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  • White bunting adorned every street, and the tiny white flags buzzed in the strong Atlantic breeze blowing over the Canary Islands. In the hot streets the cooling effect of the wind was extremely welcome
    GD002059.jpg
  • This vent is the opening for super hot gases from the volcanic magma just two miles below the surface. Mud faces appear through the sulphur smelling steam on the wall opposite.
    GD001937.jpg
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  • Beautiful, rich coloured paint even considering the years of weathering in this baking-hot, arid location at Famara on the North West coast of Lanzarote in the Canary Islands.
    GD000632.jpg
  • A postbox nestles in the shade of a beautiful tree, and I loved the contrast between the red and the shades of green of the tree and windows and door in this historic building in Teguise town, Lanzarote
    Shades of Green
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  • A window blocked by stone in an historic building in Teguise town in Lanzarote
    A Ruined View
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  • Waiting, there is always waiting when photography is concerned. A partner waits. A Photographic Timeline.
    GD001464.jpg
  • In an almost deserted town, Teguise in Northern Lanzarote, it was the urban equivalent of the Mary Celeste, empty streets, shops with no one about, seats with no one on them and no sound of traffic. To me it was surreal but perfect. I loved the silence and the cool peaceful shade from the burning heat. Across the whole town little white flag bunting fluttered in the strong Canarian breeze.
    GD002058.jpg
  • Dusk haze from Moroccon trade winds, partially softening Timanfaya National Park (Fire Mountain), Lanzarote
    GD002061.jpg
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  • A dilapidated green wooden door in avery old house in Teguise market town in Lanzarote
    Green Door
  • There was a strange beauty in the massive urban sprawl of the hot city of Alicante in Spain, but mostly because of the contrast between it and the towering mountains in the thundery background.
    GD001643.jpg
  • Lockdown South Africa - Day 11 <br />
Massive drop in temperature today as summer ends. Torrential rain and howling winds so Gerard lit the indoor wood burning stove for the first time. It’s a solid cast iron beast but looks so wonderfully industrial. I loved the whole practical functionality of it, and of course raw flame, an element I’ve always been obsessed with.<br />
<br />
Lifting off one of the circular lids allowed a genie of fire to erupt and morph before my eyes. A burning hot couple briefly danced for me and I was lost in their embrace.
    AOP-32-GD002458.jpg
  • Born in Africa this young woman is at home where the wind-blown desert sands meet the cold Atlantic ocean. She feels at one with this place. She revels in the mixed sensations of the burning heat on her torso, gales tossing her hair and even the stinging of the sharp sand against her ankles. She hears the sound of heavy waves piling on the vast shoreline and she can hear Terns calling high in the sky above. Behind her, a tablecloth of swirling cloud builds over the mountains, marking the zone where the warm Agulhas Current of the Indian Ocean meets the cold Benguela current of the Atlantic. This is a vast and unforgiving landscape but it is hers and she owns it.
    Burning Hot in African Winds
  • As is the way with my days off these days, there is no rush ever. Jan works long days and even longer nights in an intensive care department and there is NO shift pattern at all to allow a person’s body clock to plan the week. Her need for sleep catch up is vital, so I have learned not to expect a 7am leap out of bed, and instead to respect her body clock readjustment time. It doesn’t stop me getting fidgety however if the light looks amazing, and the day is going by :-)<br />
<br />
It was Sunday however, and for Jan a rare Sunday off, so whatever! The weather forecast was for brightness, light cloud, zero chance of rain and plenty of sunshine later. We could do a lazy leisurely hill walk later with no worries about the elements or timings. I didn’t really absorb the additional information I skimmed through on the mountain weather forecast though, which indicated freezing level at summits and 45mph winds. Nevertheless we threw in our Paramo’s and Rab wind proofs just in case, along with two flasks of steaming hot coffee.<br />
<br />
At about 2pm we started the one hour drive towards the distinctive pyramid shaped mountain called Cnicht. I haven’t done it for couple of years and I love the mountain (approximately 2200 feet). I have done it from the very meandrous North side and also from the shadowy East facing quarry valley of Cwm Orthin, which was today’s plan as I wanted to show Jan the old quarry workings. However, as part of her prep for some bigger mountains in the next few weeks she said she’d prefer a steep ascent, so we headed for Croesor on the brighter West side instead. This was a first for me too which was nice, making our way up the classic West ridge.<br />
<br />
We decided to have a cuppa and a sandwich in the cafe in the tiny, sleepy hamlet of Croesor but the cafe was so asleep it was closed! I was really surprised, this being the Easter break and a car park packed with walkers’ vehicles. We started up the long, bouldery woodland track before exiting right up towards
    GD001736.jpg
  • As is the way with my days off these days, there is no rush ever. Jan works long days and even longer nights in an intensive care department and there is NO shift pattern at all to allow a person’s body clock to plan the week. Her need for sleep catch up is vital, so I have learned not to expect a 7am leap out of bed, and instead to respect her body clock readjustment time. It doesn’t stop me getting fidgety however if the light looks amazing, and the day is going by :-)<br />
<br />
It was Sunday however, and for Jan a rare Sunday off, so whatever! The weather forecast was for brightness, light cloud, zero chance of rain and plenty of sunshine later. We could do a lazy leisurely hill walk later with no worries about the elements or timings. I didn’t really absorb the additional information I skimmed through on the mountain weather forecast though, which indicated freezing level at summits and 45mph winds. Nevertheless we threw in our Paramo’s and Rab wind proofs just in case, along with two flasks of steaming hot coffee.<br />
<br />
At about 2pm we started the one hour drive towards the distinctive pyramid shaped mountain called Cnicht. I haven’t done it for couple of years and I love the mountain (approximately 2200 feet). I have done it from the very meandrous North side and also from the shadowy East facing quarry valley of Cwm Orthin, which was today’s plan as I wanted to show Jan the old quarry workings. However, as part of her prep for some bigger mountains in the next few weeks she said she’d prefer a steep ascent, so we headed for Croesor on the brighter West side instead. This was a first for me too which was nice, making our way up the classic West ridge.<br />
<br />
We decided to have a cuppa and a sandwich in the cafe in the tiny, sleepy hamlet of Croesor but the cafe was so asleep it was closed! I was really surprised, this being the Easter break and a car park packed with walkers’ vehicles. We started up the long, bouldery woodland track before exiting right up towards
    GD001737.jpg
  • As is the way with my days off these days, there is no rush ever. Jan works long days and even longer nights in an intensive care department and there is NO shift pattern at all to allow a person’s body clock to plan the week. Her need for sleep catch up is vital, so I have learned not to expect a 7am leap out of bed, and instead to respect her body clock readjustment time. It doesn’t stop me getting fidgety however if the light looks amazing, and the day is going by :-)<br />
<br />
It was Sunday however, and for Jan a rare Sunday off, so whatever! The weather forecast was for brightness, light cloud, zero chance of rain and plenty of sunshine later. We could do a lazy leisurely hill walk later with no worries about the elements or timings. I didn’t really absorb the additional information I skimmed through on the mountain weather forecast though, which indicated freezing level at summits and 45mph winds. Nevertheless we threw in our Paramo’s and Rab wind proofs just in case, along with two flasks of steaming hot coffee.<br />
<br />
At about 2pm we started the one hour drive towards the distinctive pyramid shaped mountain called Cnicht. I haven’t done it for couple of years and I love the mountain (approximately 2200 feet). I have done it from the very meandrous North side and also from the shadowy East facing quarry valley of Cwm Orthin, which was today’s plan as I wanted to show Jan the old quarry workings. However, as part of her prep for some bigger mountains in the next few weeks she said she’d prefer a steep ascent, so we headed for Croesor on the brighter West side instead. This was a first for me too which was nice, making our way up the classic West ridge.<br />
<br />
We decided to have a cuppa and a sandwich in the cafe in the tiny, sleepy hamlet of Croesor but the cafe was so asleep it was closed! I was really surprised, this being the Easter break and a car park packed with walkers’ vehicles. We started up the long, bouldery woodland track before exiting right up towards
    GD001735.jpg
  • As is the way with my days off these days, there is no rush ever. Jan works long days and even longer nights in an intensive care department and there is NO shift pattern at all to allow a person’s body clock to plan the week. Her need for sleep catch up is vital, so I have learned not to expect a 7am leap out of bed, and instead to respect her body clock readjustment time. It doesn’t stop me getting fidgety however if the light looks amazing, and the day is going by :-)<br />
<br />
It was Sunday however, and for Jan a rare Sunday off, so whatever! The weather forecast was for brightness, light cloud, zero chance of rain and plenty of sunshine later. We could do a lazy leisurely hill walk later with no worries about the elements or timings. I didn’t really absorb the additional information I skimmed through on the mountain weather forecast though, which indicated freezing level at summits and 45mph winds. Nevertheless we threw in our Paramo’s and Rab wind proofs just in case, along with two flasks of steaming hot coffee.<br />
<br />
At about 2pm we started the one hour drive towards the distinctive pyramid shaped mountain called Cnicht. I haven’t done it for couple of years and I love the mountain (approximately 2200 feet). I have done it from the very meandrous North side and also from the shadowy East facing quarry valley of Cwm Orthin, which was today’s plan as I wanted to show Jan the old quarry workings. However, as part of her prep for some bigger mountains in the next few weeks she said she’d prefer a steep ascent, so we headed for Croesor on the brighter West side instead. This was a first for me too which was nice, making our way up the classic West ridge.<br />
<br />
We decided to have a cuppa and a sandwich in the cafe in the tiny, sleepy hamlet of Croesor but the cafe was so asleep it was closed! I was really surprised, this being the Easter break and a car park packed with walkers’ vehicles. We started up the long, bouldery woodland track before exiting right up towards
    GD001734.jpg
  • As is the way with my days off these days, there is no rush ever. Jan works long days and even longer nights in an intensive care department and there is NO shift pattern at all to allow a person’s body clock to plan the week. Her need for sleep catch up is vital, so I have learned not to expect a 7am leap out of bed, and instead to respect her body clock readjustment time. It doesn’t stop me getting fidgety however if the light looks amazing, and the day is going by :-)<br />
<br />
It was Sunday however, and for Jan a rare Sunday off, so whatever! The weather forecast was for brightness, light cloud, zero chance of rain and plenty of sunshine later. We could do a lazy leisurely hill walk later with no worries about the elements or timings. I didn’t really absorb the additional information I skimmed through on the mountain weather forecast though, which indicated freezing level at summits and 45mph winds. Nevertheless we threw in our Paramo’s and Rab wind proofs just in case, along with two flasks of steaming hot coffee.<br />
<br />
At about 2pm we started the one hour drive towards the distinctive pyramid shaped mountain called Cnicht. I haven’t done it for couple of years and I love the mountain (approximately 2200 feet). I have done it from the very meandrous North side and also from the shadowy East facing quarry valley of Cwm Orthin, which was today’s plan as I wanted to show Jan the old quarry workings. However, as part of her prep for some bigger mountains in the next few weeks she said she’d prefer a steep ascent, so we headed for Croesor on the brighter West side instead. This was a first for me too which was nice, making our way up the classic West ridge.<br />
<br />
We decided to have a cuppa and a sandwich in the cafe in the tiny, sleepy hamlet of Croesor but the cafe was so asleep it was closed! I was really surprised, this being the Easter break and a car park packed with walkers’ vehicles. We started up the long, bouldery woodland track before exiting right up towards
    GD001733.jpg
  • It was baking hot, so hot the sand burned your naked souls. The cool Atlantic Ocean was the only escape but standing at the waters edge the rip was clear and the water deep . As wave after relentless wave crashed on this exposed West coast I would have to endure the midday sun for a short swim would have become a long and dangerous drift. The place was beautiful and spectacular nevertheless
    GD001620.jpg
  • After a hot sunny walk around from the cove at Porth Dafarch, we were confronted with this eerie, mist covered rocky landscape at South Stack. It was bizarre because everywhere else was just so hot and sunny. The sound of the foghorn helped to let us know it was lost in the mist!
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  • This amazing beach stretches for 18kms along the coastal edge of Walker Bay Nature Reserve. <br />
<br />
The sands are beautifully white and here you can see the characteristic morning fog slowly burning away to the left. <br />
<br />
The scene is idyllic and the water looks incredible, crystal clear azure seas, but heck the water was cold in January when it was at 15º. Most people were paddling only and I managed just fifteen bracing minutes before coming out needing a hot coffee! Yet the air temperature was already in the high thirties and the sand baking hot. I even managed to burn myself trying to warm up.
    GD002294.jpg
  • Christmas Day 2011 - instead of pigging out on Christmas dinners and excesses of booze, I did a two hour cliff walk on North Anglesey, and battled with massive buffeting gusts of wind blowing off the Irish Sea, and sea spray sweeping over the headlands. I found a partly sheltered cove in which to eat cheese sarnies and a mince pie, washed down with hot coffee. Amazingly the rain held off for the whole walk which was fortunate but I also saw some of the only glimpses of sunshine in North Wales that day, which backlit the huge seas crashing against the Anglesey cliffs.
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  • Sometimes the world is just too hot, and in the heat there is an urgent need for shade, for ease, for peace, for sanctuary. I find myself in need of more shade these days, but there is now less available than ever. We are destroying ourselves and I find myself fading.
    A Need For Sanctuary
  • SNIP from BLOG: "The sun briefly popped out splattering fire everywhere, and then turned to a hot red glow on the horizon, quenched after 15 minutes by a cold blue sea. Banks of clouds reared overhead and all light intensity disappeared. I walked at a fast pace back along the beach, much closer to the sand dunes this time, as the advancing tide had drowned the sand bars.".
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  • One minute the summit of Elidir Fawr was bathed in early Spring sunshine and the next the sky had darkened and freezing vapour engulfed us. However the rapidly swirling clouds formed the most beautiful shapes and the semi obscured sun created a backlit stage of theatrical movement as we drank hot coffee to keep warm.
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  • A tiny succulent plant survives tenaciously in this sun baked, hot and arid volcanic lava field, with Timanfaya (Fire Mountain) National Park in the background.
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  • SNIP from BLOG: "The sun briefly popped out splattering fire everywhere, and then turned to a hot red glow on the horizon, quenched after 15 minutes by a cold blue sea. Banks of clouds reared overhead and all light intensity disappeared. I walked at a fast pace back along the beach, much closer to the sand dunes this time, as the advancing tide had drowned the sand bars.".
    GD000898.jpg
  • Christmas Day 2011 - instead of pigging out on Christmas dinners and excesses of booze, I did a two hour cliff walk on North Anglesey, and battled with massive buffeting gusts of wind blowing off the Irish Sea, and sea spray sweeping over the headlands. I found a partly sheltered cove in which to eat cheese sarnies and a mince pie, washed down with hot coffee. Amazingly the rain held off for the whole walk which was fortunate but I also saw some of the only glimpses of sunshine in North Wales that day, which backlit the huge seas crashing against the Anglesey cliffs.
    GD001361.jpg
  • Something utterly surreal and very sad about this baboon on a baking hot beach at Cape of Good Hope, trying to access the drink in the washed up bottle.
    GD002377.jpg
  • SNIP from BLOG: "The sun briefly popped out splattering fire everywhere, and then turned to a hot red glow on the horizon, quenched after 15 minutes by a cold blue sea. Banks of clouds reared overhead and all light intensity disappeared. I walked at a fast pace back along the beach, much closer to the sand dunes this time, as the advancing tide had drowned the sand bars.".
    GD000897.jpg
  • The clouds pulled up and revealed the highest café in the UK, sitting atop Yr Wyddfa (Snowdon) in the glorious evening light. I envy those supping a hot coffee as I froze on a snowy wasteland a few miles away !
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  • On a baking hot day we drove into the sunset across the rugged high cliff tops of West Portugal. Jani sat in the van to call her Mam whilst I wandered down to the rocky cove. As I walked out to the low tide mark, i realised the beach was absolutely massive, miles long to the North and pure sea washed sand. The cliffs looked even higher when looking back at them. The day as usual had been clear blue cloudless sky, so it was an extra bonus to see delicate clouds gently sliding Southwards across the horizon. I had the whole beach to myself and was in seventh Heaven. <br />
<br />
However, when i turned to walk back to the car I noticed a young man curled up against the cliffs, clutching a beer bottle and looking most melancholy. I know that when I go into my dark patches, the beach becomes my salvation, my escape and my remedy - I empathised with this guy who had come miles to see the sunset on this spectacular and deserted coast.
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  • The cool morning fog had rolled in across the bay from the cold Atlantic currents and there was a chill in the air. The sea temperature was just 15º and although crystal clear azure water, it was only the brave few who ventured in. I’d be much happier being a Southern Right Whale in that ocean! <br />
<br />
Slowly the fog cleared and we ate lunch in scorching sunshine in a nearby cafe. One of many extremes in this fascinating country.
    GD002293.jpg
  • Within the expanse of hot white sand which stretched for miles here on the Skeleton Coast, a wonderful bubbling of hard-rock granite baked in the midday sun. Small weakneses in the rock had become fissues, divinding the stone hillock into strange and beautiful sculpted landscape. <br />
<br />
I tried walking on the exposed surface barefoot, to experience the textures and shape but my feet melted! The cold Atlantic Ocean in the distance had no cooling effect on this parched earth
    GD002270.jpg
  • A short burst of sunshine plays across a small hillside near the black-earthed landscape near Tinajo in central Lanzarote. Dark clouds hang over the cliffs of Famara and the clearly volcanic landscape forms the backdrop.
    GD002063.jpg
  • Volcanic landscape, Fuerteventura, Canaries. <br />
<br />
We rarely see any bad weather on this arid island but on this evening, black clouds rolled overhead and the first spots of rain steamed off the hot car windscreen
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  • The UK Coastguard Sikorsky S-92 helicopter from Caernarfon Airport, in rescue training off Llanddwyn Island. The air was around 1º before wind chill, so I can only imagine how much hot tea he drank after this half hour session of being dunked in the brine!
    GD002596.jpg
  • Stormy conditions at this usually calm, beautiful, summer beach, acres of sand under clear waters, usually!
    GD001363.jpg
  • Street lights at Gallt y foel in the town of Deiniolen, glow in a wintry, snow covered landscape, with the lowest slopes of Yr Wyddfa (Snowdon) in the background in shadow against a warm orange sunset.
    GD000874.jpg
  • Chaotic weather and stormy conditions over the west coast of Ynys Môn this evening, this summer! One minute, torrential downpours the next, blazing hot sunshine - utterly unpredictable other than for its unpredictability.<br />
<br />
Holyhead Mountain can be seen in the far distance whilst fast-appearing crepuscular rays scan the surface of the Irish Sea as the clouds race inland. It was wind-blown and spectacular and I revelled in the elements
    GD002519.jpg
  • No idea why the reservoirs were so green up here in the mountains, but they certainly created an incredible compliment to the clear blue skies and hot arid earth.
    GD002326.jpg
  • We arrived at the wreck location, as always in Namibia miles from anywhere. It was a beautiful summer morning, the sand so hot you could not walk barefoot. The wind had furrowed the beach into long undulating ripples, and amongst the patterns lay this small remnant of a shipwreck. It was surreal, a vast tract of soft white sand punctured by shards of rusty broken hull. I loved the incongruity of it all.<br />
.<br />
I shot two frames before out of nowhere a dark Toyota Landcruiser appeared. They could see me photographing but that made no difference. It drove towards me, passengers hanging over the side of the truck, beers in hand, shouting and jeering at me. Their tyre tracks carved up the beautiful white sand surrounding the wreck, ending the shoot there and then. A huge 20 stone fat man sat in an armchair buckled into the rear of the truck; two fat kids and three muscle-bound rednecks pulled faces as their truck circled around to come and carve up even more of the scene I’d been photographing. These were not the sorts of people you’d want to engage with, so I just packed up my camera and without any gestures of annoyance, made my way back to our van.<br />
.<br />
Thankfully I’d grabbed this frame before the morons arrived but the strange beauty, the vivid sense of history in wilderness, had been ruined for me. Such a shame that wherever you go in the world, there always at least one sad individual ready to spoil thing for others.
    GD002271.jpg
  • Warm perspiration chilled rapidly as low cloud over the summit of Moel Eilio obscured the evening sun. A gentle breeze forced cold vapour around our necks and up our sleeves. Occasionally we could see brilliant sunshine bouncing off the West coast of Anglesey but up here we were being kept from revelling in the beauty.<br />
<br />
Nevertheless the two of us drank hot coffee and ate chocolate biscuits, just sitting close to each other and loving the surreal magic of the conditions and our joint solitude up here on the mountain top.
    GD002216.jpg
  • Bright red bench atthe end of the pier in Beaumaris, Anglesey, with stormy winter weather over the Welsh mountains of Snowdonia and tje wind swept Menai Strait in the middle & far distance. The pier has been altered since this image to take a floating pontoon
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  • Nominated for 11th International B&W Spider Awards<br />
<br />
<br />
After a two hour slog up from sea-level valley to mountain top, loaded with photo gear & warm clothing, we were made to feel humble by a young woman climbing nude to the summit itself. Her pale soft skin contrasted with the sharp, rough rock but with such purpose, grace and balance, as if a slow motion dance, we could see her muscles working as she pulled, stepped into and lay-backed the arete before standing tall at the highest point to feel the cool mountain-top breeze caressing her hot skin. Below her, we huddled up and drank coffee and ate sandwiches.
    The Arete
  • “It’s the season of mist and fog, as remnants of warm air linger throughout autumn and into winter, caressing the cooling, softened landscape. Yet the weather can still be uplifting for those who are aware, for the gentle flow of condensed air carries resonant memories of sunny days, laughter, friends and cold wine. Ahead we look forward to the new life that spring brings and we build powerful and positive dreams for hot days to come and another clothes free summer. <br />
<br />
So winter is neither frightening nor negative, though understandably will be for some poor souls, but in it’s own way it’s a dramatic and wonderful cleansing, wiping the slate clean for the year ahead. For those of us lucky enough to be healthy & able, we should revel in the sensuous conditions of autumn and wrap ourselves in its elemental cloak to truly feel connected to the changing seasons.”
    Mist Touches
  • The biggest waves I've personally ever seen at Porth Tyn Tywyn and I have walked, swam and surfed there many 100s of times over the last 20 years.<br />
<br />
On this particular morning I had gone there with the idea of body boarding what was reported to be a brilliant swell for Anglesey. The day was clear with a strong offshore wind and just a few rapidly clouds. I parked up overlooking the dunes and the sea beyond and I could already see wave tips higher than the dunes (foreshortened perspective of course) and I knew it was going off! I walked down to the reef and two surfers were being thrown about in the white water before finally getting out to the back where a strong rip was pushing them Southwards towards the bay of the burial mound, Barclodiad y Gawres. It was funny in a way watching these guys go for the surf but spend so much time just trying to keep parallel to the shore. At this point, I just knew that I was not going in! I have not body-boarded seriously for years and having had a bit of an epic attempt at Sennen in Cornwall in January in big seas it was all too intimidating for this surf-unfit body !<br />
<br />
Of course the upside to that decision is that I could guilt-freely enjoy taking pictures of the surf instead and it was just so beautiful and powerful to watch. Thankfully the offshore breeze was keeping most of the sea-spray off my lens for a change meaning that I could continue to shoot without minute-apart lens cleans. <br />
<br />
The light on the sea in the bay was sharp and intense, and the lips of the waves were backlit and sparkling against the darker sky in the background. I enjoyed studying the bands of light and dark as they created monochrome Rothko seas, large ocean canvases of abstract landscape. After an hour or more of outgoing tide, the waves noticeably reduced in height to the point where perhaps I could have gone in, but with a full CF disc I decided to head for hot coffee back in the gallery instead - wrong decision ? Probably ! :-)
    GD001718.jpg
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  • Senglea, Great Harbour, Malta
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  • Morning sunlight through a lush green leaf canopy of woodland trees alongside the Menai Strait on Anglesey, Wales.
    GD000963.jpg
  • Chaotic weather and stormy conditions over the west coast of Ynys Môn this evening, this summer!  One minute, torrential downpours the next, blazing hot sunshine - utterly unpredictable other than for its unpredictability. <br />
<br />
Holyhead Mountain can be seen in the far distance whilst fast-appearing crepuscular rays scan the surface of the Irish Sea as the clouds race inland. It was wind-blown and spectacular and I revelled in the elements
    GD002517.jpg
  • Sitting on the reef watching an incoming tide, bathed in warm early Spring sunshine, we were filled with hope and optimism for the Summer ahead. We drank hot coffee and ate home made sugared almond cake from a lovely German friend of ours. <br />
<br />
As much as we enjoy the wild drama of the winter light and weather, we both crave the sunshine and warmth and a beach life. This was like an early injection of happiness.
    GD002173.jpg
  • Standing on a buttress high above Cwm Llachar in the Carneddau mountains of Snowdonia, even the patches of sunshine brought little relief from the bitter cold. The ascent to the dark cloud-shackled summit of Carnedd Dafydd was steep, ominous and icy, so in failing evening light we drank a last hot coffee and began our descent in gathering cold dusk
    GD002093.jpg
  • After a two hour slog up from sea-level valley to mountain top, loaded with photo gear & warm clothing, we were made to feel humble by a young woman climbing to the summit itself. Her pale soft skin contrasted with the sharp, rough rock but with such purpose, grace and balance, as if a slow motion dance, we could see her muscles working as she pulled, stepped into and lay-backed the arete before standing tall at the highest point to feel the cool mountain-top breeze caressing her hot skin. Below, we huddled up and drank coffee and ate sandwiches.
    Woman Ascending
  • GD000635.jpg
  • Generally we didn’t see much in the way of large wildlife as we travelled across the high open roads of Namibia, sometimes Ostrich, sometimes Baboons but here on the Skeleton Coast not much at all.<br />
<br />
As we watched volcanic hills to the right and acres of white sand dunes to the left, slip past us as we motored North along the baking-hot salt roads, I was quite taken aback to see a sudden movement off to our right. There were two Black-backed Jackals, one scampering about, skittish even, but the other almost motionless. We pulled the van over and waited a few moments to see if they’d be bothered by us, but nothing changed. I very gently stepped out of the van and lay on the burning ground so that I could steady the telephoto lens and also include some of the background hills.<br />
Although the active one immediately moved away after I exited the vehicle the other was clearly eating something and confidently remained in place. I was surprised that he’d found anything to eat in the deserted arid landscape, but knowing that they’d even eat spiders an scorpions I suddenly started worrying about what I was lying on! I couldn’t help but see them just as a dog, like a small Alsatian, and I had this urge to call it over and give it a stroke! No chance however, for as soon as I started to move from prone position, it began to walk slowly away. As I lifted the camera to take another pic it shifted further away again. It was clear my Doctor Doolittle dream was just that as soon they were just dots on the dusty horizon.
    GD002268.jpg
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Glyn Davies, Professional Photographer and Gallery

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