The weather is gradually improving on Skye, and I happened to see that mist was forecast for early this morning, so I set off before sunrise.  I have only been fortunate enough to witness and photograph mist on Loch Cill Chriosd once before, and so I was pleased to see that the forecast was correct.

The mist was swirling across the surface of the water in patches rather than blanketing the loch.  When I arrived, the light was still very flat but as I set up my camera the sun rose over the hill behind me and lit up the Red Cuillin on the western fringes.  The colours were vivid and intense and were casting interesting shadows and reflections across the water, providing a sense of the Being of the loch.  What lies beneath, on the surface and above these cold yet clear waters?  The entanglement of Being was apparent and open to those that dwell and look.

I work quickly, knowing that the mist might not stay around long.  I assess a number of vantage points as the mist settles in different places, if only for a short time.  I soon enter a creative zonal flow as I work intuitively with my camera making subtle changes to exposure settings – particularly shutter speeds and ISO settings to capture the drift of the mist and reflect the brightening light.  My aim is to provide a sense of the dreamy scene through some tightly cropped vignettes rather than a more traditional wide-angle landscape image that might satisfy the senses rather than providing a deeper sense of reality.  After an intense hour of photography, I feel myself re-emerge into conscious thought.  This sudden return to the world of sensory perception, soon informs me that my head, hands, and fingers are freezing.  I had picked up my hat and gloves along with my camera bag and tripod, but in my haste to get started, and capture what might be a short-lived opportunity of mist on the loch, I had left them in my open bag and had failed at any point to realise I needed to put them on!  Such was the intensity of the creative flow.

I am very pleased with the images I produced, particularly because they capture a different aspect of Being – an utterly still, calm surface ablaze with reflections of the loch’s entangled state with the Red Cuillin, and at other times, drenched in muted, pastel watercolour tones of the skies above.

I am pleased with these images because they reflect the many different ways of Being in one short period of time.  From the icy reeds standing tall, frosted by the overnight temperatures, to the fiery surface of the loch lit up by the rising sun.  And then to the gentle, calm and still waters reflecting the rose colours of the sunrise.  All captured with slow shutters speeds to reflect the stillness and quiet of the waters on this cold spring morning.