One of my most treasured childhood memories is a walk with my father in a bluebell wood near my home.

I had been ill for what appeared weeks, experienced nothing but four walls and lost my appetite. Perhaps there were some signs of being on the mend when I showed an interest at my father’s suggestion of taking a walk in the fresh spring air but, I was yet to regain my appetite for food.

The memory of that walk and the blue carpet represented another magical experience that was to hold greater significance years later. As a child, the first experience helped me to find interest in food again and recover from illness. In adulthood, a few weeks before my father’s cancer finally extinguished what appetite he had for life, whilst walking through another bluebell wood, I phoned to check in on how he was feeling and to give thanks for my Birthday card. I suppose I knew there and then that it would be the last Birthday he would be around. He sang me Happy Birthday for the last time.

In The Bluebell Wood was created in camera in early May 2017 as a personal, emotional response to the happy childhood memory with my father.  It is broken down into the fluidity of feeling, movement, light and colour and appeared a fitting acknowledgement to the four years’ anniversary to his passing.






Sgwd Ddwli Uchaf (Welsh) is also known as Upper Gushing Falls.  It is a beautiful curtain waterfalls along the waterfalls walk in the Brecon Beacons National Park, Wales, UK.

The Sgwd Ddwli Uchaf is located on the Nedd Fechan and is one of three waterfalls along this section of the river. The falls has a drop of about 15 feet.

This image was captured as part of a series of waterfalls images along the route, during an early morning in May 2017.

I photographed the subject with a variety of shutter speeds with the aid of polariser and neutral density filters to extend the exposure time to personal taste. This capture is a blended version of two images – one captured for movement of the falls and the other, for smoothing out the river.


The Vitaleta Chapel Story

A visit to Tuscany was one of those must-do trips on my photo bucket list. After much deliberation and research, I chose to visit the Val d’Orcia region in May 2016 to explore its rolling landscape, villages and towns.

If one visualises atmospheric, fairytale landscapes, this is the location of rolling hills, photogenic farms, magical mist and sweeping tree-lined drives.

The Chapel of Our Lady of Vitaleta is a small sacred building, located on a hilltop on the road that connects San Quirico d’Orcia to Pienza. It wasn’t the easiest of subjects to locate on my second full day spent in the area. Perhaps for me, at distance, it was a sight that one could so easily blink and miss. Fortunately, the curiosity of seeing a car pulled up at the side of the road and a couple of tourists peering and pointing, guided my gaze in the right direction and there it was. However, I didn’t want to just look at a speck on the far horizon and wondered how I might be able to get closer. I didn’t have a detailed map with me and all I relied on was a rough idea of location and eyes to look for a road sign to an access road or track. This was easier said than done and I found myself driving up and down the main road between Pienza and San Quirico a couple of times before I noticed, what resembled a track and followed my nose eventually to pull in and continue the rest of the journey on foot to the rear of the chapel.

Although I had set out quite early, the morning’s sun had climbed to adopt a point in the sky that benefited the lighting of the field and architectural features of the rear rather than the front aspect as viewed from the road. I decided to treat the visit as a scouting mission to decide which aspects I could work with and make rough calculations for timing depending on the weather conditions. It was May, after all, and, after arriving at Pisa airport in the blistering sun, the next day was overcast with heavy showers and thunderstorms.

The weather during the first visit to the Vitaleta Chapel started out sunny but, as the day progressed, the cloud increased and by the afternoon there were showers.

Capturing The Vitaleta Chapel Image

I took a variety of images during my first visit – from the rear and, as the cloud cover increased, from the front. As a very popular location for photographers and tourists, it was to be expected that I would encounter other photographers there and, sure enough, as I made my way to the front facade, there were a couple of photographers with tripods. I had already accepted that to photograph this aspect (for the vision I had), the conditions were not really suitable as the cloud was not sufficient to mask bright, sun-filled areas in the sky. I would need to return another day and during the golden hour before sunset to get the kind of magic light I intended.

It was patience that enabled me to capture the image here.

On arrival at the location, there was a bank of cloud in the west that threatened to cloak the sinking sun and thus spoil the magic event. Unperturbed and hopeful, I set up the camera on the tripod, made a rough calculation of exposure and observed the countdown whilst looking to the west in the hope that the sun would slip out of a pocket in the cloud.

There was something quite mesmerising about the low, raking light of gold as it gradually slipped through the cloud and lit the chapel. There was a childlike sensation of magic and wonder – a reaction to a witnessed experience I shall never forget. At first, the facade appeared to become a shield of the most intense golden light – too bright to click the shutter. The right time would come but I had to wait just a little longer before the sun slipped low enough and less intense to make the first step of my vision a reality.

For further information on The Chapel of Our Lady of Vitaleta:


From cast iron structures to timber piles…

Swanage is a charming small coastal town in south-east England, UK.

The old pier (original Swanage Pier) was built between 1859 and 1861. It was used by stone quarries and all that remains of it are its timber piles.

Today the remains of the original pier are clearly visible from the second restored one.

This image was captured late June 2016.


The location of this image is Dovercourt, a small seaside town in Essex, England, UK. Its neighbour is the port of Harwich which is clearly visible from the promenade and beach where the famous cast iron lighthouses stand.

Trinity House erected two lighthouses in 1863 to guide ships around Landguard Point. With the two lighthouses (known as the high and low lights) aligned, they indicated the right course. They were in use until 1917 and after fell into disrepair. They were later restored during the late1980s. Nowadays the deep water channel is marked by buoys, both lighthouses have become historic landmarks of interest and subjects for photography.

It was the low lighthouse that caught my eye as I walked along the beach one day in October 2016. The strange, 8 legged structure appeared almost alien-like on the horizon and I was seeking a simple composition comprising this tall metal structure set within the fluid motion of sky and sea.

As I approached, the causeway to the low lighthouse was visible (as I had wanted and planned) however, the tide was on the turn and I knew it would soon reclaim the path, therefore, I had to work quickly to capture the images I wanted. It was my intention to record atmospheric blur of clouds as well as water but, there was not much cloud in the sky and conditions were bright. The strongest neutral density filter I had on my person was a 10 stop – enough to blur water but I wouldn’t get enough of a long exposure on the sky.

As a photographer, I have learned to go out with no high expectations – particularly where nature/weather is concerned. I can only plan for certain elements, the rest is in the lap of the gods.

‘Landing’ was one of my favourite images from the day and appears the perfect progression from ‘I Hear Those Voices’.

Further information on Dovercourt Low Lighthouse can be found:




Maggi Hambling’s memorial scallop shell to Benjamin Britten stands 12 feet high and is located on Aldeburgh’s shingle beach in Suffolk, UK.

The sculpture has proved controversial somewhat for some local residents but, as a visitor to the area during October 2016, I couldn’t help but make my own visual record of my visit.

This image was a long exposure captured during the afternoon of the 16th October in between interruptions of tourists and young children using it as a climbing frame.