Dash
I’ll never learn, half way back to my daughters and the light I had been waiting for arrives! The evening brought heavy showers interrupted with bright intervals as it edged onward. The little voice in my head said “off your arse Malcolm you should be out in this”. I had the very composition in my mind a small clump of sycamore trees sat at the far end of a golden wheat field, the right light it could be a keeper. I set off with that in mind on a slow casual walk to arrive at my destination to catch the last sunlight before the it was taken by a bank of heavy clouds. Still I was here so I took my photo and walked around the edge of the field to see if there was any other composition of merit. When I got to the far end of the field I waited hoping the sun would play ball before it was swallowed by the horizon. The longer I waited the more I convinced myself it wasn’t going to happen. A dedicated landscape photographer knows how to wait, but not I. Should I even be a landscape photographer, If I’m not moving I’m not doing. It was getting late so I started back, and of course it happened, so my lazy evening stroll became a mad dash, again. I was lucky, I got the photo I was after and a happier photographer started back to again, although now in desperate need of a shower before I hit the sack that night.
Dash
I’ll never learn, half way back to my daughters and the light I had been waiting for arrives! The evening brought heavy showers interrupted with bright intervals as it edged onward. The little voice in my head said “off your arse Malcolm you should be out in this”. I had the very composition in my mind a small clump of sycamore trees sat at the far end of a golden wheat field, the right light it could be a keeper. I set off with that in mind on a slow casual walk to arrive at my destination to catch the last sunlight before the it was taken by a bank of heavy clouds. Still I was here so I took my photo and walked around the edge of the field to see if there was any other composition of merit. When I got to the far end of the field I waited hoping the sun would play ball before it was swallowed by the horizon. The longer I waited the more I convinced myself it wasn’t going to happen. A dedicated landscape photographer knows how to wait, but not I. Should I even be a landscape photographer, If I’m not moving I’m not doing. It was getting late so I started back, and of course it happened, so my lazy evening stroll became a mad dash, again. I was lucky, I got the photo I was after and a happier photographer started back to again, although now in desperate need of a shower before I hit the sack that night.