After taking the photo posted featured in “The Gates” I turned around to see the sun was bathing the lane and dried out crops behind me in the perfect golden light the Piedmont region is known for. My family were waiting for me to get back so we could go to dinner, but I decided to take a few more minutes to catch this shot.
The Victoria Falls during the dry season was an incredible experience. The gorge ripped open by the force of the Zambezi was clearly on display. We were able to walk across the top of the falls to swim in the Devil’s Pool and hang our heads over the edge, and I was able to take this photo of the rainbow born of the spray from the torrent just around the corner.
I enjoyed my time there so much that I’m planning on going back in January. This will give me the chance to experience the full power of the falls as it will be during the wet season. I’m also hoping to coordinate my visit with the full moon in the hope that I’ll get to see the lunar rainbow.
I uploaded a photo very similar to this one here. I don’t know why, but I wasn’t quite satisfied with it. I’m a lot happier with this version.
In previous posts I’ve mentioned that on our first full night in Iceland we set out to drive the full length of the southern coast of the Westfjords. I also mentioned that we didn’t make it. In theory it should have been possible. It was a four hour drive there. We’d spend two hours photographing puffins on the most westerly point in Europe, and drive back. We expected to stop occasionally on the way down and I actually had a couple of stops planned near the end of our journey.
On this ill-fated journey I realized that I had to rethink ambitious plans like these. The problem is that, in Iceland, unexpected photo opportunities appear frequently in whatever direction you head in. Today’s photo is an example of this. There are a lot of waterfalls in Iceland. There are a load of named, famous waterfalls, but there are even more beautiful small waterfalls like this one.
The next time I go, my plan is to take the ferry out to the puffins and drive back from there. This should guarantee we see what we missed last time. I’m determined to photograph some puffins.
In this shot, I’m stood atop the lighthouse featured in a number of earlier posts (here, here, and here). While set up to take this picture I got the scare of my life. It was about 3am and there was no one around. Then suddenly I felt the need to turn around. I spun around and discovered to my horror a man climbing through the hatch in the roof. I couldn’t help myself and a stream of expletives escaped my mouth. We spoke with him briefly. He was Icelandic but not from the area. He never really made it clear what he was doing up there. I left him up there after I finished taking the photos.
The weirdest part is, the only way to get into the lighthouse is via the path in this photo. As you can see, I had a good view of the only approach and was watching it very closely as I was photographing it. I didn’t see anyone approach the lighthouse. He just appeared out of nowhere. Come to think of it, this probably would have been a good post for Halloween night.
Why is it that wherever you go in the world, if are out in a remote area, with a great expansive view, people will create rock piles of various shapes and sizes? It’s an interesting phenomena. I’ve seen them in South America, Africa, and, most recently, Europe. I captured one of the rock piles I found in Iceland in today’s photo.
I recently spent 4 days in Florida visiting my girlfriend. My first two days were spent in Williston. It’s a beautiful area with moss draped trees punctuating fields for livestock. Unfortunately, I’d just done a lot of traveling in a short space of time and was completely worn out when I got there. As a result, I didn’t summon the energy to get the camera gear out until we’d made it to Tampa, where we decided to spend a couple of nights.
We stayed at the Grand Hyatt Tampa Bay and were given the option to stay in the resort area of the hotel which had a pool, tiki bar and table tennis. It was also where this interesting looking dock was located that I’d spotted on google maps. Our first morning there we dragged ourselves out of bed at sunrise and I photographed this dock from the beginning of the blue hour right up until the end of the golden hour. As a result, I’ve got a series documenting the subtle changing of colours from night time until daylight. The first of these photos is the Blue version, below.
I found this image of a fisherman in Zambia, with his dugout canoe, that I processed quite a while ago but never posted it. I think at the time I was going through a panoramic phase and decided I needed to post something that wasn’t in this format. Then, I forgot about this image. Upon finding it, I remembered I like it and that it should be online.









