Iolair-Bhara
Beinn Starbhanach (Starav)
To many, my photographs may suggest that I'm someone who walks the hills capturing scenes as I find them. This certainly hasn't been true in recent years, with the desire not to miss an opportunity often leading to me remaining stationary for sometimes hours. What 'hillwalker' hangs around in the same place more than they actually walk in the course of a day? The joys of hillwalking are becoming a distant memory, as I now find that my camera is indispensable &, as such, the photography will inevitably disrupt any ambitions to cover any remotely satisfying distance. There are days, though, that sometimes provide a small opportunity to turn the clock back & indulge in a bit of exploration.
With the confidence of knowing that the day was set fair, & that I had hours to spare before things got interesting approaching sunset, I set about climbing little Beinn Duirinnis, a hill that rises abruptly behind the village of Bonawe. I had surmised, looking at the map, that its higher slopes may yield a useable photogenic outlook over Loch Etive; one that could be tangibly 'different' from my other favoured places. Duirinnis's rocky summit provided magnificent views all round & satisfied the child-like explorer in me no end, but, here's the thing: with each upwardly step on the hill, my intended subject matter, Starav, sank into the mass of high hills that lay beyond, its lordly dominance over the head of Loch Etive just slowly collapsing. I had plenty of time to retrace my steps, thankfully, bidding farewell to a memorable hill-top as I descended to all but a couple of hundred feet above the loch, to the spot you see above. The normal instinct to gain height can sometimes lead the photographer astray.
By the way, this is my favourite photograph from the whole winter just past.
Beinn Starbhanach (Starav)
To many, my photographs may suggest that I'm someone who walks the hills capturing scenes as I find them. This certainly hasn't been true in recent years, with the desire not to miss an opportunity often leading to me remaining stationary for sometimes hours. What 'hillwalker' hangs around in the same place more than they actually walk in the course of a day? The joys of hillwalking are becoming a distant memory, as I now find that my camera is indispensable &, as such, the photography will inevitably disrupt any ambitions to cover any remotely satisfying distance. There are days, though, that sometimes provide a small opportunity to turn the clock back & indulge in a bit of exploration.
With the confidence of knowing that the day was set fair, & that I had hours to spare before things got interesting approaching sunset, I set about climbing little Beinn Duirinnis, a hill that rises abruptly behind the village of Bonawe. I had surmised, looking at the map, that its higher slopes may yield a useable photogenic outlook over Loch Etive; one that could be tangibly 'different' from my other favoured places. Duirinnis's rocky summit provided magnificent views all round & satisfied the child-like explorer in me no end, but, here's the thing: with each upwardly step on the hill, my intended subject matter, Starav, sank into the mass of high hills that lay beyond, its lordly dominance over the head of Loch Etive just slowly collapsing. I had plenty of time to retrace my steps, thankfully, bidding farewell to a memorable hill-top as I descended to all but a couple of hundred feet above the loch, to the spot you see above. The normal instinct to gain height can sometimes lead the photographer astray.
By the way, this is my favourite photograph from the whole winter just past.