New (Cumulative)

In photography, as in other walks of life, a reassuring sense of nostalgia can be conjured up by re-visiting favourite moments from the past. This is, I think, one of the main reasons that we do photography - to create a ‘bookmark in time’ to a cherished place or special occasion, forever rekindling those otherwise fading memories. And so it is when compiling or viewing a portfolio of the type presented here.

Yet to remain truly vibrant, it’s also important that any portfolio or gallery is afforded space to grow. This helps to keep things alive and open the door to fresh experiences… to ensure that I still see myself as a Photographer at Work, in the spirit of Karen’s garden portrait from the 2020 lockdown. After all, the world is crammed full of compositions waiting to be discovered, their potential silently beckoning!

The current sub-section is designed to highlight these fresh experiences. And from a practical point of view, it allows the viewer to check for recently-added content without needing to review all of my other portfolio sections (which, let’s face it, is hardly likely to happen!). So while the images presented here may not be my greatest, they can at least claim to be my latest! ;-)

The content that follows is an archive to my rolling Portfolio (New) page, accumulating once-new images (from late 2022 onwards) as they were originally posted to this part of my website. The main sub-sections are presented in reverse chronological order (newest first).

“Photographer at Work”
by Karen Scott (May 2020)

Iconic Cornwall - A Taste of Kernow
(September/October 2024)

As the Autumn of 2024 came around, our latest family escape took us to a remote farmhouse deep in the Cornish countryside…

Cornish Curves… looking out from our holiday farmland to a particularly sinuous hedge,
rising above Stithians Lake (our local reservoir and bird sanctuary)

Swallowed by Nature… Cornish mine workings at Tyacke’s Shaft (near Penkellis)

The area is rightly renowned for its mining heritage, which transformed the Cornish landscape throughout the Industrial Revolution - a time when global demand for copper and tin spawned very big business. Yet this once-booming endeavour is now reduced to industrial relics, the county’s ruined Engine Houses offering iconic reminders of bygone days. And poignantly, even these are slowly but surely being reclaimed by nature… as illustrated by the tangle of trees in the above image of Tyacke’s Shaft.

Trewavas Mine

While Tyacke’s Shaft is discretely tucked away in the Cornish countryside, the mine workings at Trewavas Head (near Porthleven) stand proudly atop granite sea cliffs… conforming much more strongly to the idealised archetype. Here I’ll offer three different images of Trewavas, effectively variations on a single composition. The first is an appropriately ‘ghostly’ black & white (can you spot the ‘ghost coast’ phantom?), with the second featuring a fully formed apparition. Yet the third is presented as ‘best’… a 17-second exposure thankfully stripped of my earlier selfie shenanigans!

This was clearly a beautiful yet hostile working environment, right up until the mine’s abrupt closure back in 1846 - apparently, due to the sudden flooding of shafts beneath the seabed. The modern photographer’s clifftop plight seems trivial by comparison! :-0

Kynance Cove

Now that I’m focusing on the Cornish coast, I’ll stick with this theme and move to a special place on the storm-lashed Lizard peninsula. It’s a destination which captures the essence of Cornwall like nowhere else, even without featuring in an age-old Mann family anecdote (which I won’t go into here!). And if ever a name was begging to be recited in a pirate accent, it’s surely this one: Kynance Cove.

I was lucky enough to visit Kynance Cove just before sunset - and while sundown itself was nothing spectacular, I was there at evening high tide on the day after a storm. You might call it the magic of ‘Eventide’.

It’s not an experience to be easily forgotten - and if the National Trust car park hadn’t closed at 7pm, I’d probably be there still! :-)

Godrevy Island

The final afternoon of our Cornish holiday allowed an opportunity to delay the inevitable packing and instead visit Godrevy Cove, to photograph the nearby island of the same name. I hadn’t ever explored here before, although I’d regularly admired the island - and its prominent lighthouse - from across the bay on Hayle Sands.

And like Kynance Cove, Godrevy Island featured in old Mann family reminiscences of the area - only a minor connection, perhaps, yet enough to add that spark of motivation to an already alluring subject.

Others clearly felt the same way, as tourist boats seemed drawn to the island like magnets (despite the fact that this was a weekday in early October). A small yellow one can be seen in my first exploratory snap…

Having pottered around the shore of Godrevy Cove for a little while, it was only toward the end of my visit that I found what I was looking for: a chasm in the rocks which perfectly framed the lighthouse. Here was my opportunity to sign off the trip with something archetypally Cornish! :-)

I decided to smooth the water by applying a polariser and filter, giving a 30-second exposure which I hoped would lend a suitable degree of tranquility to my impromptu theme of ‘Light at the end of the tunnel’. Yet my pebbly tripod stance was awkward, while the exposure itself could be tricky (shooting as I was from a dark place into bright sunlight). I also wasn’t sure which zoom level would work best, and only had time for three shots before the rising tide forced a hasty retreat. But hopefully they came out OK - I’ll present all three below, and let the viewer decide which is preferred…

Light at the End of the Tunnel
(Godrevy Lighthouse, Cornwall)

Accidental Art and Inadvertent Abstracts
(Summer 2024)

If photography is an artform, it’s surely about more than the laborious choreography of planning, composing, shooting, post-processing…? Maybe randomness should also play a part? What you might call a healthy dose of serendipity?

This idea led to a curious (non-)project, prompted by my tenuous grasp of modern technology (if not modern art). During Jan 2024 I inherited a second-hand smartphone, in a battered old purple cover, and definitely didn’t know how to use it. Upon picking it up, I’d often find myself facing a strange setting, as if I’d handled the phone awkwardly and inadvertently activated something. And then one day, I realised that I had activated something. I’d accidentally taken a photo.

For the modern-day photographer in a hurry, what could be better? Here was fate doing it for me. All I had to do was wait for my mobile to misfire, download the inadvertent abstracts, and package it up as accidental art.

Well… it’s certainly accidental, but I’ll let the viewer decide whether it’s art. Are these images a serendipitous reflection of modern life? Or just a load of old Jackson Pollocks? :-0

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Island Time;
Back on the Beautiful Isle of Arran
(May 2024)

May 2024… time to slap on the suncream, slip on the Bermuda shorts, and make our annual pilgrimage to the beautiful Isle of Arran.

OK, so reality didn’t always live up to the fairy tale - I missed seeing a spectacular display of Northern Lights by one night, while the ensuing ‘golden hours’ were often closer to grey. Conditions varied from heavy rain to a near-heatwave (then back again), with neither extreme being ideal for camera-work. But surely that’s why we love landscape photography, especially on the west coast of Scotland… you never quite know what you’re going to get! :-)

Anyway, let’s forget any weather woes and dive straight in. For better or worse, here are a few modest highlights of our holiday…

(For additional text and images, please see the Arran section of my 2024 Gallery)

Late to the Lightshow…
No Northern Lights - though their absence reveals a Crescent Moon over Lamlash Bay!

*View from the Canyon - Eas Mòr Waterfall*

Morning Silhouette (West Kildonan Shoreline and Pladda) An early morning wander along our local Kildonan seashore (above and below) failed to yield a vibrant sunrise, although some of the resident wildlife were a little more colourful! :-) — Morning Silhouette
(West Kildonan Shoreline and Pladda)
An early morning wander along our local Kildonan seashore (above and below) failed to yield a vibrant sunrise, although some of the resident wildlife were a little more colourful! :-)

Grey Dawn
(Kildonan Awakes)

The Yellow Arch
(A Window on Bennen Head)

Back o' the Beach (West Kildonan Cataract) — Back o' the Beach
(West Kildonan Cataract)

Time and Tide (Ripples in the Sand, East Kildonan) — Time and Tide
(Ripples in the Sand, East Kildonan)

Although most of the images on this page are from dedicated Fuji X-T3 outings, I also wanted to include just a smattering of ‘holiday snaps’. As the saying goes, the best camera is the one you have with you - and while the following shots may not be the best technically, they wouldn’t exist at all if I hadn’t been able to ‘borrow’ Karen’s wee point-and-shoot… ;-)

*Passing Dolphin (from Corrie Hotel beer garden)*

Holy Isle dominates Lamlash Bay, just off Arran’s south-eastern seaboard. As the name suggests, this is a special and spiritual place, currently serving as a Buddhist retreat. Our Sunday day-trip to the island was made aboard the Sallyforth, courtesy of Lamlash Cruises.

The Holy Isle photos shown here were all taken on the move, documentary-style, while Mel and I traversed the island’s high point and returned along the western shore. After meeting a flock of wild Soay sheep, we concluded with a pilgrimage to the sacred cave of St. Molaise.

*Holy Isle High Point - Mel on Mullach Mor*

Pillar Rock Lighthouse (Holy Isle, Firth of Clyde) — Pillar Rock Lighthouse
(Holy Isle, Firth of Clyde)

Wild Soay Sheep (Holy Isle Shore) — Wild Soay Sheep
(Holy Isle Shore)

Writing on the Wall (Rock Art Simulacra) — Writing on the Wall
(Rock Art Simulacra)

Nature's Gallery (Picture of a Picture!) — Nature's Gallery
(Picture of a Picture!)

The Holy Fern
(St. Molaise’s Cave, Holy Isle)

Glen Rosa and Cìr Mhòr For my final couple of Arran photoshoots, I returned to the iconic mountain stronghold of Glen Rosa. Conditions were overcast... and although the cloud gradually lifted, the morning light did nothing special. No matter.. — Glen Rosa
and Cìr Mhòr
For my final couple of Arran photoshoots, I returned to the iconic mountain stronghold of Glen Rosa. Conditions were overcast... and although the cloud gradually lifted, the morning light did nothing special. No matter... it was wonderful just being there, at least until the midges of Binnein Wood sent me packing (with a flea in my ear)! :-(

The Lone Tree (Cloudy Morning, Glen Rosa) — The Lone Tree
(Cloudy Morning, Glen Rosa)

The Rosa Garden - Secret Bluebell Glade (Binnein Wood, Glen Rosa) — The Rosa Garden - Secret Bluebell Glade
(Binnein Wood, Glen Rosa)

The Tragic Faraway Tree;
One Last Night Beneath the Stars
(Darkest Devon, April 2024)

A ‘Tall Tree’ Tribute…

Late April brought the poignant news that the raggedy old tree behind our house - a local landmark and great wildlife haven - would get the chop after failing a medical.

A bittersweet ‘astro’ shoot was hastily arranged in our back garden to commemorate the tree’s last night standing proud beneath the stars... :-(

Devon Life
(A ‘Flying Visit’ to the Culm Vale Countryside - April 2024)

My Wellington ‘astro’ shoot aside, photographic plans were slow to take shape during the first few months of 2024. A wet and windy late winter/early spring didn’t exactly sell the great outdoors! Still, it was good to get back into the swing of things toward mid-April, when a sunnier weekend at last lured some bug-life to a fallen log in my local Devon countryside.

I must admit, I was feeling a little out of practice - and short on subjects - as I headed out over the fields. But if in doubt about finding an expansive landscape composition, it sometimes helps to think on an altogether smaller scale and reach for the trusty macro lens… ;-)

Finally Facing My Waterloo
(Wellington Monument - March 2024)

My opening salvo of 2024 depicts a stellar night out at the Wellington Monument, somewhere in the Blackdown Hills of darkest Somerset.

For a ‘sneak peek’ behind the scenes of this photoshoot - including an object lesson in how not to assemble a tripod - please see the unplanned confessional which opens my 2024 Gallery… :-0

The Obelisk
Wellington Monument, atop Somerset’s Blackdown Hills, is the tallest three-sided obelisk in the world.
It commemorates the Duke of Wellington’s victory at the 1815 Battle of Waterloo… where, as the song succinctly states, “Napoleon did surrender”.
Intriguingly, many of the background stars are so far away that we’re seeing them long before Napoleon - or his erstwhile beau, Joséphine - were starry twinkles in anyone’s eye! ;-)

A Walk Beside the Waves
(Hayle Sands)

The Coast of Kernow (Deepest Cornwall - November 2023)

It’s become something of a tradition for us to escape to the Cornish coast as autumn gives way to winter, the deserted (desert-like) beaches providing ample compensation for the dark nights and oft-stormy weather.

This year our sojourn took us to Marazion, a village near Penzance which is renowned for offering access to the dramatic tidal island of St. Michael’s Mount. With such a celebrated subject close at hand, my small number of ‘photoshoots’ were conducted straight from our front door, the coastline beneath allowing for a mini-study of Mount’s Bay.

This was also my first time trying out a new carbon-fibre tripod - a Benro Tortoise - so you may need to excuse the odd gratuitous long exposure! :-)

For my final shoot of the holiday, the desired sunset didn’t really materialise - so I instead searched for a distinctive foreground and stumbled across a boulder which I dubbed Neptune Rock, on account of its likeness to a face rising from the sea (or maybe I'd had one smuggled rum too many?).

Whether Neptune-related or not, it's curious that a magnitude 2.7 earthquake would have its epicentre in Mount’s Bay shortly afterwards, just hours after we’d returned home. Now that would have made an interesting test for the tripod! :-0

Pools and Patterns
(Hayle Sands)

A Break Between Storms (Morning Light, Mount's Bay) — A Break Between Storms
(Morning Light, Mount's Bay)

St. Michael's Mount at Dusk (Sun on the Harbour Wall) — St. Michael's Mount at Dusk
(Sun on the Harbour Wall)

St. Michael's Driftwood (Monochrome) — St. Michael's Driftwood
(Monochrome)

Fading Light, Mount's Bay (Neptune Rock and St. Michael's Mount) — Fading Light, Mount's Bay
(Neptune Rock and St. Michael's Mount)

Guardian of the Mount (Gathering Dusk, Mount's Bay) — Guardian of the Mount
(Gathering Dusk, Mount's Bay)

Scarduish
(Front elevation)

The Magic of Moidart (Western Highlands - September 2023)

I’ve titled this section The Magic of Moidart because that’s where we were based - a remote part of Moidart, in a cottage called Scarduish which nestled idyllically between craggy wooded hills and a scenic sea loch. Just around the corner was a ruined castle on a tidal islet, while eagles soared overhead and a herd of red deer would visit our garden at night (much to the astonishment of our doggies!).

Surrounded by all this beauty, local images of Moidart do indeed feature prominently in the selection below. However, it’s not all about Moidart - we would also venture north to Morar, east to Ardgour, south to Ardnamurchan, and even west to the enigmatic Isle of Eigg. Hopefully my captions will fill in any gaps.

As for the Magic part of the title… well, it was certainly magical being there. I’ll be content if just a small part of this magic (“not a lot!”) is conveyed on camera! :-)