The reeds on this part of the loch are sparse and appear to have much finer stems than the coarse and strong reeds closer to the church. The wind and rain often whip through the loch as squalls travel northwards. This morning is no exception, so I park the car close to my chosen location and protect my camera from the rain while setting up the tripod. The waters are dark and moody, reflecting the skies above. The reeds have lost much of their autumn vibrancy but the combination of grey and orange attracts my attention. As does the surface of the water and the dynamic reflections dancing under the stems.
I decide to try working with multiple exposures but am concerned that the extreme movement may cause the chaotic surface of the water to be rendered too smooth, rather than capturing the reality of the scene. However, after checking a couple of combined images I decide to continue.
After having taken a small number of shots, the rain starts to fall, and I focus on the disturbance in the surface of the water, its inky pallor, and the point where the fragile stems sink beyond my view and the reflections emerge. Some of the images I take resemble many I have taken before but I realise that my work is improving, and the subject and spatial persistence is paying off, and the familiarity and intuitive skills in using my camera enable me to work efficiently and effectively.
In spite of the bad weather, I enjoy my work and feel a great sense of achievement in producing some good and different images. And, being out with the reeds in a howling gale gives me a much clearer sense of what it is like to be subject to all that Skye’s climate has to offer – the true essence of Skye.