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

At the ready...

Photographed in the early morning light, the stone arches at the western end of Bournemouth's Undercliff Drive date from November 1907; the year it opened. The spaces in between were available for use to the public at large, but in recent times they have become enclosed to serve the paying customers of a UK fast food restaurant chain.

© 2026

Urban crawl

There are some areas of towns and cities that can change considerably over a short period of time, while other aspects change almost imperceptibly. Many of those smaller changes are often masked by another business that replaces a previous one, but some are abandoned and left to decay, bearing testament to advancements in  technology. 

The increasing popularity of smartphones in the early 2010s had a major impact of the longevity of the above establishment, and those like it worldwide.

 

© 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

The Overstrand

Colourful private beach huts on The Overstrand, Boscombe beach, Poole Bay, in the warm glow of the rising sun.

Photographed with a 24 mm lens.

© 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

 

Going long

Built between 1962 and 1964, the fifty-three-metre high Albany flats dominate Bournemouth's East Cliff. Lit by the first rays of sunlight, they are the subject of today's lens: a 300mm telephoto.

© 2026

Occasionally challenged

Occasionally, I like to set myself a photographic challenge; whether it be taking pictures only of the same type of subject, or perhaps shooting at the same time in a twenty-four hour period for a week. This time I've decided to shoot exclusively with a different lens each day.

I'm starting the ball rolling with a 10.5 mm fisheye lens.

© 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

08:07 - 16:04

For the first time since I first picked up a camera in anger, I've managed to photograph the winter solstice sunrise as an event. Adverse weather conditions in the past have blocked the view, or life's minutiae has gotten in the way. It's also a good thing that I didn't trust any of the forecasts for this morning, as they all predicted either overcast skies or worse still, rain.

Technically speaking the solstice is a specific moment, and this year it occurs at 15:05 GMT. It also signifies the start of astronomical winter. The figures in the title are today's sunrise and sunset times at my latitude and longitude.

© 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