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 

Two bites of the cherry

"Unpredictable as weather..." goes the line of a song from a well-known Rodgers and Hammerstein musical that has the word 'music' in the title, but it's true. At least here in the UK.

The pre-dawn light was nothing special, but as I began to set up my camera on the beach I quickly become aware of a soft magenta light enveloping everything as sunrise approached. It's not that unusual at either end of the day, but the trick is to be at a suitable location when it happens.

The hue is ephemeral, and moments later it fades away completely. The sky becomes a uniform grey, and thinking that's all I'm going to get light-wise, I leave the beach. But nature isn't finished yet, and as the cloud breaks up I'm treated to another dazzling display. The whole episode lasted a mere 9 minutes.

© 2025

 

Nowhere has a place to tie-up

                  Early morning beach.

© 2025

Preferential treatment

In the past decade or so, replenishment schemes have built up my local beaches to the point of taking away the exposed expanses of foreshore at low tide. Ripples in the sand, and reflections in tide pools once left by the ebbing sea (and very photogenic), were replaced by a subnstantial sandbank that extended to the low water line. 

But the current increase in winter storms, coupled with high tides, is beginning to shape the shoreline back to the way nature (and I) prefer.

© 2025

Midwinter blues

Midwinter, and the coastal mist adds to the feeling of drabness. I had considered rendering the scene in black and white, but instead I partially desaturated what colour there was to enhance the mood of the day.

On a lighter note, the days are beginning to get noticeably longer. 

© 2025

No excuses needed

There's something about black & white photography that is timeless. Even with today's ubiquitous hi-res colour imaging, the genre is still widely practiced.

I took the photograph of the zipwire tower in colour as the sun rose over the sea, but the monochrome rendition has more impact.

© 2025

Getting the ball rolling

I'm roughly half way through my seascape season, and the weather isn't playing ball. It's either heavily overcast, or any pre-dawn cloud simply melts away with the sun just below the horizon. So I'm posting what I got, not what I would have liked, just to get the photographic ball rolling for the new year.

© 2025

 

A nine-and-a-half-mile walk, only to come home with this?

It could have been worse. It's the last day of the year, and I'm out early in a bid to see it out with a photograph. The sky didn't look encouraging from the off, and the weather forecast was more or less spot-on. The tinge of warmth that did materialise in the cloud as the sun rose disappeared as quickly as it appeared, and I was left with endless grey.

Still, at least it was good exercise.

© 2024

In one sixth of an hour

I've been at this photography game for quite some time now, but it still amazes me as to how quickly conditions can change. 10 minutes before this shot was taken it was raining, and the sky was heavily overcast.

© 2024

Good times, not so good times

There are the (admittedly) rare times when all that's necessary is to wave the camera about at arm's length to get good images, whilst at other times it's hard work to get anything usable. Okay, hyperbole regarding that first remark, but today's shoot definitely applies to the second.

All the elements are in place for something memorable to happen as the sun rises over the ocean, but the reality is quite different, and I'm left scratching about making the most of what's available.

© 2024 

Target fixation

It's a calm morning on the coast, with temperatures slightly below average, and although the sky is in a state of flux I'm struggling to find a composition. I'm trying to make something of the tubular framework that sits over the concrete outfall that deals with heavy rainfall in the area, but it's not working. 

The pool of still seawater in the foreground doesn't extend far enough so that I can isolate the structure and make use of the reflection, so I opt to include the pier. I had been so preoccupied with one angle that I almost missed this one. A few minutes later and the cloud cover returned.

© 2024

Gritty day; gritty picture

The beauty of monochrome is that a scene can be photographed under any conditions. It's what you do afterwards that makes the difference. It's an average winter's day, and low cloud rules out any chance of spectacular light as the sun barely creeps into the sky at this time of year. With that in mind, I'm on the lookout for shape and form, and find it with this clump of Marram grass at Branksome Dene beach. 

I gave the image a blue tint and applied a generous amount of "film grain" in post processing, to add to the grittiness of the day.

© 2024 

The tree on the beach

I'm always on the lookout for this kind of thing, especially when dealing with flat light. Looking directly downwards, water that has drained onto the beach has created a shape on the sand that resembles a tree. How nature has the habit of repeating itself.

© 2024

L'heure bleue revisited

I'm becoming quite a fan of shooting in the blue hour, as the hues on display before the sun breaks the horizon at either end of the day can be stunning.

© 2024

On my way home

The few wisps of cloud that were dotted about over the horizon showed some promise for a composition upon my arrival at the beach. But casting a swift 360º look about me as I stood on the shoreline told me things wren't going to get much better, if at all.

Since I had made the effort, I dutifully took a few snaps to validate my being there and headed for home. As always, I keep an eye on my chosen subject for as long as possible, and it was 24 minutes after sunrise that the sky filled-out and became interesting. All I needed then was something of interest for a foreground.

© 2024

On the trail of the lonesome... hawthorn

The tree population on Nine Barrow Down is somewhat sparse to begin with. Anything growing is constantly exposed to the prevailing southwesterly, and the few wind-blown specimens dotted about at the eastern end have now blown over, or at least looking the worse for wear. 

But this lone hawthorn, near the burial mounds, still thrives on the exposed hilltop.

© 2024

From one Down to the next

Storm Bert blew in and blew out again, leaving turbulent atmospheric conditions in its wake. The perfect time for a walk in the hills. 

This view from the western end of Ballard Down overlooks Giants Grave Bottom (in shadow on the hilltop), at the eastern end of Nine Barrow Down.

© 2024

 

L'heure bleue

There's no doubt in my mind that winter light is the best light for landscape photography, mainly because the sun remains low in the sky all day. It gives an extended 'golden hour', but there's a time that is often overlooked by many that can produce equally appealing images, and that is the blue hour. 

That time between twilight and sunrise/sunset; when photographers pack up and go home (or haven't arrived yet); that time when the landscape is only lit by the sky, will often produce something special.

© 2024

In my element

Walking on a daily basis is no panacea, although it certainly has its health benefits. But many psychologists claim that exercise can also be addictive, and I'm beginning to see some truth in that. There are days - especially in poor weather - when I can't resist braving the elements, and roam the local coastline in search of a photograph. 

Maybe it's photography that is the real addiction.
 

© 2024