I was mildly excited too. Even if my carefully laid plans had been consigned to the dustbin. I messaged my fellow togs, said I was out of action for the evening, and Ali and I prepared for a date at the theatre. Quite how the cast manage to turn out performances like that every day - sometimes twice a day - I really don’t know. But then again, our washing machine dances and sings better than I do. Especially when it’s on the last spin and drain cycle.
“I didn’t know we were going out tonight. Sorry I’ve been busy at work and hadn’t really kept a track on what was agreed.” I looked back through the Whatsapp thread and had to agree with Dave that I’d been a bit ambiguous. “I thought we were going on Wednesday” was Lee’s response. I had to admit that it looked as if I’d suggested Wednesday, so I only had myself to blame for the confusion. This evening’s sudden shift change was bringing wider disruption to my own plans. Plans for Wednesday that involved a day at Land’s End, dinner in the van, and another crack at the images I’d taken there two weeks earlier - hopefully in more interesting conditions. I’d been looking forward to taking advantage of the fact that there was no five a side this week (the sports hall was unavailable because the votes of the eight people who’d remembered the police commissioner elections needed to be counted) and having some quiet time alone on a cliff top.
But the three of us are off on another adventure soon and needed to convene, if only so they could agree with my proposed itinerary. More of that soon. Meanwhile, a Wednesday evening out at the usual stomping ground would do very nicely. Photography wasn’t really the main objective of the evening, but maybe I’d try out the new lightweight set up I’d acquired in advance of the hiking trip in Scotland later this year. More of that soon too. See how I’m building this stuff up? Land’s End would have to wait for now. I threw the Peak District photography guide in the car, knowing that neither of them would pass more than a casual glance over it, both seemingly happy to go with whatever I’ve found to take pictures of when we get there in a couple of weeks from now.
Lee was running behind, and for a while, Dave and I sat by the lifeguard hut, watching the surfers, wondering whether we should have brought our wetsuits and boards rather than the camera bags. The light was soft and diffused, the tide had just started to creep back in, and it seemed too pleasant an evening to be furrowing brows over compositions. Dave had a plan though, and I was happy just to tag along. Maybe I’d try something new. Ali and I had wandered through the rocks at low tide here just a couple of weeks earlier. There’s always another composition here if you keep looking, and I never tire of watching how the white waves sweep in and wash back through the dark rocks. Eventually Lee arrived, armed with his Nikon, sat for a while and chatted, and then disappeared to see what Dave was up to. I didn’t see either of them for over an hour.
None of us were expecting this, but as the golden hour arrived, it looked as if we were in for something a bit special. Quite how special was still a surprise that lay in wait. That first tinge of anticipation as the undersides of clouds are picked out in gold, gradually blooming as the pinks take over after sunset. It was one of those evenings where the editing suite was going to be barely used at all, as Mother Nature had already gone heavy with the saturation sliders. This isn’t the only shot I’ll be posting from what turned into one of the most memorable sunsets I’ve ever seen at my favourite beach, but there was no question that it was going to be the first. Seemingly, the fates had conspired in the form of mixed messages and musical magic to bring us here to one of those rare evenings that would linger long in the memory.