In a quiet Devon backwater guarded by dragonflies a small rowing boat bobs up and down gently in the breeze.
“While my little boat moves on its mooring mist, and daylight wanes, old memories begin.”
Lake and Boat
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Photography from the west country
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Fisherman’s Bay
Visiting Fisherman’s Bay on The Lizard at Gunwalloe to let my dog run on the wide sweep of sand, stretching all the way to Porthleven, I saw just in time hundreds of Man o’ War jellyfish washed up by the last high tide.
Potting Shed at Heligan
Visiting the old potting shed at The Lost Gardens of Heligan at St Austell I saw two young gardeners at work.
On the wall was a photo of a gardener who left the 200 acre estate to go to the Great War to fight in the trenches.
A Lizard Cove
Many of the coves in the Far West of Cornwall were used for smuggling, and today on a moonlit night when the sea is well into the rocky inlets it is easy to imagine the small boats putting into there laden with contraband. This secluded place would give good cover from the excise men.
Sea Dreams – Lord Alfred Tennyson
“But round the North, a light,
A belt, it seem’d, of luminous vapour, lay,
And ever in it a low musical note
Swell’d up and died; and, as it swell’d, a ridge
Of breaker issued from the belt,
Robbers bridge
Robbers Bridge Robbers Bridge Exmoor: this scene, recorded some years ago, can no longer be photographed as the tree branch that so nicely mirrors the curve of the bridge has fallen off. The scene is notable for another reason. When I...
Land and Sea Landscape Photography
Land & SeaImages
Capturing Mood
People who take photographs often have a favourite subject: pets, people, food, steam trains, abstract images or landscapes. Mine is the last of these, and as with many attracted to taking their camera out of doors this stems from a longstanding love of nature and the countryside, especially the hills.
The cliffs of England stand…
“… Glimmering and vast, out in the tranquil bay.
Come to the window, sweet is the night air!
Only, from the long line of spray
Where the sea meets the moon-blanched sand,
Listen! you hear the grating roar
Of pebbles which the waves draw back, and fling,
At their return, up the high strand,
Begin, and cease, and then again begin,
With tremulous cadence slow, and bring
The eternal note of sadness in.“
– Matthew Arnold