I wait a while because the sun has not yet peeped over the hills at the north end. The weather is dull, but I am hopeful that I will see the ball of fire that went missing in Skye last October! I set to work and decide to use intentional camera movement given the miserable conditions. It is no problem achieving the slow shutter speeds I need. I like this time of year on the loch because the reeds are less dense, and it is easier to capture movement and reflections on the water. The slender stems give an enhanced sense of fragility and vulnerability too. The less saturated colours also suit the “quiet” (Badger 2010) photographs I produce.
I decide to clamber down to the boggy ground around the edge of the loch and my boots soon get sucked down a few inches while I survey the scene. The reeds are taller than me and the sun catches the tops of their heads. They sway gently in the breeze.
As I walk further around the loch, I pick out some sparsely populated groups of reeds and mimic their shapes by moving the camera.
I check the images as I work and keep a careful eye on the exposure. The light changes constantly and it is important that I adjust my camera accordingly.
I walk the full length of the loch which is about two kilometres stopping frequently to pay attention to those small aspects of nature that few dwell upon. I have a new macro lens and I find some interesting lichen, tree bark and moss that I will return to another day.
I return with a spring in my step and feel good from the sun’s warmth on my face and spending time outdoors. The weather is set to be cold and windy for the next few days. As far as my practice is concerned, I have no great hopes for the images I have taken this morning but nonetheless, I am pleased to be working with my camera again and looking forward to doing more practice over the next couple of months – weather permitting!
Badger, G. (2010). The Pleasures of Good Photographs. New York, Aperture.