It’s been a while. A couple of weekends ago I made it out to my favourite afternoon walk location, Duncan’s Hill and Birnam Hill near Dunkeld. The place was beautiful in the snow – all bright whites and glowing blue skies, trees and light.
Have some snow.
The view driving south-west along the A9 just above Forteviot is quite a treat – an open expanse of Strathearn with the river and road flowing through the landscape, bounded on the south by the Ochil hills.
On a snowy winter’s day with passing sunlight, even better!
Herewith, a few photos taken in the course of a few minutes as a filthy dark cloud rolled in.
…it does it properly. A small handful of photos taken late one evening when all around was quiet (apart from some lunatic burning-out the clutch in their Ford to get up the road) and covered in white (and slush) and no light but streetlights…
I took a long scenic detour home today, stopping in Bridge of Earn to search for Cromwell’s Tree having read about it in a book.
It’s easy to find – on the road heading south-west out of town, cross the railway bridge and it’s in the immediately adjacent field to the left.
The tree looks dead, but while the top half is a mass of dead bleached white remains of branches, the bottom third has fresh growth.
It’s known as Cromwell’s Tree as it commemorates the fact that Oliver Cromwell set up cam at Bridge of Earn in 1651. There is no documented evidence proving a direct link, but the tree is old enough to have been present in the 17th Century.
While I was there I found a pleasant reflection of the sky in a flooded field nearby.
Late November, very late autumn – short days of chilly weather and cold light – I set off for a drive through Glen Lyon. I’d not been there for at least five years; felt like ages. Yet very little changes. The river Lyon still burbles on merrily past the Roman Bridge (that isn’t in any way Roman – it dates from the late 18th century); the mountains were all the same shape, with a light dusting of snow hinting at winter yet to come; the Scots Pine trees were still where I remembered them being (and, more to the point, I’ve since learned that they’re a remnant of the Caledonian Forest). There are, however, yet more potholes in the road from the dam at the end of the Glen up and over to Glen Lochay and someone’s plonked a cattle fence across the way. So it goes.
I had some fun with the Pentax 50mm f/1.8 lens, using it for landscapes (not a usual choice for me) and closeup work, even using a hole drilled in the lens-cap to make it into a pinhole.
Ansel had his “Moonrise, Hernandez, Mexico” moment. On the way back along the glen, I had my “Moonrise, Glen Lyon, Scotland” moment: the dullest of grey fading light, a clear view along between the mountains, dark bluey clouds passing rapidly in the distance and the moon rising beyond. Better yet, there were two boulders – one to climb, from which the other made a nice foreground feature. Click. Or more accurately, cliiiiiick, click, cliiiiiiiiiiiick – the sounds of a long exposure HDR sequence (1s, 0.25s, 4s) to capture the contrast on the scene. Categorically the best photo opportunity of the year.
I drove back over Ben Lawers in the pitch black with the rain turning to sleet.
It’s been a slightly busy year; so busy I’m still catching up with photos made in April / May time. Much longer and it’ll suit next year instead!
Around the middle of May a group of friends and I went for a photo-stroll from Crieff out along Lady Mary’s Walk, in search of bluebells. We found some. I shot some with an infrared filter, just to see what would happen – it seems to have rendered the colours with a very olde-worlde vintage faded effect.
A selection of photos taken around Glen Lednock, mostly up the Melville Monument overlooking Comrie.
This is Highland Boundary Fault territory; the fault itself runs up Glen Artney from the south-west straight through Cultybraggan PoW Camp, on through Comrie and across the A85 to the east.
I was also struck by how vintage Comrie itself looks from afar – a nice ratio of buildings interspersed by trees, with such a low vehicular traffic flow (even on a Saturday afternoon) that one could almost imagine the cars being replaced by carriages.
And no visit to Glen Lednock could be complete without the obvious long-exposure photo of the Wee Cauldron waterfall, of course!
The flip-side of my previous post on what nature does around town: making architecture and art look interesting.
It feels like millenia ago, but back in late Spring this year I spent a happy afternoon strolling across one of the bridges in Perth, to see what I could see.
It seems like ages ago now – but back in April, a friend took me for a walk up Corrie Fee near Glen Clova. It was the first time I’ve been there, and didn’t know exactly what to expect; the first stretch through the forestry was pleasant (once the weather made its mind up what to fling at us), but when the view opened-out into a massive wide vista at the foot of a corrie, complete with glacial morraine hillocks, it was wonderful.
Continuing the theme of failed attempts to do astrophotography, I spent an evening out at Newport-on-Tay in Fife. There’s a neat little road leading down to a carpark with a tiny beach and rocky outcrop… with the interplay of artificial lights and huge blanket of fog, it needed photographing 🙂
On a whim, a friend and I spent a few hours out in the middle of nowhere, Aberdeenshire – hunting aurora which totally failed to show, avoiding fog and pointing cameras sky-wards to see what could be seen.
I quite liked the lights of a cow-byre against the mist, the Pleiades and Hyades star clusters in the constellation of Taurus and a little wisp of cloud below the rising moon.
Late in the afternoon I caught a ferry from Oban out to Mull.
Several times in the voyage, the light was just amazing.
Leaving Oban with sunlight and clouds over Kerrera:
An epic vibrant complete double-rainbow seeming to hover just 50yd behind the ferry:
Stunning light approaching Mull:
There’s something relaxing just simply watching the low sunlight reflecting off the bow-waves around the boat:
Detail of soft sunlight reflecting on the sea and bow-waves from the ferry.
No trip to Argyll is complete without a drive around Inverawe. A beautiful place, with woodland left to nature to do its thing in the middle of the estate. This time, the trees were particularly gorgeous in the sunlight.
Of course, what really matters is that Old Friend, the first and most characterful of the trees I later identified as a goat willow, is doing well. He is.
My favourite of many old goat willow trees around the estate – increasingly falling apart at the seams, it’s still a characterful tree.
I spent Saturday travelling, mostly driving, to old stamping ground in Argyll.
There were roadworks holding up proceedings at Cruachan visitor centre, so I stopped to take the obvious photo of the Pass of Brander from the carpark.
The other favourite view is from the Connel Bridge looking toward Ben Cruachan; this time, the mountain was hiding under a rain cloud. The Falls of Lora tidal race below the bridge was flowing pretty fast, with the incoming tide.