Views From the Two Shot Nubbin
I only discovered this little patch of earth relatively recently. I mean I may have stood here before - almost certainly in fact - but until late this winter I’d never really appreciated its potential for a moment of seascape joy. Two moments in fact. Hence the name I’ve given it. Point the camera more or less to the west and you have a St Ives sunset in March. Turn it around to somewhere just east of directly north and you’re looking at the lighthouse, with that stack in the foreground. I’ve been shooting that stack quite regularly each winter over the last few years from a spot just a few yards away, but only ever at high tide when the sea wraps itself around the base. Stick on the six stop, hit the shutter as the wave slides back down the beach towards the sea and the textures can be quite wonderful. Any other time and there will be unwanted textures - footprints of all shapes and sizes scattered over the sand because it’s never long before the dog walkers reclaim the beach once the sea begins to recede. You might think that ideally I could be another yard or two to the left here for a little more separation, but then I’d be over the cliff and in the sea too. Best bring your scaffolding kit if you’re a perfectionist then.
This was the third time I’d taken pictures from this spot in just a few weeks, and it turned out to be the best session by a distance on a day that made you think of summer. A sudden explosion of people here, many of them having looked at the weather forecast and started their Easter breaks a week before the annual invasion began. Earlier, on the beach we’d seen the sand martins for the first time this year, chattering noisily as they swooped in and out of the burrows where they make their nests just below the top of the cliffs. It was the beginning of a long period of settled weather with bright and clear conditions. Not exactly warm with temperatures still only rising to fourteen degrees or so, but definitely an improvement on the dreary last few weeks of winter. We’d done what we so often do here in the quiet months, walking out across the beach and back over the dunes. Or vice versa depending upon tides and moods. With luck, a colourful sunset, a cuppa in the van afterwards, and then a visit to Marks and Spencers at Hayle on the way home to see if there are any bargain reductions waiting in the food hall, and that’s a day out to enjoy. Ali is in her element when the yellow labels start appearing on items towards the end of the day. It’s a marvel to watch, and dinner can often be a smorgasbord of fascinating things. On an M&S bargain hunt day, you don’t know what you’re going to get, but it’s never disappointing. Chicken deli wrap with your prawn balti and parmentier potatoes? Why not indeed!
But today we had brought our own food. The clocks had just gone forward and the evenings had suddenly opened up in front of us. Supper to go with that cup of tea in the van, and then back out in time for sunset at the two shot nubbin. A glowing evening to grab both compositions with the tide only just starting to ebb and nobody on the beach to get in the way of my shots. And all that’s needed is a slight repositioning of the tripod and a swivel of the ball head to switch between the pair of shots that are begging to be taken from here. And normally I’d be thinking this is too tall in the original four by six portrait format, but then again I keep asking myself, which bit am I going to leave out? The answer is always, none of it.
I’ve been taking photographs at this beach for more than ten years now, and I’ve been coming here since I was just fourteen. That’s quite a lot more than ten years. You’d think I’d know the place inside out, but there’s always something new to discover, no matter how many times I visit. Of course the sea and the sky are forever shifting and changing, but I’m always finding another view across the rocks, or a sand pool that looks different from the last time I was here. Even the textures in the sand can vary enormously from one tide to the next. There are people who photograph a place a couple of times and say “done that, been there,” but not me. I keep on looking and new things appear, including the views from the two shot nubbin. It’s a process that never bores me. Even as I write, there are at least three plans I have in mind for shots I’ve not taken here before. I just need to wait for the right moment, a bit like I did on this beautiful evening at the end of March, when the long winter finally came to an end and the air was buzzing with the sounds of springtime.
Views From the Two Shot Nubbin
I only discovered this little patch of earth relatively recently. I mean I may have stood here before - almost certainly in fact - but until late this winter I’d never really appreciated its potential for a moment of seascape joy. Two moments in fact. Hence the name I’ve given it. Point the camera more or less to the west and you have a St Ives sunset in March. Turn it around to somewhere just east of directly north and you’re looking at the lighthouse, with that stack in the foreground. I’ve been shooting that stack quite regularly each winter over the last few years from a spot just a few yards away, but only ever at high tide when the sea wraps itself around the base. Stick on the six stop, hit the shutter as the wave slides back down the beach towards the sea and the textures can be quite wonderful. Any other time and there will be unwanted textures - footprints of all shapes and sizes scattered over the sand because it’s never long before the dog walkers reclaim the beach once the sea begins to recede. You might think that ideally I could be another yard or two to the left here for a little more separation, but then I’d be over the cliff and in the sea too. Best bring your scaffolding kit if you’re a perfectionist then.
This was the third time I’d taken pictures from this spot in just a few weeks, and it turned out to be the best session by a distance on a day that made you think of summer. A sudden explosion of people here, many of them having looked at the weather forecast and started their Easter breaks a week before the annual invasion began. Earlier, on the beach we’d seen the sand martins for the first time this year, chattering noisily as they swooped in and out of the burrows where they make their nests just below the top of the cliffs. It was the beginning of a long period of settled weather with bright and clear conditions. Not exactly warm with temperatures still only rising to fourteen degrees or so, but definitely an improvement on the dreary last few weeks of winter. We’d done what we so often do here in the quiet months, walking out across the beach and back over the dunes. Or vice versa depending upon tides and moods. With luck, a colourful sunset, a cuppa in the van afterwards, and then a visit to Marks and Spencers at Hayle on the way home to see if there are any bargain reductions waiting in the food hall, and that’s a day out to enjoy. Ali is in her element when the yellow labels start appearing on items towards the end of the day. It’s a marvel to watch, and dinner can often be a smorgasbord of fascinating things. On an M&S bargain hunt day, you don’t know what you’re going to get, but it’s never disappointing. Chicken deli wrap with your prawn balti and parmentier potatoes? Why not indeed!
But today we had brought our own food. The clocks had just gone forward and the evenings had suddenly opened up in front of us. Supper to go with that cup of tea in the van, and then back out in time for sunset at the two shot nubbin. A glowing evening to grab both compositions with the tide only just starting to ebb and nobody on the beach to get in the way of my shots. And all that’s needed is a slight repositioning of the tripod and a swivel of the ball head to switch between the pair of shots that are begging to be taken from here. And normally I’d be thinking this is too tall in the original four by six portrait format, but then again I keep asking myself, which bit am I going to leave out? The answer is always, none of it.
I’ve been taking photographs at this beach for more than ten years now, and I’ve been coming here since I was just fourteen. That’s quite a lot more than ten years. You’d think I’d know the place inside out, but there’s always something new to discover, no matter how many times I visit. Of course the sea and the sky are forever shifting and changing, but I’m always finding another view across the rocks, or a sand pool that looks different from the last time I was here. Even the textures in the sand can vary enormously from one tide to the next. There are people who photograph a place a couple of times and say “done that, been there,” but not me. I keep on looking and new things appear, including the views from the two shot nubbin. It’s a process that never bores me. Even as I write, there are at least three plans I have in mind for shots I’ve not taken here before. I just need to wait for the right moment, a bit like I did on this beautiful evening at the end of March, when the long winter finally came to an end and the air was buzzing with the sounds of springtime.