Jean De La Bruyere, French philosopher, said that, 'We come too late to say anything which has not been said already', but I am hopeful that I am better late than never.
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No two skies are the same, and no single sky stays the same for long. Maybe that’s why, as photographers, we are so drawn to capture them? An ever-evolving, ever captivating subject that is available to us all. We only have to look up!
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When the sun is low in the sky we may feel its heat a little less, but we see it more clearly. The glow of early morning, or just before sunrise, adds warmth to our images. They absorb and reflect its light, taking on a glow of their own.
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How do you photograph silence? Photographing a sound seems challenging enough, being invisible; but the absence of sound even more so.
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We’d planned to spend our last day in Pokhara taking it easy. Swimming in the beautiful hotel pool, a walk by the lake, maybe a bit of shopping. But some things can’t be missed, and surely sunrise over the Himalayas is one of those things?!
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We got up at 4.45 to go and watch the sunrise over the Himalayas - so worth it!
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It is a long while since I did a colour challenge, but I love the excuse they give me to rummage through my archives. So I’ve pulled together a selection for Terri’s Sunday Stills challenge this week. Her chosen colour is apricot, which I found a little hard to pin down. Is it orange? Is it pink? Is it maybe peach?
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Somehow, getting up early to watch a sunrise is so much easier when travelling. Of course it helps that the setting is usually both more beautiful and more interesting than the rooftops of our London suburbs above which we would normally see it rise.
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Every ancient mythology placed significant focus on our sun, recognising it as our essential source of light, heat, and life. Without it we would not exist, nor would anything on this planet. Today we understand the science behind the phenomenon, but to the ancients the reappearance of the sun each morning after the hours of darkness must have seemed like a daily miracle.
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Early morning by Lake Atitlàn. A lone fisherman drifts past, checking his lines. Volcanoes dot the horizon. In the distance a small motorboat speeds past; empty now but likely to be full of passengers when the lake’s ferry services start up soon. The jetties too are quiet, waiting for the lakeside villages to wake up.
