There are some places that stay with you forever, whether you spend just a few hours there or many days. Places that almost haunt you. Places you long to return to some day. Sometimes you fulfil that longing and return, maybe often. And sometimes you never go back, but never forget.
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Christiane Ritter spent a winter in the harshest conditions that Svalbard can offer. Living in a tiny hut with her husband and another trapper, but sometimes left alone there for many days. Constant darkness, cut off from the world by snow and ice; her Arctic was not my Arctic. But I think editing some of my photos in black and white has helped to emphasise what sense of bleakness I did find in this stunning environment.
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The Arctic is a magical place, wild, bleak, hauntingly beautiful. It is also, surprisingly perhaps, full of colour. However there are plenty of scenes that lend themselves to black and white photography too.
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Who hasn’t been mesmerised at times by the sight and sound of the sea? Watching the movement of waves, whether on the shore or from a ship, can be almost hypnotising, or so I find.
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Although all black and white photos are monochrome photos, not all monochrome photos have to be black and white. Monochrome comes from the Greek monochromos meaning ‘having one colour’. But why shouldn’t that one colour be green, beige, or orange? Or for that matter, grey, red or blue?
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Our homes often tell the world something about ourselves, especially their exteriors. How often have you looked at a house and drawn some sort of conclusion about the people who live in it? Most obviously, we can tell if they are neat and tidy, or messy. We can tell if they favour bright colours or neutrals.
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I have many special memories of Japan. The scent of incense rising before a shrine. The serenity of a temple garden. The care taken to ensure that everything, from a gift box to a manhole cover, is as beautiful as it can possibly be. But one colour dominates all of these memories: red.
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The short but beautiful Loboc River winds its way through lush scenery in the heart of Bohol Island. Its banks are lined with dense forest, broken here and by clearings with simple houses. Its waters are crystal-clear and emerald green. Unsurprising then that it has spawned a significant amount of tourist activity.
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Why fly for the best part of a day or more and spend good money just to sit and see nothing of the country you’re visiting? Yes, the weather may be better than if you were sitting around at home, and a dip in the sea is fun, but to me it is a waste not to get to know the culture, the people, the history, the food.
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I confess I have never been one to climb mountains, and certainly not these days! But I am inspired by the sight of them and by all the wonders of the world’s wilder places. And where better to see some of these than in a national park? I’m a particular admirer of the US national parks system, which owes much to the campaigning of John Muir.
