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A serene day on the rugged coast of Crimea, where warm light kissed the cliffs and the sea stretched into infinity. It was one of those magical moments when everything aligns — the water, the sky, the silence.
The Segla Mountain... probably the most famous hike of Senja, but absolutely worth it. The view is just amazing and when you go to the cleavage the Segla really emphasizes why it got that name.
Moremi Game Reserve | Botsuana
This little calf played quite some time, till it realised that two strange big animals with 4 whells stood nearby and then "fled" into safety and watched as carefully from underneath his mother.
In the blue immensity of the Atlantic Ocean, where the land bids farewell to the continent and embraces the sea, hides an unspoilt paradise - Praia da Alagoa, on the island of Flores, in the Azores, where time slows down and nature reveals itself in all its purity: the vibrant green of the vegetation, the volcanic black of the rocks and the deep blue of the sea intertwine in a unique harmony. A refuge where the wind whispers ancient stories and the sea sings songs of eternity.
"Thinking about Portreath Friday." The message was accompanied by a screenshot of a weather forecast that promised some bracing conditions for anyone who was prepared to get wet and risk a certain amount of seawater coming into contact with their camera if they didn't keep their wits about them. It took me about half a second to consider my options before replying that I would be there.
The previous conversation on Whatsapp with my daughter Nicky had centred on the relative merits of varying brands of vegetarian chorizo style sausages, so this was a bit of a departure. Probably a good thing because seascape photography is surely a broader subject with a more enduring conversation potential than meat substitute products.
I hadn't been to Portreath recently, even though it's so close to home, passing the summer crowds and heading along the coast in favour of the wilder and more open Gwithian and the increased opportunities for solitude that it brings. But when there's weather like this, Portreath Monkey Hut at high tide becomes a magnet to me. As the nights close in it's also one of only two places I can really get to after work now. Another week or two and I'll be limited to weekends unless I want to try some more astro-photography on a freezing cold night.
Surprisingly, and to our relief in this era of social distancing we had the place to ourselves, hiding behind the big wall that protects us from the elements here, occasionally popping up like meerkats to scan the horizon and hastily steal a shot from the driving elements that were coming straight at us. At one point a man stood on the quay below us, and before we could say anything a huge roller dumped its contents all over him, chasing him back along the yards to the relative safety of the inner harbour area. Every so often a substantial plume of spray and foam would rise into the air, giving us a split second to turn our backs and guard our precious camera equipment as it landed all over us. At least we were in a safe place, despite what misgivings the scene might be offering you.
And so for a while we watched the light fade as Storm Alex, the first of the season and named by our friends from across the Channel in France, battered the coast. As ever I couldn't resist trying a slightly longer exposure despite the rain and seaspray coming straight at us on the back of a fierce wind. With the trusty shower cap resting on top of the camera I dialled in my settings and tried my best to compose the image. Choosing the moment to expose the camera to the world and take a shot before quickly replacing the shower cap was one of pure chance, although I did manage to grab a small collection of images that I could barely see on my screen. Processing the RAW files also proved difficult and this is one of many versions of the same shot that I'm still struggling with.
But what I love is the drama, with the ever photographed monkey hut almost disappearing into the white water around it. I can't think of a better way to spend a Friday evening than trying to capture an image of the elemental fury around me. This is the Cornwall I love. Wild, brooding and ever changing in its moods where every outing brings challenges and my waterproofs are always in the car. The winter months are often seemingly endless, but if they bring out a passion you can completely lose yourself in, then what's not to love about them?
Penny Lane giving me the “I didn’t do anything… but I absolutely DID something” face. Somewhere in this yard, a sock, a stick, or your dignity has gone missing.
What a lucky day... just minutes after we left from a pride of lions that hunted down an elephant that night, I saw this young leopard drinking at the Khwai River | Botswana
"One could not count the moons that shimmer on her roofs
And the thousand splendid suns that hide behind her walls"--Saeb-e-Tabrizi
The title of Khaled Hosseini's book A Thousand Splendid Suns is based on this poem by the 17th century Persia poet Tabrizi...
Nighttime photo of Captain Nalle, part of Thomas Dambo’s Giant Trolls, glowing under a stunning starry sky in Nordhavn, Copenhagen. This magical long-exposure shot captures the brilliance of the stars as their light etches timeless beauty into the scene
I think we're all pretty much agreed that 2020 isn't going to be a year that too many people look back upon fondly. No doubt some of us have experienced the odd landmark moment that will make the year more memorable for them personally, but for most people, it's been a stinker. For some it's been a lot worse than that.
In our own little world of insignificant first world problems, our plans to spend a fortnight in South Western Spain had been long since shelved when we decided that a few days in the remote Somerset Levels would make a pleasing change of scene. During the first half of last week, the weather in the UK had been unusually hot, a sure sign that thunderstorms were on the horizon. Earlier in the day we'd had lunch at a very exclusive looking nearby hotel before hiking up onto the cooler climes of the Quantock Hills to gaze down over the Bristol Channel beyond the twin islets of Steep Holm and Flat Holm towards the haze of a not too distant South Wales.
After agreeing that Steep Holm would offer better natural protection (the clue is in the name) in the event of an apocalypse where we were among the few survivors we strolled happily back down the slope to the car and headed for the coast at nearby Kilve. We've reached the age where we have started to take camping chairs along with us on our outings, and so we sat by the low cliffs above the beach and watched the sun change colour from yellow to orange and then red as it sunk into the sea near the coast of Exmoor. Needless to say I took photos. We agreed it had been a good day; in fact the most enjoyable day of the year we decided after a little more thought on the subject. Not that it's had much competition of course, but there you go.
I'm never one for leaving immediately after sunset - it's often the best time to take photos. Pink cumulus had formed above us in a manner that both threatened and excited at the same time, and before long, the occasional flash of lightning flickered menacingly behind them. Surely rain was on the way? We watched and waited, spellbound by the unfolding drama as the light gradually faded and the lightning began to spread westwards along the Welsh coast on the opposite side of the estuary. It was getting late, but still we stayed, riveted by the show and expecting to get soaked by the urgent rainfall that never arrived. At some point it occurred to my slow witted brain that putting the camera on the tripod and pointing it across the Severn Estuary might be an idea. I'd always had an idea as to how it might be possible to photograph lightning, but the opportunity had never arisen; at least not until now it hadn't. With a series of 25 to 30 second exposures I hoped that what was mostly sheet lightning might produce the odd fork, which it eventually did - close to the resort town of Barry, which for those of you who are British will know is the home of a much loved sitcom of recent years - hence the title. I was very happy. An already excellent day, completed by watching a thunderstorm from a safe, dry location in the comfort of a cheap folding chair. What's not to love about that?
Part of my Surfcoast /Great Ocean Road trip. Landed in Torquay and the weather had been ordinary for a couple of days, luckily this particular morning the weather was kind and gave me a chance to take a few shots.
Taken with an iPhone 17 Pro Max while observing the northern lights from Smithville Lake near Kansas City, MO
An aerial view of the mesmerizing sand dunes of Namibia, sculpted by the relentless winds over centuries. The golden hues of the sun bring life to the desert, highlighting its soft curves and intricate textures. A landscape both serene and untamed, where nature paints its masterpiece with light and shadow.