It’s not hard to take photographs here. The combination of landscape and constantly changing light means the world presents itself to you photographically, over and over.
It makes photography easy to practice and I confess I can do it lazily here, with a phone that likes taking landscapes.
What the easy-ness is good for is that it makes you itch to get outside, to see more, to notice the light and the landscape in each and every weather. (I’ve never had a dog but sometimes I feel like I am out taking the phone for a walk, responding to its nudges, its insistence on being taken outside.)
Watching the landscape in different weathers is a good way to get close up and familiar with a place, to get to know it in different aspects, colours and seasons. It deepens your relationship with a place. It’s part of what makes you feel genuinely at home.
Here are a few of my weather watching photos from last week. Although it was bitterly cold, fortunately the snow passed us by.
Lunch break, and the chance to breathe in air, coldness, light. A sudden splash of sunlight on the dark-cold water.
Driving back and forth all week I could see ice forming on the lochans, changing the colour and the texture of the water, deepening and darkening it, throwing up mad swirls, glinting in the late afternoon as the low sun caught a patch of ice.
The earliest I was free in daylight the day was biting cold with very little light but the ice-promise took me out regardless, still walking dislocated-gingerly, but out on the moor-path crunching ice puddles, regardless.
Although we had no snow to talk of, the hills are still snow-covered. You get to know them differently with this covering of snow and there are just so many times when the light falls on them, mesmerising. This outlook is just along the road. I don’t think I could ever tire of it.
snow on the hills
The wind is a near constant here. It was a cold morning at the beach today, too cold to linger with the wind off the sea, but I like the colours of the coldness in this shot, and the grasses in the sand dunes in the wind.
wind in the dunes, Gress beach
A few notes on the practice and process:
Although the photography is easy here, a writing practice is still somewhere beyond me. I think maintaining this space and this weekly practice are part of preparing the ground though, and I’m willing to be patient and wait to see what unfolds.
Reviewing my pictures on a weekly basis feels significant too, a way to remember, to pay a different kind of attention, and to notice patterns that might otherwise have passed me by.
It’s also a fundamental part of the practice of sharing and telling as well as noticing for myself. I am grateful to those of you who have noticed my noticing and written in response.
If you feel that you would like to leave a comment in response to a post, it’s easy to do it on the website if you click through to read the post there, or, for those of you who get the posts by email, you can just write an email reply which comes to me, but isn’t shared on the web.
Quiet reading without commenting is of course perfectly fine too, and how I tend to read blogs myself nowadays.
I’ve done a slight adjustment this week to try and resize the photos that appear in the feed or your email, but I won’t know if it works until after it’s published… fingers crossed. Again, thanks to you all for reading.