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  • A crystal clear, calm lake, Llyn Cwm Bychan,  sits beneath the Rhinogydd hills, from where the Roman Steps lead up over a col, and down into the valleys beyond. It is thought however that the 'Roman' steps may be more of a Drover's Path than Roman thoroughfare?
    GD001470.jpg
  • Where surfers go for huge left handers in stormy conditions, today was utterly calm, serene almost, near silent under the soft blanket of grey, gently backlit by a weak sunshine.
    GD001694.jpg
  • Mirror like lake surface at sunset at Llyn Alaw in North Anglesey.
    GD000059.jpg
  • There are some images that really should be video, not stills. I think maybe this is one of them. I like the image but only because of my memory of the event; sheets of sand were lifting in the gale and blowing at high speed towards me. The stream was almost gurgling as it tumbled to meet the sea and a flock of geese were chatting to each other as they dabbled in the pebbly sand pools. There was so much going on and so much to hear that I'm not sure any still image begins to describe the beauty of it all. <br />
<br />
I have a feeling that I really need to start shooting 'moving stills', not video as such, just still frames where the world moves within the frame. To share my experiences with others, I feel there are occasions where extra information is needed, audio & movement at least. Now HOW do I record & synchronise the sounds of my scene with the camera - a whole new world of learning & I'm not sure I have enough years left to learn!
    GD002597.jpg
  • Still hundreds of kilometres from the coast but I still felt a sense that I was nearing the ocean, I’m not even sure why; perhaps the subtly changing light or wind direction or perhaps just that intuition you have when you’ve been raised near the sea. <br />
<br />
The earth was rich and warm-toned here, lots of red and yellow soils and an increase in vegetation growing on it. There was a gentle breeze but the air was still in the mid 40°s. <br />
<br />
One of the downsides to distance travelling, is that there is years’ worth of exploration to do even within a small area but we were eating up 500kms or more each day - so much space, so little time.
    GD002283.jpg
  • Selected Print for the IN:SIGHT (Washington Green) New Artists Competition 2015<br />
<br />
"I was fascinated by the multitude of different colours in the rock and the natural uterus shape within it's folds. The veins of rock are feeding the womb and the fact that life itself was born out of molten rock, is still mind-blowingly incredible.<br />
<br />
There is a melancholy about the foetal position of this ageing man. He perhaps represents many for whom hope about the future, the sense that we have some important role on this planet, will maybe never be realised. We are still waiting to grow and be nurtured even in later life. <br />
<br />
As a species, we seem to have learned little about how to live at one with the planet, the planet that gave us life and without which we do not exist. Ultimately, perhaps all we ever have are wild dreams and a tenacious need to feel relevant during this blip on earth we call life"
    In the Beginning
  • Having done a picture delivery in Northern Anglesey, I was on my way back down the A55 when I decided to turn for the coast, just to get some fresh air. I found myself on the Rhosneigr road and my heart was light. Mine was the only vehicle in the sand-dune car park and pools of rainwater transformed the normally gritty rutted surface into rather beautiful patches of bright sky.The wind was bitter, still blowing in from the North West and today I only had trainers on, so no risky teetering about on wave washed rocks for me.<br />
<br />
The recent gales and big tides had deposited tonnes of dead brown seaweed over most of the shelving beach, but the outgoing tide revealed a beautiful sandy stretch at low water mark. The waves had decreased considerably today but it was still choppy in the strong cold breeze and the waves though low, were still powerful enough to launch themselves explosively up the shingle. Yesterday in the blazing late afternoon light, there was a smoothness to the foam-covered beach but today, there was sharpness, a contrast and a new brooding weather front overhead. My fingers froze whenever I removed them from my shooters-mitts and I put two hoods on to keep my head warm. I negotiated my way up onto the reef via a series of bizarre-to watch, core-stabilised ballet movements, tripod over my shoulder and rucksack swaying heavily with each leap. I found somewhere I could stand securely and just watched the wave performance below me. <br />
<br />
The sunshine remained clear and intense for quite a while, even though the cloud front appeared keen to obscure it, and the light danced on the waves in a bright avenue ahead of me. Soon though, the light subdued and the rain started so I made my way back to the van and on to the gallery to work. I really enjoy these spontaneous moments when you find yourself excited and stimulated by someone or something unexpected. I felt alive and captivated, if only for a brief hour.
    GD001710.jpg
  • Nominated for 11th International B&W Spider Awards<br />
<br />
Innocence in a dark world where being nude outdoors is seen as sinful. That fact that she was conceived by two naked people; born into the world naked, from her mother’s naked body seemed not to have a bearing on her freedom to enjoy this most natural state. As a young child she would run carefree on the open beach, delighting in not having to wear clothes. She saw other children happily playing naked there, equally without sin - just joyful, smiling and friendly - all enjoying an intimate natural connection to the amazing world that they had been introduced to.<br />
<br />
But as her body developed and her breasts grew, she was expected to cover up. The world now saw immorality in her naked maturity; her nudity became frowned upon; people couldn’t bear to acknowledge her new sexuality or even gaze upon her natural form, fearful of their own sexual confusion and self-control. Her beautiful body must always be covered up, never revealed to others. The incredible and life affirming experience of being naked outdoors had become dirty and immoral – both her body and her real character were now hidden.<br />
<br />
Up here on a hillside however, a bright light appeared, slowly burning through the heavy clouds and she found herself nude. She felt the short grass beneath her feet and gentle sunshine on her back as she stretched her naked body once more, revealing herself completely to the earth, the sky and the elements. She stood on tiptoes, aching to be lifted upwards. She wanted to show the world that she was still alive, still innocent, even in her naked form. There was a discernible aura around this woman and I sensed her natural existence had just been spiritually validated.
    The Revelation
  • A delicate girl perches bird-like in the arms of an old tree.<br />
<br />
She never really knew her mother, tragically torn away from her when she was no more than a baby.  But in a way, her mother still exists within every breath of her beautiful daughter. They were always connected; the blood and genes still flow and will continue to do so as mother becomes grandmother and daughter becomes mother.<br />
<br />
The strength of the tree is as much in its roots as its wide trunk and thick branches. Even though twigs will break off and beautiful leaves fall to earth, the lifeline continues. The tree appears similar, even after the wonder of a million new leaves but that same original life flows into every one.<br />
<br />
She likes it here, even in the bare nakedness of the tree’s winter form. She understands time. She can feel life beneath her feet and soon she will feel life within her womb. She knows that despite appearances, life goes on and her mother is always with her.
    In Mothers Hands
  • Whilst brave medical staff were tenaciously trying to keep Covid patients alive on the front lines, there were also teams of people in the background tirelessly working to keep the hospitals functioning and all NHS staff fed and watered. Many patients still needed meals and of course bedding and so on all still needed cleaning. <br />
<br />
These teams didn’t get the same public recognition as front line medical staff but they are key workers in their own way, and a vital part of the NHS team. It’s easy to forget that even those washing pots and pans are essential, and came to work throughout the pandemic, often working in relatively close working environments, and all facing the potential risk of contracting Covid whilst doing so. <br />
<br />
The pandemic, if nothing else, has perhaps highlighted how many brave, hard-working people it takes, to fight a battle of compassion and care. <br />
<br />
From my exhibition series for Betsi Cadwaladr Health Board, via Betsi Research & Innovation team.<br />
<br />
The brief was NOT frontline action, but the way hospitals & staff have adapted to cope with the crisis, from PPE to social distancing & also those vital behind the frontline workers essential throughout the crisis to support frontline NHS staff. <br />
A selection of my images will be printed by me to form a small touring exhibition open to the public later in the year hopefully. In the meantime, there will be an online gallery showing a larger range of the images I've taken.
    The Wash Up - Catering never stopped
  • Honourable Mention in the 13th Black & White Spider Awards 2018<br />
<br />
This is a deserted mining town in Western Namibia. In 1909 diamonds were found here and an industrial hamlet developed. Since then however diamonds are mostly found elsewhere and so this place went into decline. The small industrial complex is forever fighting to remain above the gale-blown desert sands but it’s still an incredible place to visit, as so little has changed at all since the early twentieth century. It’s quite eerie standing inside the large derelict buildings, the wind literally howling through the broken windows and doors, sand-dunes visibly creating within the broken interiors as you watch
    GD002289.jpg
  • Amazing coloured Precambrian pillow lavas remain hard fingers of rock pushing into the soft sand and battering Irish Sea, here on a tiny island off the main island of Ynys Môn (Anglesey). <br />
<br />
The lighthouse (Twr Mawr)  is no longer used but it's presence is still a useful navigational mark for mariners.
    GD000527.jpg
  • I had spent the afternoon surrounded by thick hill fog on the summit of Mynydd Mawr this winter, and the wind was bone chillingly cold. On the col between Mynydd Mawr and Moel Tryfan frozen lakes were surrounded by deceptively warm looking grasses, intensified further by the pinks and mauves up-lighting the low clouds over Nantlle. In reality everything was crunchilly icy and the grasses seemed like they would snap when you touched them, but amazingly, under the thick layer of pool ice, life was still surviving in the darkness.
    GD001174.jpg
  • As a landscape photographer I spend most of my time in wild windswept natural landscapes but on an inescapable detention in London I looked at the things about me which still represented a 'form' of landscape. Objects, light and features with which I could connect as someone needing nature to mentally exist. The natural deciduous process in the tree, the sunlight and the wind, allowed me to briefly connect.
    GD001920.jpg
  • There was one particular location which seemed to be ‘going off’ in surfers terms anyway, a point where even the smallish waves were still powerful enough to slam the small cliff buttresses and send spray skyward, but this same spray was voluminous and very wetting and in itself is problematic for photography as the lens gets covered in seconds not minutes, and in this light every drop on your lens becomes a backlit orb ! I studied the short reef in front of me and calculated where the waves would cover, finding a dry pinnacle on which to set my tripod, an item of equipment that was imperative today. I stood smugly on my dry fortress and waited for the waves and light to work together and shot perhaps four frames of waves I thought would deliver the results foreground and background but then a white wall started to approach me ! My guts revolved as one exceptional wave stood out from the sets and it came from a different angle too. The speed seemed faster than the rest - it wasn’t - but in my fear it was ! There was nothing I could do but brace myself as it rose up over the rocks and simply pushed past me like a mini Tsunami reaching my thighs!!!! The force was strong [Luke !] but the tripod and my legs remained firm against the push and thank God, because if not I would have fallen backwards into a small gully and whilst I would not have drowned I would likely as not have injured myself and lost £10K of camera gear ! The wave exploded in laughter as it died in the shore and the next waves smiled at me as they strolled past. Thing is, I got the shot boy ! :-) MY Paramo Cascada trousers and my Asolo mountain boots meant that incredibly, I didn’t get wet at all, I could have been wearing a wetsuit !
    GD001707.jpg
  • A hillside tree is sillouetted by dramatic sunlight reflecting off the vast bay of Traeth Coch, (Red Wharf Bay) which at low tide reveals a pattern of sand cusps in the wet sand which reflect the bright sunshine. Small figures at the water's edge on the shoreline show the scale of this beach. <br />
<br />
Following a specific location request from one of my customers, I found myself (almost) lost outside Llangoed on a warm late summer's afternoon. The sunshine back-lit the leaves of lush overgrown lanes as Cara Dillon sang to me in the front of the van. The hedgerows literally brushed past me as I ventured into narrower and narrower pathways, crows giving buzzards a temporary reprieve as they laughed at my black VW squeezing it's way out towards the bay.<br />
<br />
The shallow beach at extreme low tide creates huge cusps of sand and water, resembling textile designs from the 1960s! The vicious and burning intensity of the light on the retina was not from the sun itself but from it's reflection on the wet sand. Although I tried to compose using peripheral vision I still was left temporarily blinded after shooting some frames.<br />
<br />
Of course the contrast between the sunlit sand and the dry areas surrounding, meant the contrast was of the scale. To me, this was wonderful though, for just as looking towards the light blinded me, I found the fake shadows to be a beautiful and textural contrast, absolutely stunning.
    GD001010.jpg
  • Dramatic sunlight against ominous dark skies threatening very heavy rain moving over the Isle of Anglesey. The beach in the foreground is the vast Red Wharf Bay (Traeth Coch) which at low tide reveals a pattern of sand cusps in the wet sand which reflects the bright sunshine. <br />
<br />
<br />
Following a specific location request from one of my customers, I found myself (almost) lost outside Llangoed on a warm late summer's afternoon. The sunshine back-lit the leaves of lush overgrown lanes as Cara Dillon sang to me in the front of the van. The hedgerows literally brushed past me as I ventured into narrower and narrower pathways, crows giving buzzards a temporary reprieve as they laughed at my black VW squeezing it's way out towards the bay.<br />
<br />
The shallow beach at extreme low tide creates huge cusps of sand and water, resembling textile designs from the 1960s! The vicious and burning intensity of the light on the retina was not from the sun itself but from it's reflection on the wet sand. Although I tried to compose using peripheral vision I still was left temporarily blinded after shooting some frames.<br />
<br />
Of course the contrast between the sunlit sand and the dry areas surrounding, meant the contrast was of the scale. To me, this was wonderful though, for just as looking towards the light blinded me, I found the fake shadows to be a beautiful and textural contrast, absolutely stunning.
    GD001011.jpg
  • On a hillside stinking of goats, and the sound of their bells clinking amidst the clucking of penned hens, we came across this large olive tree, before the hillside dropped to the sea...I was fascinated by the way some olive trees seem to exist quite apart from others. They grow large and strong but are still lonely. I haven't rationalised WHY but this tree became a metaphor for many issues in my life at the moment,not the least being solidity and security of life on the land, whilst endlessly staring at the escape and distance of the ocean. The two are important to me and this tree symbolises being torn between them...Apart from that, it just felt SO Greek :-)
    GD000845.jpg
  • "I was off the beaten track amongst acres of dark, ancient trees. As is often the case in these environments, it's possible to 'sense' clearings in the forest simply by watching out for changes in illumination. These open windows burn with light from the skies above so I headed in that direction. She was lithe, sensuous and beautiful, basking on a lichen-covered rock. She luxuriated in the contrast between the cool stone beneath her arched back and the warmth of afternoon sunshine bathing her loins.<br />
<br />
She was alone in her own space, far from the multitudes, simply enjoying the wonder of the nature around her.  Nothing concerned her for she was the apex creature in this world. A Stonechat chirped in the distance and two Ravens called to each other in flight above. Tiny summer flies moved silently from shadows to light and the sound of bees collecting pollen, hummed in the still air.
    The Lioness
  • Really lush and varied vegetation on the mountain tops of the Keurbooms Corridor that connects the Garden of Eden section of the Garden Route National Park to the Tsitsikamma National Park section. NE of Knysna.<br />
<br />
As we climbed higher into the mountains the sunshine disappeared and a welcome cool cloud surrounded us. The vegetation up here was incredibly varied and abundant. Around this corner I ended up standing on a crossroads surrounded by wild Baboons as I was pre-occupied with the ‘Calling the Herd’ sound sculpture by Strijdom van der Merwe.<br />
<br />
It is sad that this corridor from Knysna to Addo used to be used by 1000s of elephants, but since colonisation they have all have been hunted to near extinction in these amazing valleys, that are otherwise still rich in biodiversity. There are no elephants left wandering this area and the Knysna elephants are no more. The ‘death warrant’ was issued and carried out on the tiny remaining population by ruthless hunter Major Pretorius, but even the British Royalty including the Duke of Edinburgh spent days hunting and killing these amazing animals.
    GD002244.jpg
  • After a demanding, muddy 7 mile walk along the Cornish coast in mid winter, we finally arrived at our destination of Pra Sands on the South coast of Cornwall. Although dark clouds still encompassed us, a dramatic break in the cover allowed an evening sunset to burst through, turning the world shades of pink and purple. <br />
<br />
By the time we had walked the length of the beach to our van the evening had lost all of it’s colour and the rain arrived.
    GD002126.jpg
  • Sea Pink (Thrift) glows in the evening sunlight at the edge of the churchyard of the 13th Century, Anglican, Eglwys Cwyfan (St Cwyfan's Church), not far from the small village of Aberffraw on Anglesey's West coast, at one time stood on the mainland coast but over the years, the sea has eroded the surrounding land leaving it stranded on it's own little island. Services are still occasionally held here but times are tide dependent.
    GD000719.jpg
  • An expansive Braint Estuary, Llanddwyn, Isle of Anglesey, at mid tide still exposing acres of sand just a few centimeters below the surface. The sea lies beyond the range of sand dunes in the distance, as do the hills of the Llyn Peninsula and the well known 3 peaks of Yr Eifl on the mainland.
    GD000500.jpg
  • The 13th Century, Anglican, Eglwys Cwyfan (St Cwyfan's Church), not far from the small village of Aberffraw on Anglesey's West coast, at one time stood on the mainland coast but over the years, the sea has eroded the surrounding land leaving it stranded on it's own little island. Services are still occasionally held here but times are tide dependent.
    GD000815.jpg
  • Nominated in 10th (2017) International Colour Awards (Fine Art category) <br />
<br />
Field drainage water pours out through a water channel into the Irish Sea here at Porth Cwyfan. The 13th Century, Eglwys Cwyfan (St Cwyfan's Church), not far from the small village of Aberffraw on Anglesey's West coast, at one time stood on the mainland coast but over the years, the sea has eroded the surrounding land leaving it stranded on it's own little island. Services are still occasionally held here but times are tide dependent.
    GD000820.jpg
  • Lush Spring flowers grow amongst fresh new grass on the tiny island supporting the small church of Eglwys Cwyfan, near Aberffraw, Anglesey, North Wales. Services are still held in this church but are tide dependent.
    GD001926.jpg
  • Newlyn harbour in winter. between heavy rain showers. The whole fishing fleet seemed to be in this still active Cornish fishing harbour. Penlee Lifeboat a Severn-class 17-36 "Ivan Ellen" (on station 2003) is moored alongside the pontoon.
    GD001870.jpg
  • Alone on a deserted beach - paradise. Thank God there still remain places here on this small Isle of Anglesey where you can escape the crowds and be at peace. The tide was dropping, sucking water out of the sand bar and with it the light reflections. A central core of light pulled me into the water, into the deep and into happiness.
    GD000948.jpg
  • Dramatic sunlight reflecting off the vast bay of Traeth Coch, (Red Wharf Bay) which at low tide reveals a pattern of sand cusps in the wet sand which reflect the bright sunshine. <br />
<br />
Following a specific location request from one of my customers, I found myself (almost) lost outside Llangoed on a warm late summer's afternoon. The sunshine back-lit the leaves of lush overgrown lanes as Cara Dillon sang to me in the front of the van. The hedgerows literally brushed past me as I ventured into narrower and narrower pathways, crows giving buzzards a temporary reprieve as they laughed at my black VW squeezing it's way out towards the bay.<br />
<br />
The shallow beach at extreme low tide creates huge cusps of sand and water, resembling textile designs from the 1960s! The vicious and burning intensity of the light on the retina was not from the sun itself but from it's reflection on the wet sand. Although I tried to compose using peripheral vision I still was left temporarily blinded after shooting some frames.<br />
<br />
Of course the contrast between the sunlit sand and the dry areas surrounding, meant the contrast was of the scale. To me, this was wonderful though, for just as looking towards the light blinded me, I found the fake shadows to be a beautiful and textural contrast, absolutely stunning.
    GD001009.jpg
  • An icy cold but beautiful day in the snowy mountains of the lower Carneddau. The walk which we planned to finish in 5 hours had to be shortened drastically as thick snowdrifts made progress unbelievably slow. We cut out two peaks just below the summits, to save time, but still ended up on dangerous unconsolidated snow which hid treacherous ankle snapping sinks into streams below, as we headed down into the Aber valley in near darkness. Lessons to be learned for sure.
    GD001388.jpg
  • I love the way the virgin snow of the drift seems to funnel upwards like an ice cream cone before exploding outwards across the sky in a 180º spread. <br />
<br />
It was an icy cold but beautiful day in the snowy mountains of the lower Carneddau. The walk which we planned to finish in 5 hours, had to be shortened drastically as thick snowdrifts made progress unbelievably slow. We cut out two peaks and walked just below the summits to save time but we still ended up on dangerous unconsolidated snow, hiding treacherous ankle-snapping drops into streams below. We finally arrived in near darkness at the Aber valley far below, in pain and having learned lessons for sure.
    GD001387.jpg
  • This became a mad and wild shoot. As I stood, transfixed by the comfort of this pastoral scene, I became aware of bees rushing past my head, along the line of the path. Next minute a huge bee was stuck in my hair and was obviously getting quite annoyed as it's hum got loader and louder! I tried flicking it out but finally had to run to my partner nearby to get her to flick it out. When I finally thought I was going to be stung it suddenly disappeared and everything went quiet again. The gorgeous beauty of the scene in the warmth of the sun on my day off, hid the fact that nature was actually still at work!
    GD000477.jpg
  • The imposing and dramatic (almost Alpine like) peak of Tryfan, one of Snowdonia's most impressive and serious mountains. It's popularity has led many less experienced walkers to danger and even death, but it still remains a must-do mountain for many hill walkers. As seen from Elidir Fawr.
    GD001042.jpg
  • I am always fascinated when nature reclaims areas and structures created by man, and this was no exception. A small tree is now growing out of the concrete floor, and grasses are forming a carpet. The rather pretty-looking wooden roof is still half-intact, and forms the roosting place for local choughs. I entered this building for the first time one dusk and disturbed two of these rare birds. They let out raucous squawks and shot out over my head. I’m not sure quite who was the most alarmed, but thereafter I always looked up first to avoid more surprises!
    GD000794.jpg
  • Alongside the wood, a small river flows down to the sea from the cascading waterfall of Y Graig Ddu. Through the often stunted and twisted trees at its edge, the old farm of TÅ· Uchaf can be seen, no longer inhabited, but still worked by a local farmer. The sudden downpour of light on the fields created a vivid separation between the open higher ground and the cold,dark,tight-packed mass of trees behind me.Ty Uchaf was like a Wuthering Heights to me, dark windows looking out over the valley and a sense of harshness and foreboding about running a farm in this remote isolated valley.
    GD000756.jpg
  • Even though the light had almost disappeared, well certainly gone flat, I was amused by the sheep and their reflections in the still lake water, little woolly stars :-)
    GD001227.jpg
  • It’s been 50 years since the original ‘tubular’ railway bridge burned down, so this year there has been much talk about this iconic piece of civil engineering, designed by Robert Stephenson and opened in 1850. <br />
<br />
When you stand under the bridge today, looking up at the gigantic steel arches, it’s shocking to realise just how much change occurred during the post-fire rebuilding. These steel arches never existed before. The concrete decks that now hold a highway, were not there before. The original wrought iron tubes are no longer there. The only original structures are the towers themselves. And yet whenever I think of this bridge I still imagine it’s been there forever.
    GD002556.jpg
  • In body-bending gales on Wales’ North coast, I topped out on the summit of this ancient hill-fort to peruse the fast-changing light and incoing tide at Dinas Dinlle. I had to physically lean onto the tripod to keep the camera as still as possible to make the exposure. <br />
<br />
The sun disappeared behind a hige cloud bank an the intensity reduced dramatically seconds after this image.
    GD002363.jpg
  • In an abandoned quarry village, high up in the windswept mountains of Wales, sits a derelict old chapel with it's roof timbers now collapsing inwards but still pointing skywards. It is only the spirit of the workmen in this busy slate quarry that remains, the valley is silent and desolate.
    GD001175.jpg
  • Within 2 minutes I was in Llanfaelog and the most spectacular view presented itself, a full moon right behind an amazing flood-lit church of St Faelog. Even though I was in a blinding hurry, I decided to stop the van and shoot the scene anyway. Actually the moon and church weren't in the ideal alignment for the composition I wanted but by bracing my tripod over the steps of the church, I could just create a composition that worked. I shot about four exposures at varying shutter speeds to get the right cloud coverage of the moon (so much more interesting than the moon alone) and as I was making the last exposure, a huge silent white Barn Owl glid across the scene in front of me, straight out of a Tim Burton film :-) Of course with 20 second exposures there was no chance of me recording this beautiful creature, but it will always be there in memory and will always remain magical. There were other movements in the graveyard, rustles, snaps and slithers but I couldn't actually see anything. At one point I felt something brush against my trousers but still saw nothing.
    GD000854.jpg
  • An icy cold but beautiful day in the snowy mountains of the lower Carneddau. The walk which we planned to finish in 5 hours had to be shortened drastically as thick snowdrifts made progress unbelievably slow. We cut out two peaks just below the summits, to save time, but still ended up on dangerous unconsolidated snow which hid treacherous ankle snapping sinks into streams below, as we headed down into the Aber valley in near darkness. Lessons to be learned for sure.
    GD001389.jpg
  • The imposing and dramatic (almost Alpine like) peak of Tryfan, one of Snowdonia's most impressive and serious mountains. It's popularity has led many less experienced walkers to danger and even death, but it still remains a must-do mountain for many hill walkers. As seen from Elidir Fawr.
    GD001041.jpg
  • NOT FOR SALE<br />
<br />
The warm sun broke the dark shadows and threw lines of light to the pounding heads racing to reach the shore first. They were white, massive and magnificent. In fact although I have seen much, much bigger waves here at the Cape, I had never really 'studied' the faces through a long lens, actively followed the faces as they rose up and teetered at the top. I have always been in awe of the waves in surf magazines and would still die to sit in a viewing boat at Pipeline or Jaws but here I was in the early morning light of Cornwall, watching and listening to these magnificent beasts rear up and hurl themselves at the coast, the noise loud, continuous and unforgiving. I just wish I had an even longer lens as I wanted to shoot just the faces, not the crests or the pits, so I have very unusually cropped one image here just to show you why! I need something like a 200-400 VR lens but by all accounts they simply don't deliver on results but maybe for this sort of subject I would have found it more than acceptable, answers on a postcard please!
    GD001101.jpg
  • Years ago, the Iron Age settlers at nearby Tre’r Ceiri enclosed a hill top, using stone walls for their huts and livestock pens. Some 2,000 years later, farmers are still building walls across windswept, wild areas to retain their livestock. In so many ways we have advanced by leaps and bounds, but the basic requirements for farming and the rearing of domesticated animals persist regardless.
    GD000804.jpg
  • A male baboon in a dead tree on the mountain tops of the Keurbooms Corridor that connects the Garden of Eden section of the Garden Route National Park to the Tsitsikamma National Park section. NE of Knysna.<br />
<br />
As we climbed higher into the mountains the sunshine disappeared and a welcome cool cloud surrounded us. The vegetation up here was incredibly varied and abundant. Around this corner I ended up standing on a crossroads surrounded by wild Baboons as I was pre-occupied with the ‘Calling the Herd’ sound sculpture by Strijdom van der Merwe.<br />
<br />
It is sad that this corridor from Knysna to Addo used to be used by 1000s of elephants, but since colonisation they have all have been hunted to near extinction in these amazing valleys, that are otherwise still rich in biodiversity. There are no elephants left wandering this area and the Knysna elephants are no more. The ‘death warrant’ was issued and carried out on the tiny remaining population by ruthless hunter Major Pretorius, but even the British Royalty including the Duke of Edinburgh spent days hunting and killing these amazing animals.
    GD002245.jpg
  • The 13th Century, Anglican, Eglwys Cwyfan (St Cwyfan's Church), not far from the small village of Aberffraw on Anglesey's West coast, at one time stood on the mainland coast but over the years, the sea has eroded the surrounding land leaving it stranded on it's own little island. Services are still occasionally held here but times are tide dependent.
    GD000814.jpg
  • I’ve seen elephants in zoos of course, restricted, moving around in circles, stared at by the thousands of noisy visitors - such a desperate form of existence. In the 22,270 km² Etosha National Park in NW Namibia however, I was for the first time able to see these truly magnificent creatures in their natural habitat. Watching David Attenborough programs on TV is always a delight, but nothing prepares you for the sheer awe of seeing these animals in real life in their own world.<br />
.<br />
From the heavily corrugated dust track we were on, the first thing I saw was what looked like a huge rounded granite boulder over the top of a hillock, but as we drove to the crest of the mound we realised it was in fact the head of a huge African elephant standing at a waterhole! This was real and I’ve never felt so small or humbled by natural wildlife. There are strict instructions never to leave your vehicle whilst in the park, so I had to accept that looking out of the window of our 4x4 was the best I was going to get.<br />
.<br />
All around us herds of Zebra were also drinking, running & frolicking with each other. Springbok daintily skipped past & Oryx & Giraffes were all there too. Hundreds of birds flitted about and falcons and other birds of prey circled overhead. It was a visual tapestry of wildlife with so many species all measuring each other up and acknowledging the hierarchies at the hole. What struck me most was the grace of motion of the elephants. Every movement of foot or trunk was slow, fluid & purposeful. At times they were just like living statues, almost motionless, just studying the world about them & at other times when walking, able to cover big distances so quickly but so gently. I was aware that they were aware of us, large eyeballs measuring us up but not seeming irritated or intimidated.<br />
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It was hard (especially looking from the car window) to take in the reality of it all rather than still imagining it was a TV program. I also felt deeply sad that it’s only a mat
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  • 2011: A young, funny, dynamic, 19-year-old friend of my step kids had gone missing at Christmas, a few
 weeks earlier, apparently having jumped off the Menai Suspension Bridge, but no-one really knew for sure; there were no answers and no closure for his devastated family and close friends. <br />
<br />
I have always gone to the sea for solace and comfort, but after this event, the sea represented something very different – swallowing, concealing. I was thinking about how lucky I was to simply be there, to breathe, to see, to live.<br />
 <br />
The sunshine was sparkling on the water, the grass was lush and green, clouds scudded across a now clear sky and there was a cool crispness to the air; my fingers felt it, my face felt it, every bit of me was now awake and invigorated, but I wished I knew what had happened to the lad. We all guessed at scenarios but nobody dared say anything, living in hope that our worst fears would be proved wrong. It was very hard for me to be near the sea so soon after his disappearance.<br />
 <br />
I moved on to the main estuary at Newborough. The sky was changing already; the forecasted week of rain had started to develop on the horizon, a darkness drew closer and the sparkle was gone. There were still sheets of hopeful, bright patches of sky over the hills, and the last intensity of sunshine was spilling over the peninsula. I walked in shallow water across the open estuary, surrounded by sheets of mirrored sky that contained a lonely half moon looking down at me.’ <br />
<br />
<br />
5 x A0 Edition<br />
A1 Editions - SOLD OUT <br />
15 x A2 Editions
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  • It was a surreal surprise to find a ram’s skull staring at us from the apex of a derelict tin mining power house. This area is littered with the remains of an historical tin mining industry; exploration shafts now just lush grass-covered conical depressions in the wet moorland. Once a noisy hive of activity and ore crushing, but now just the sounds of the wind through gaps in the walls. Likewise the bleating of sheep still echo across the open landscape, but this poor soul has long past, the bone bleached and dripping with hill fog. It’s strange but there is such peace now on the moors and even the saturating low cloud creates a sense of calm not panic, silence not noise. I felt a deep connection with history and the spirit of the place. Dartmoor is minimal and mesmerising.
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  • The 13th Century, Eglwys Cwyfan (St Cwyfan's Church), not far from the small village of Aberffraw on Anglesey's West coast, at one time stood on the mainland coast but over the years, the sea has eroded the surrounding land leaving it stranded on it's own little island. Services are still occasionally held here but times are tide dependent.
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  • Even though I've flown there myself, so I know they are real, the sudden appearance of these stunningly beautiful and seemingly huge set of islands on the horizon, still takes my breath away to this day. I can utterly and totally understand why ancient people saw these islands as Lyonesse, mythical, magical and tantalisingly close, yet within such a short space of time, and from lower elevations, they disappear as quickly as they appear..
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  • Mon Mam Cymru - mother of Wales provides the grain for the people of Wales. Wonderful signs of ancient history still clear to see.
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  • This may not be the most dramatic of Welsh coasts on South West Anglesey, but the jagged reefs and Westerly waves provide endless variation nevertheless. It still surprises me just how rough the rocks are, after millenia of erosion from the sea
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  • 710 square kilometres of incredible white gypsum, that in the evening light pouring over the San Andreas Mountains turned vivid hues of pink & purple. Gentle ripples formed in the sand where this damp and binding mineral has been blown by regular strong winds. <br />
<br />
To the North, almost 60% of these white sand gypsum dunes are still used for military weapons and missile testing - the first Fat Man plutonium bomb was tested in the Northern dunes.  <br />
<br />
And yet, there was such a quietness there, calm and even solitude when you walked a little further into the dunes. We did two visits to this National Monument, and honestly, I could have spent many MANY more days in the minimalist nothingness.
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  • Lockdown Day 6 <br />
<br />
A different part of the garden today and a different emotional attitude from me. Today I’m more resigned to things taking their own time. Yes we have to push to get things in progress but after that momentum has to continue with others.<br />
In this part of the garden a tree has been growing for ages and plants come and go within weeks and months, but they all aim upwards, they all want to live. We place walls and barriers around them but still they want to live and they do, unless cut down by others. Amongst what man has created, nature’s beauty always excels and will always excel behind our own existence. I don’t want to die, but I’d die happier knowing the planet was improving not getting worse.
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  • We decided to ignore the warnings not to drive during Storm Ciara, and headed for the sea. The narrow coastal roads were covered in seaweed and pebbles but high up above the cliffs of South Stack we only had the gale force winds to contend with. I left Jani warm in the van and fought my way down to the cliff edge, thankfully the wind blew me onshore not off! On arrival the skies were dark and gloomy but as I set up the tripod, sunlight burst through a break in the clouds and illuminated the short grasses clinging to the siltstone & quartzite rocks around me. <br />
<br />
I had to lean hard onto the tripod just to try and keep the camera still enough to make the shot. Even then I decided on a higher ISO for safety. Almost as soon as the sun warmed my wind-blown face, it disappeared and I was blown uphill back to the van!
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  • Mind blowing colours threaded through thousands of acres of high mountains as we move North in New Mexico. The heat haze is still apparent in all these distant pictures but in a way does show the high 30º temperatures we’re experiencing in this desert landscape.
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  • Lots of luck but probably still worth the wait, as the tide slowly pushed in as the sun fell, creating just the right balance of sea and sunset between these angular rock formations in North Anglesey.
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  • The architecture of this town has a very colonial influence. First mapped by the Portuguese, in 1883 Germany aristocrat Adolf Lüderitz purchased some of the original harbour area and surrounding land and developed the town as a fishing and trading post. In 1909 diamonds were found in nearby Kolmanskop and Lüderitz gained rapid prosperity. Since then however diamonds have mostly been found elsewhere and so the town went into decline. It’s still an incredible place to visit as so little of the town has changed at all since the early twentieth century.
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  • Old Polpeor Lifeboat Station, Britain’s most Southerly point<br />
<br />
I’ve visited this desolate (and derelict looking) place since I was a kid. My parents loved the Lizard peninsula and we would often go there at weekends. This is the Polpeor lifeboat station, built in 1914 and finally closed in 1961 so I’ve never been fortunate enough to have witnessed it being used to house an actual lifeboat.<br />
<br />
What I have witnessed over the last 4 decades is it’s use by local fishermen to house their kit but I noticed this last visit a few weeks ago that the ramp has now completely broken up and it’s really only the shed itself that remains standing.<br />
<br />
The curved boat ramp in the foreground is still used regularly by small local fishing boats as it keeps them free of the worst of the heavy seas and weather.<br />
<br />
Nevertheless you can’t visit this place without becoming vividly aware of it’s important maritime history and the treacherous coastline in which it nestles. Even on the bleakest days I am drawn to this location and it transfers me instantly back to my Cornish childhood.
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  • Deserted mountain dirt tracks on the mountain tops of the Keurbooms Corridor that connects the Garden of Eden section of the Garden Route National Park to the Tsitsikamma National Park section. NE of Knysna.<br />
<br />
As we climbed higher into the mountains the sunshine disappeared and a welcome cool cloud surrounded us. The vegetation up here was incredibly varied and abundant. Around this corner I ended up standing on a crossroads surrounded by wild Baboons as I was pre-occupied with the ‘Calling the Herd’ sound sculpture by Strijdom van der Merwe. <br />
It is sad that this corridor from Knysna to Addo used to be used by 1000s of elephants, but since colonisation they have all have been hunted to near extinction in these amazing valleys, that are otherwise still rich in biodiversity. There are no elephants left wandering this area and the Knysna elephants are no more. The ‘death warrant’ was issued and carried out on the tiny remaining population by ruthless hunter Major Pretorius, but even the British Royalty including the Duke of Edinburgh spent days hunting and killing these amazing animals.
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  • I was in the shadows of Foel Goch and Moel Cynghorion, with the sun setting behind me. I had put my camera away for the day but suddenly the clouds cleared to reveal a beautiful scene. <br />
<br />
I scrabbled in the rucksack to fetch the Fuji before the scene changed. I balanced my camera on a dry-stone wall to capture the near-full moon in a deep blue sky, high above the rolling foothills of Snowdon that were still bathed in warm sunshine.
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  • August, the holidays in full swing. The sun is clear in the sky and the sand is warm. I walk barefoot through deep pools on the beach and it’s like standing in a bath. There is something about shimmering water that mesmerises me, and I wish the still photo could show that iridescence
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  • She is powerful; a woman of the mountains, born below this very hill. Half a century on, she is once again naked and as amazing as the day she was born. Almost literally a part of the land, her figure echoes the terrain whilst the spirit of her childhood still whispers in the long grass. These mountains will exist millions of years beyond the blip of human life, but I sense that the spirits of those who have connected to this land will remain eternally.
    At Home On the Hill
  • On a drearily dull evening, in heavy gales and drizzly weather, we found ourselves in Britain's smallest city, St Davids in Pembrokeshire. A choir was singing beautifully from within the tungsten lit cathedral, whilst outside the mood was sombre, damp and lonely. It was one of those times where it would have been handy to be religious, to join the warm congregation inside, to open your lungs and hear the beauty - yet there was beauty still, in the rustling leaves in the trees, in the perfect curve of the distant hill, of the faint sound of the sea and of the ever reliable advance of dusk
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  • I've always loved Lamorna, the cove at the mouth of a huge tangled and lush green valley. In these woods I've stumbled across modern Pagan symbols and charms, I've been spooked by the numerous ghost stories and I'm convinced the woods are watching you. Surrounded by some of Cornwall's most famous burial mounds, standing stones, ancient settlements and Celtic crosses, it's not difficult to understand why us modern invaders are still being checked out by our ancestors. In contrast to the earthy Pagan charms, small paths sometimes lead to the most exclusive hidden cottages in Penwith, and ones I certainly will never ever be able to afford. In this shot, we have a metaphorical as well as literal choice of paths to take, and in this ancient, quiet and dripping woodland, we will find very different destinations.
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  • One of 3 winning entries in the 29th SUN (Shot up North) Awards for full time professional photographers<br />
<br />
I had been looking back through some early work and was amazed at how much snow we had in the winter of 2006. Amongst the more natural-looking snowy mountain images I’d taken from the top of Moel Eilio was this one of the Dinorwig Quarries below Elidir Fawr. I was fascinated by the cool purity of the winter snow gently trying to smooth over the vast, ugly, man-made scarring of the mountain’s lower regions.<br />
<br />
The image has almost literally been sliced in half – the softer, wild and windswept upper reaches, and the angular, fractured blackness of the quarries below. Of course, the quarries hold their own fascination in terms of human history, culture and tenacity, but sometimes it’s only from a distance that you realise just how much destruction has gone on. Equally, it’s almost comforting to know just how much beauty still does exist, even within areas that have been so exploited, as here in Llanberis.
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  • Nominated in 10th (2017) International Colour Awards (Architecture category) <br />
<br />
Now disused by the #RNLI the old Lizard Lifeboat House still stands, now houses the gear of the Lizard fishermen. It is gradually looking more dilapidated each time I visit but it will always stand as a reminder to me, at Britain’s most Southerly point, of a place from which the bravest men risked their lives to save the lives of hundreds and hundreds of floundering souls at this notorious peninsula. <br />
<br />
To me, the red is not just the gunwale of a boat, but blood, an artery - a lifeline for the sailors against the darkness of their situation.
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  • In seas with diminishing fish stocks, these small Azorzian boats still probably find more than most, stuck in the mid Atlantic, but today, with the seas rough and bad weather moving in, the whole town had gone quiet and no fishermen were to be seen.
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  • You have to visit St Ives just to witness the absolute clarity of the water beneath you. There are so many viewpoints where you can just stand and stare into the deep waters below and still make out the bottom. I've seen dolphins somersaulting just off the quay and seals regularly swim with the kids in the harbour, which from above looks just like an aquarium! I have always been fascinated by flotation and I love the way the boat on the surface aids our perception of the depth beneath.
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  • Even as little kids, we would walk the two miles or so from our home on Penmere Hill to this spectacular and popular rocky point of Pendennis Head, just below the famous Henry Eighth Castle. To us, the little fortified blockhouse was a castle in it's own right, and although signs have now been erected to prohibit climbing, we would always be finding new ways of getting onto the ramparts. This was pure magic, and this often stormy point still provides a Sunday viewpoint for hundreds of Falmouth locals.
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  • Cornwall, mid February. The weather had been stunning all week but the sea was still throwing some massive waves at the coast. Even in the relative shelter of the cove itself, huge granite boulders await further attrition from the advancing Atlantic swell.
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  • "I’d enjoyed being alone in the gale-force winds on an almost deserted Llanddwyn Beach, sun shone one minute, showers the next. The relentless buffering from the gale invigorated me, made me feel alive, forcing oxygen into my lungs. As I was almost blown back towards the beach entrance, dusk seemed to have sprung upon me also. The skies were dark under weighty clouds and latent squalls. I turned back towards the island and the most beautiful delicate light was creating a huge bi-coloured yellow and white cross, Llandwyn being flagged in the centre. The waves on the outgoing tide were still forcing their way up the shore but the hard, wet sand bore the reflection of the shifting Heavens above, and everything felt perfect”
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  • Just a small part of the huge private estate - with little public access, which is the current residence of Prince William and the lovely Kate. I won't be saying where there is so don't ask! US Anglesonians are quite protective of the quiet supportive couple ! :-) <br />
<br />
The nice thing is, even when the couple leave, the place will still remain beautifully rural, and simply beautiful!
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  • These black, shiny, eroded and smoothed pillow lavas watch the endless earth cycle. The sands shift and shunt and move about endlessly and the wind ruffles surfaces. The sun bakes and the waves smash but still these ancient rocks just take it all in their stride, hardly changing over millennia.
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  • It’s the little things that can make or break, and being blinded by the light at the end of the tunnel, can lead us to forget that others are still holding our hand.
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  • Dark Waters<br />
<br />
Surrounded by winter darkness her body-heat drained into the dark lake. She felt the soft waves against her legs, inching more warmth from her core, and yet still, she craved the downpour; she needed to feel the sting of the hail on her flesh and she leaned backwards to prepare herself for the sensation. Was this masochism; a penance; or something more earthly, more akin to an aching need to confirm you exist and that life & death is real and without schedule?
    Dark Waters
  • An overcast and windless day in Snowdonia last week but the rich Autumnal colours glowed beautifully in the near mirror-like surface of the mountain lake. Reflections in lakes are such a cliché so forgive me, I was just rather taken with the scene anyway and couldn't help jumping out of the van to make this image.
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  • A tree torn from the ground became a vessel on the ocean, before being left high and dry on a Spring tide. The roots that anchored this living organism, that kept it upright and strong are now just a twisted mass of dead truncated limbs but this once was a thing of great beauty. She lay supine across it’s lifeless trunk, feeling the still coarse bark pressing into her living flesh, creating sensation long after it's death. Her own feet touched the soft grass and she felt the breeze ruffling her long hair. The wood was warm, heated by the same sunshine that bathed her own torso; life and death sharing the same light; the same energy; the same space and with their limbs intertwined, almost the same form.
    Morpheus Dream
  • I’ve seen elephants in zoos, restricted, moving around in circles, stared at by the thousands of noisy visitors - such a desperate form of existence. In the 111 year old and 22,270 km² Etosha National Park in North West Namibia however, I was for the first time able to see these truly magnificent creatures in their natural habitat. Watching David Attenborough programs is always a delight but nothing prepares you for the sheer awe of seeing these animals in real life in their own world.<br />
<br />
From the heavily corrugated dust track, the first thing I saw was what looked like a huge rounded boulder beyond a hillock, but as we drove to the crest of the mound we realised it was in fact the head of a huge African elephant standing at a waterhole! This was real & I’ve never felt so small or humbled by wildlife. There are strict instructions never to leave your vehicle whilst in the park so I had to accept that looking out of the window was the best I was going to get.<br />
<br />
Around us herds of Zebra were drinking, running and frolicking with each other. Springbok daintily skipped past & Oryx and Giraffe were there too. Hundreds of birds flitted about & falcons & other birds of prey circled overhead. It was a visual tapestry of wildlife with so many species all measuring each other up and acknowledging the hierarchies at the hole. What struck me most was the grace of motion of the elephants. Every movement of foot or trunk was slow, fluid & purposeful. At times they were just like living statues, almost motionless, just studying the world about them, and at other times when walking, able to cover big distances so quickly but so gently. I was aware that they were aware of us, large eyeballs measuring us up but not seeming irritated or intimidated.<br />
<br />
It was hard (especially from the car window) to take in the reality of it all rather than still imagining it was a TV program. I also felt deeply sad that it’s only a matter of time before wild elephants are hunted to extinction.
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  • Nominated image in the 13th Black & White Spider Awards 2018<br />
<br />
The early morning light shimmered off the wet sands of the estuary. Noisy waders skimmed over the wide flats in the hunt for feeding grounds. Dark clouds brewed ominously on the horizon behind us and gathered slowly over the mountain peaks.<br />
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The woman had walked towards me from the distant sand dunes, aware that the tide was rising rapidly, flooding the expanse of the bay behind her. She stood at the water’s edge, long grasses puncturing the the smooth mirror rising around her. She felt the first chill of the breeze from the weather front and clasped herself, yet the sea was still warm after summer rays. She gently, though purposefully stirred the water with her feet, crossing one leg in front of the other as she did so, enjoying the sensation of liquid resistance against her skin. I studied the ripples flowing away from her, small waves of her spiritual energy connecting with me and the shoreline. As the tide rose to her thighs the mud softened beneath her. Under now darkening skies she continued on her journey, passing me by and heading for the sheltered woodland behind me.<br />
<br />
Taken whilst being filmed for the ITV series ‘The Strait’ being broadcast from 5th January 2018
    Gently Stirring the Tide
  • There is a stark loneliness at this far-flung crag even in summer. The woman had been silently climbing the rocky crag to reach its flat top, where she crouched down to look around her. The slow turn of her head was the only movement in this still landscape but then she arose, her slender body illuminated by a ray of late afternoon sunshine. She turned to the light and stood on tiptoes before shouting into the breeze, “I can’t believe this! I’m alone on a mountain and I am completely NAKED! This is AMAZING!” She slowly rotated on her stone platform so that she could feel the warmth over every inch of her body and she revelled in the sensual experience of sun-warmed air flowing over her womanhood. She felt natural; she felt the rock; she loved the liberation and the open space. She was at one with the mountains.
    She Saw the Light
  • “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
  • It was still winter, the rock was icy cold and the bitter rough surface of the curved rock, normally a sun-bed in summer, was freezing her skin. Yet, in the windless air, those afternoon rays of sunshine gave her some relief. She relished the pleasure and the pain and stretched out abandoned to the sensations. Her skin was tight, but textured to touch, thousands of goosebumps working hard to keep her warm.<br />
<br />
I’d never seen anything so incredible, not just the amazing landscape but that it cradled such a gorgeous woman. I walked over to her, took hold of her hand and whispered, “You’re beautiful!" She turned towards me, smiled and we kissed, warmth burning between us in the rocky wilderness that we had found ourselves in.
    Heat On An Icy Rock
  • Nominated for 11th International B&W Spider Awards<br />
<br />
I’ve always found the landscape here fascinating. This arid, windblown, dusty volcanic island is a shadow of its explosive past but the signs are all around. I love that you can see into vast craters, marvel at the lava fields and study the ash covered slopes. It still feels very raw, as if it only happened a few years ago and it makes me, and all life, seem such a stroke of universal luck.
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  • Hundreds of years of human history can still be clearly seen in this small Yorkshire seaside  village of Robin Hood's Bay - the cobbled narrow streets and old, fishermen's houses now shelter visitors and holiday makers but the memories of past culture and past times is potent and unspoiled.
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  • After a day in thick hill-fog, we slowly made our way to lower slopes and then we could see under and through the fog beyond. Everything was awesome and backlit by the burning ball which had been hiding all day. The coast of the Northern Lleyn was clearly sillouetted against the bright sunlit sea, yet everything was still partially softened by the thick cloud. So spectacular and like something out of a Sci-Fi film © Glyn Davies 2010 - All rights reserved.
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  • From my book<br />
<br />
"Nant Gwrtheyrn - Y Swyngyfaredd (The Enchantment)" available here on my website<br />
<br />
The deserted valley and quarrying village of Nant Gwrtheyrn, North Wales. Now restored as a Welsh language & conference centre.
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  • As a village, and cove, I can romanticise about this place. It feels Cornish, and its strong links with the sea, fishing boats, pilot gigs, lifeboats and shipwrecks (of which a recent one lies just around the corner) all help to re-enforce this romantacism. However, although swamped by visitors in the summer, and now largely dominated by holiday homes, this place is still actively involved with all these activities and for me therefore, Sennen will always be what I've loved best about the life and culture of Cornwall.
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  • What seemed like a lake of grass divided the three isolated trees, perfectly still, motionless in warm winter sunlight.
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  • The sun had long set, but in the gathering dusk the subtle hues still looked beautiful. There was barely a breath of wind and only the gentlest of soft ripples radiated across this false bay. A young couple slowly and quietly beached a canoe on a distant pebble bank, two micro figures in a vast watercolour landscape.
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  • The first day of the new year, the first day of the new decade! After a lazy start, relaxing in bed, drinking fresh coffee whilst sunshine poured through the window, we decided to make the most of the beautiful conditions and get a walk in. <br />
<br />
We drove to the Great Orme to maximise exposure to the New Year’s sunshine and scrambled up through the limestone buttresses to reach the summit. The views back across to Snowdonia were stunning, the huge mountains just stopped at the sea and looked more reminiscent of some Greek islands than the Welsh coast. The sea was so calm and the tiny yacht making its way out of the Conwy estuary helped to describe just how huge and magnificent everything looked. <br />
<br />
In terms of climate disaster and self-interested politics worldwide we are in such frightening times, but today’s conditions at the start of the new decade, infused us both with a small dose of happiness and positivity that I hope to God we can still find more of over the next few years.
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  • Sort of incredible. No rivers or streams, no grassland, no rain, just arid rocky earth in the middle of a desert, yet amidst this ‘nothingness’ not only does life take hold but it does it so strikingly. This tree had such a large trunk that supported boughs and so many branches, twigs and leaves. I know there are good scientific reasons why life can survive where it seems impossible, but there is still something rather awe-inspiring  when you confront such a miracle in such an inhospitable place!
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  • The rain was relentless, coming down in sheets across the sombre Welsh hillsides, soaking the landscape and everything upon it. I’d just walked for hours on the deserted gale-blown mountaintops, alone but strangely happy in my solitude. The river in the valley was swollen, fed by the downpour but tumbled excitedly towards the sea beyond.<br />
<br />
The steadfast skeletal trees transfixed me. Their bare branches were almost still in the breeze and their water-drop laden twigs stretched out like a delta. These skeletal figures were in a sort of suspended animation, hidden life pulsing through the outstretched limbs but waiting to burst out in the spring, months from now.<br />
<br />
I didn’t really want to leave but my waterproofs were now beginning to fail after almost four hours of penetrating bad weather. I could hear the rain on my jacket hood and tiny beads of water now ran down my skin. It seemed that if I moved I’d ruin the silent connection between me and the trees, but I did, and it didn’t.
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  • There is something truly spiritual and liberating about being completely alone in the mountains. I only saw one person all day and apart from him I was completely undisturbed. I was able to watch cloud shadows scudding across the landscape, blown by bitter Easterly winds. I bathed in beams of sunlight that were lucky enough to break beneath the dark skies. The hills felt like they were mine. The grasses waved at me and the weather offered itself as a theatrical performance for me alone. Every step I took and every breath I made in the clean air connected me more fully with the planet; every downhill slope made me smile and even the tiredness of my leg muscles was a welcome reminder that I was alive and that the world still has beautiful things to offer. Living so close to the mountains, and equally so close to the sea, is almost like living in paradise.
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  • We stumbled across what we thought was a derelict cottage in the middle of woodland down a tiny track. <br />
<br />
Evening sunlight was pouring through a window beyond, and there was a reflection of the sky and trees in the front windows. I went up to the window &  was shocked to discover signs of habitation. There was even a calendar from 2015 on the wall, yet still I suspected that the place had just been deserted. I took this one image because of the beautiful light and sense of time passing, melancholy almost but imbued with such positive afternoon sunshine. <br />
<br />
It was only then that I heard a car pull up behind us. The very jovial driver was the landowner, and he told us that someone does indeed live there. The tenant is a 75 year old man who refuses to connect any power to the house, even though all the faciities are there. He only has a gas bottle to power his ancient stove. <br />
<br />
This old man has a tiny garden plot over a mile away on a steep cliff side, and he walks there regulalrly to tend his vegetagbles. He has an old car, but that is one of his only links wih modern’ish technology. <br />
<br />
The landowner is in no hurry to move the old gentleman on, and it seems he will see the end of his days in this ancient farmyard cottage, almost off the grid, and I hope deeply happy because of it. <br />
<br />
Next time I’m down, I’d love to photograph the old man himself, if he’d be happy for me to do so. What a character he must be.
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  • Nominated image in the 13th Black & White Spider Awards 2018<br />
<br />
An old tree appears contorted and tired. It sags under the weight of years of observation of time and events. Its smooth silver bark still reflects light even on a dull day and it continues to hold an attraction.<br />
<br />
A lithe woman connected with its old arms, which supported her as she suspended herself. Her young figure curved to echo the old, as one, though she had witnessed so little in comparison. Her body stretched, her spine felt good and her shoulders strong.<br />
<br />
As the wind blew, the tree creaked and the leaves rustled. Almost imperceptibly she started to move with the wind, gently swinging back and forth in the breeze. She was a brief beauty that would soon fall to the earth but in the meantime she was as magical as the tree itself, two very different lives as one.
    The Copse
  • In the approaching dark of heavy rain clouds and a biting cold wind, the beautiful and enticing ridge-walk from Pen yr Helgi Du received an unexpected burst of sunlight along its length.<br />
<br />
We debated all the way to its steep northern ascent, but then the heavens opened and we realised we had been very wise to ignore the siren’s call as we headed down to the dark lake in torrential, skin-soaking rain. Even the Gore-Tex rainwear failed in these conditions and we still only just made the van before complete darkness.<br />
<br />
What has always struck me when looking at this photograph, is just how skin-like the hillside appears, like the hide of a huge animal. When you think of just how thin the ‘living surface’ above mountains of solid rock actually is then, effectively, it is just a ‘skin’ which will be affected by the weather and which will change appearance and colour constantly over time.
    GD000970.jpg
  • Ever since a kid I have loved Cape Cornwall and the vast sense of space you experience from the hill-top. Waves that would swamp a small fishing boat seem relatively harmless from this height but the fact they have travelled hundreds of miles of ocean is still quite intimidating.
    GD000216.jpg
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