Rarely is a city defined so clearly by one single feature in the way that Newcastle-upon-Tyne is defined by its river. The city’s history has been shaped by the river, especially by shipbuilding; and now that the ship-yards are largely lost to history, the life of the city, especially its cultural and social life, continues to flow from the banks of the Tyne. A favourite walk in the city is along the Quayside past the Tyne’s famous bridges.
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There are two ways to get to Taos from Santa Fe. There is the quicker (but still pretty) Low Road, and the more dramatically scenic and historically interesting High Road. This winds through the Sangre de Cristo Mountains through high desert, forests and tiny communities. On the way there are stories to be discovered, stunning landscapes to marvel at and picture-perfect churches to explore.
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One of the pleasures of a stay by the sea is an early morning walk on the beach. The waves lapping the shore, the sound of sea birds, a gentle breeze … a tranquil spot in which to recharge the batteries. But what most of us regard as a welcome break from our day to day lives is for others a place of work, and hard work at that.
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Please don’t ask me to pick my favourite landscape – it’s impossible. I love the drama of high mountain ranges, and the huge open skies of the desert; the haunting light that illuminates certain lands close to our poles, and grassy savannahs strewn with baobab trees; gentle green rolling hills, and roaring waterfalls.
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Any photographer knows that light is everything, and that the best light is often found at the beginning or end of the day. Sometimes you can plan to be in the right place at the right time, but sometimes it just happens.
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'Nature does not turn out her work according to a single pattern; she prides herself upon her power of variation.' Sometimes the most effective photographs of natural subjects (plants, animals, even entire landscapes) can be achieved by getting so close that the subject’s outline disappears.
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Battling across the dark grey stony beach, hardly able to stay upright in the wind, which was whipping grit into my eyes and cheeks, I wondered if it would all be worth it. But one look at the turquoise blue icebergs floating on the water to my left reassured me that it would be. And it was.
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Standing here you feel on top of the world. You are standing at a height of 2,000 metres above sea level. Below you see the road, little more than a track, that you are to follow, winding down through an almost other-worldly volcanic landscape.
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These hexagonal pillars look more man-made than natural. They are quite regular in size, creating the impression that they were somehow manufactured. In a sense they were, but by nature rather than man.
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Early morning, and the sun has just climbed above the volcanoes that encircle the lake. A fisherman in a rowing boat drifts slowly, checking the net that he hopes will have captured some fish overnight.
