Yesterday's weather, today

I missed my vocation in life: I should have been a meteorologist. A cushy number (and decent money, I would guess), with potential candidates for such an occupation needing (I suspect) to be in possession of the unswerving ability to fashion unrestrained speculation as to what the weather might be for any given day, then simply pass those approximations on to the general public. What could be easier?

Yes, hyperbole, of course (and said with tongue firmly lodged in cheek) as the Met Office does a sterling job most of the time, but when forecasts are more than twenty-four hours out it does make the advance planning of photo shoots difficult. 

What I got this morning should have happened yesterday, but clear conditions and the gorgeous light fifteen minutes before sunrise - and all on a falling tide, more than made up for any inaccuracies incurred by the UK's national weather and climate service.

© 2026

Alluring light

A sea haze, and the pastel shades created by the soft pre-dawn light lure me on to a local pier eleven minutes before sunrise. The swimmers in the middle distance are there at 7 a.m. every day of the year, come what may.

© 2026

Am I bothered?

Even in the depths of a UK winter there are signs that Spring is not far off. Snowdrops have been in bloom for a couple of weeks, while crocus and daffodils are putting in early appearances in local parks because it has been so mild in the south. 

I've been lucky this season compared to most of the country, which is still being disrupted by storms and flooding through heavy rain, but leaden skies are still very much the norm when it comes to outdoor photography. Not that it bothers me much, as long as there's the occasional thinning of the cloud base to make things interesting.

© 2026

Brief, but spectacular

Today's weather forecast - although largely accurate in predicting heavily overcast skies and rain, missed out the bit where there would be roughly twenty minutes of colour, followed by about four minutes of sunshine.

© 2026

Letting nature decide

The very idea of rain showers around dawn at this time of year has me out of the house well before first light. Rapidly changing weather is my idea of photographic fun, so I head for the beach. I have no particular subject in mind, so I just keep walking in the hope that something interesting will begin to happen. When it does, then the location chooses itself.

  © 2026

Blow the wind southerly

It's a balmy 11ºC, and the wind is from the south when I set out in the pre-dawn along the south coast. I'm going nowhere in particular, but I'm keeping a watchful eye on the sky as it shows some promise for some good pictures. Half an hour before sunrise I stop at a favourite spot and wait...

© 2026

From blue to golden

Days that have rapidly changing weather conditions are my favourite for outdoor photography. Today, in the twenty-minutes before sunrise, what started out as anything but promising gradually began to hint at something interesting, before pulling off the deal at the last moment by becoming totally captivating.

© 2026

The blues before sunrise

Overnight rain gave way to clear conditions before dawn, and the wet planking on a local pier took on a deep hue that reflected the sky. The blue hour can be a colourful spectacle, and it's becoming a favourite time to shoot, especially in the morning.  

Last Thursday's Storm Goretti (named by Météo-France, as the brunt of the gale was to be felt there), put paid to the notion of shooting with a different lens every day for a week. Maybe I gave up too easily...

© 2026

On the cheap

Day three of shooting with different lenses, and so far they have all been prime optics. On this occasion I'm using the much overlooked 50mm f/1.8. They're small; light; fast; sharp; and cheap, and if that's not five good reasons to own one I don't know what is.

© 2026

 

No competition

There's a notable absence of photographers on the beach before dawn this morning, in spite of promising weather conditions. My guess is that the majority are now nursing the after effects of the previous night's celebrations. Whatever the reason, they missed out as the pre-sunrise light was gorgeous.

The sun did put in an appearance not long after this shot was taken, but the light was no match for what preceded it. 

© 2026

Moving waves

It's the last day of the year (it's also the last sunrise of the first quarter of the century), and winter takes its first real bite on the south coast. Overnight temperatures have dropped to 0º C, but what little wind there is makes it feel closer to -4º C. But that's no excuse to avoid being out with a camera.

It's clear from the offset that the sky won't be happening any time soon, so I concentrate on shapes made by waves lapping onto the beach as the golden hour begins.

© 2025

Avoiding the cliché

It's rare for one of my local piers to be open before 8 a.m. at any time of the year, but today its gates are wide open to the public well before sunrise. I most likely have departing fishermen to thank for that as the pier is regularly used for this purpose overnight.

The scene has been photographed ad nauseam by photographers, both local and visiting, but the early hour plus the warm glow of the lights on the wooden decking make for a composition of colour more than the subject itself.

© 2025

Eureka!

The Eureka Skyway bridge that spans the M20 at Junction 9 is something of a pet subject for me. Opened in 2011, the 140 metre long footbridge and cycleway at Ashford links two retail parks on either side on the motorway. Because of its striking design (at least for a motorway bridge), I tend to visualise it in black and white terms.

© 2025

Less is more

At my latitude there's now less than eight hours of sunlight a day, and as the winter solstice approaches my seascape season is reaching its peak. 

 © 2025

Waves on the beach?

There are times when it seems that all I have to do is to wave the camera about and fire the shutter. Okay, an exaggeration, as composition and timing are of equal importance. But when - for the second day running, I'm presented with a sky such as this it makes seascape photography a piece of cake.

© 2025 

Leaving a deposit

Storm conditions not only stir up the sky, they also stir up the ground, creating all manner of photogenic subjects. This shape on my local beach was formed by running water from recent heavy rains, depositing minerals and sediments to form the pattern.

© 2025

In preference

This rock groyne (one of many built to reduce longshore drift), has been a starting point for my seascape photography this winter. Providing foreground interest and texture, it has featured in a lot of the images I've produced during the season.

Today there's a weak sky, so I use the feature as the main subject. I liked the original colour shot, but came to prefer the monochrome conversion.

© 2025

 

Painted ladies

At this time of year I find the beach to be almost irresistible when there's the promise of good light at sunrise. All that drama - and so early in the day - draws me in time and time again.

Today, the light is great, but the sky not so. I'm determined not to waste the glorious conditions, and look for an alternative subject. The brightly painted beach huts in front of Boscombe Spa Village provide just that.

© 2025

The blue hour in black and white

It's not often that I prefer a monochrome landscape image over the original colour shot, especially when taken at either end of the day, but there are exceptions. The sunrise itself was still two minutes away, but apart from the warm tones in the sky, the rest of the scene had a predominantly blue tinge. 

The conversion to black and white had little consequence as a final image, as the original was just a variance of blue hues and shadows.

© 2025

In the early light of day

As often as not, the success of a shoot can turn out different than planned. I've taken a super-telephoto lens to the beach in the hope of a spectacular sunrise, but the near-cloudless sky dashed all hope of that. 

Turning the lens inland. I spot the beach chalets glowing in the early morning light.

© 2025