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  • GD001593.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
  • 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
  • I sometimes find myself in dark places and it’s easy to close your eyes to shut it all out, but from out of nowhere I usually become aware of the gentlest glow of light. The delicate light is normally enough to see how to move forward. Once I’ve found the path everything seems brighter and the ominous clouds gradually move back to the horizon.<br />
<br />
The large limestone stepping stones of Rhydd Gaer (The Blood Fort) , cross the Afon Braint River south of the village of Dwyran on Anglesey. The river itself leads to the Braint Estuary where it joins the Menai Strait and Caernarfon Bay. There is little agreed information about the history of these historical stones
    GD000818.jpg
  • Ships waiting in bad weather in the sheleted waters in the lee of the Isle of Anglesey, awaiting pilots to help navigate the dangerous waters into Liverpool.
    GD001012.jpg
  • The huge open desert becomes a blank canvas for Daliesque surrealism when incongrous objects suddenly appear out of nowhere. There was noyhing behind me and nothing beyond except for distant hills. <br />
<br />
To come across this derelict house, alongside a railway that stretches as far as the eye can see and on which we never saw a train, really did make us question ‘why’ and ‘who would have lived there’. Genuinely surreal and a taste of things to come in the deserted mining town miles ahead.
    GD002284.jpg
  • One of the most perfect stretches of road that we found in Namibia. Miles of perfect black tarmac with distinctive white markers created such geometry amongst thousands of acres of desert sand. As with most man-made things that I observed in Namibia, they all seemed slightly incongruous within such vast wilderness landscape.
    GD002285.jpg
  • After miles of dirt-road driving through vast empty desert landscape, it was quite a shock to see anything man-made other than the road itself, let alone signs that indicated that civilisation actually existed somewhere amongst this isolation. It was a blast of ‘normality’ and ‘order’ yet seemed utterly incongruous to our surroundings. I loved the surreality of it all.
    GD002254.jpg
  • This path paved with large slabs and stones has usually been referred to as the Roman Steps, but more recently it is believed this impressive path cutting a route through the often silent Rhinoggau Mountains is actually more likely a drovers path. You feel you are stepping in history regardless.
    GD001236.jpg
  • One of many giraffes at the Etosha Reserve, Namibia
    GD002315.jpg
  • 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.
    GD002287.jpg
  • Never seen anything like it. We were on the road to wind blown Atlantic coastal town of Luderitz and a few miles before we arrived the effects of the wind could already be seen. At some points you could hardly see in front of the car and at other sand drifts had built across the road. I stepped out of the car on this near deserted road and was instantly sand-blasted by stinging grains of fast-blown crystals. I was amazed that there was even a road as the sand blew so constantly across the landscape.
    GD002286.jpg
  • Under intense sunshine, surrounded by arid plains and distant mountains, we blasted along deserted dust roads in this vast empty space. It was quite a surprise on reaching the brow of an infinite hill, to suddenly see isolated trees dotted around. They were more like surreal incongruous sculptures than any object of normality. <br />
This is what we found about Namibia, that the landscapes although huge, do vary. It almost imperceptible at first but you come to realise that you are indeed no longer in the same place you were!
    GD002276.jpg
  • Under intense sunshine, surrounded by arid plains and distant mountains, we blasted along deserted dust roads in this vast empty space. It was quite a surprise on reaching the brow of an infinite hill, to suddenly see isolated trees dotted around. They were more like surreal incongruous sculptures than any object of normality.  <br />
<br />
This is what we found about Namibia, that the landscapes although huge, do vary. It almost imperceptible at first but you come to realise that you are indeed no longer in the same place you were!
    GD002275.jpg
  • After wild and exposed stretches of the Skeleton Coast, we drove past the very busy port of Walvis Bay. The differences were huge, the narrow but endless roads were suddenly busy with heavy trucks and traffic leaving and entering the port. As we drove further south however the traffic eased once again, but signs of man, settlement and ‘civilisation’ were present for many miles further before gradually evaporating once again. These man-made structures appeared incongruous in the blowing desert sands, creating a surreal landscape of man and nature, but more than that – it was the tenacity of man and invention that enables society to survive in otherwise barren terrain.
    GD002274.jpg
  • It was somewhat unnerving being isolated amongst the burning and sharp white sands of the dunes beside the Skeleton Coast. In the foreground you can see Jackal footprints but our guide, who remained in the van, says that he’s wild camped out here and one morning he opened the zip to his tent, to see a huge dark and menacing looking Hyena in the fog just beyond him.<br />
<br />
In the silence I thought I’d be able to hear any approaching beast of the dunes but then I noticed my own footsteps were silent, so theirs definitely would be. I also noticed deeper, heavier set footprints across one of the dunes and I started to imagine that at any moment I’d go over a small hillock and see the beast staring up at me from the dip below. <br />
<br />
As it happened I never saw any wild canines, but instead thoroughly enjoyed the surreal sense of being lost in the inhospitable white terrain all about me.
    GD002269.jpg
  • A hundred million years ago this huge basin in the Etosha National Park was a lake, fed by the Kunene River in Angola, but 16,000 years ago, due to tectonic plate movement the river was diverted West to the Atlantic and gradually the lake dried up leaving this vast lake bed. At 4800 km² this saltpan, the largest in Africa, can be seen from space.<br />
<br />
I’d wanted to see this surreal landscape for a long time, and surprising though it may seem to others, this appealed to me even more than seeing the wildlife in the park! There is this deep need within me to experience vast empty spaces; it’s all part of that humbling vulnerability that I seek. I wanted to feel minute, isolated and insignificant in every possible term. It was difficult of course with anyone else around but fortunately I had a sense of it with just Jani and her two cousins around. We drove out onto the lake (on an ‘official’ stick marked track) and stepped into the baking heat. There was simply nothing ahead of us, almost 50kms to the far side and almost 60 kms to the left and right – it was vast indeed.<br />
<br />
The earth was soft and crumbly rather than rock hard. I can imagine in rain it would get very soft indeed. I’ve read that in prolonged heavy rain the whole lake bed floods up to 10cm deep creating an incredible mirror –like surface which attracts thousands of migrating flamingos.
    GD002260.jpg
  • Ferry from Mallorca, arriving at Ciutadella harbour, Western Menorca at sunset.
    GD001886.jpg
  • Sitting in the cafe at Land's End, the rain beating on the windows outside, us warm and cosy, the perfect living room, oh were that the case! Sunshine, blasts out, intense clarity, back to rain, back to home, back to reality
    GD001093.jpg
  • Honourable Mention in the 'Fine Art' category of the 2019, International 14th Black & White Spider Awards<br />
<br />
So strange and funny, to see the One Way road sign directing cars to the open Atlantic Ocean. I love crazy juxtapositions like this.
    GD001029.jpg
  • GD000644.jpg
  • Under intense sunshine, surrounded by arid plains and distant mountains, we blasted along deserted dust roads in this vast empty space. It was quite a surprise on reaching the brow of an infinite hill, to suddenly see isolated trees dotted around. They were more like surreal incongruous sculptures than any object of normality. <br />
This is what we found about Namibia, that the landscapes although huge, do vary. It almost imperceptible at first but you come to realise that you are indeed no longer in the same place you were!
    GD002277.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
  • The landscape altered, subtly at first, but shrubs and small trees started to grip the pure rock and dirt of the previous day. <br />
<br />
Two minutes after this image was taken, a motionless small tree ran across the road in front of us - our first wild ostrich! Nature was quietly making an appearance the further North we drove.
    GD002256.jpg
  • This is one of the main roads into Southern Namibia, shortly after leaving the border control on the Orange River. We had passed an isolated garage and a few kms later an agriculturally based township, but then we went around a bend of an escarpment and over a hill, and were faced with this arid but incredible desert landscape. We drove for over an hour on this harsh dirt track, without seeing another car. There were no towns, no hamlets, no roadside stores, not even telegraph or electricity lines. It was barren. No animals to be seen, no birds of any sort and no signs of snakes or scorpions or in fact anything. Stepping outside the car I entered an oven of heat, into the 40ºs and surprising silence. The landscape was vast and I don’t think I’ve ever experienced such a huge, empty, lonely space - but I loved it, I enjoyed the vulnerability it created and the recognition that I was really, truly alive - as little else at that moment at least, seemed to be. <br />
<br />
I knew I was going to enjoy this country.
    GD002252.jpg
  • Winning entry in the 2019 (31st) SUN Shot up North Awards<br />
<br />
In the middle of nowhere in a vast and inhospitable landscape, we came across an elderly looking man removing large stones from the dirt road. It was certain death in that climate but about a mile further on, we came across this mobile shelter, a workman’s refuge. <br />
It was surreal, almost incongruous in this desert environment. We could only assume that at some point later in the day, a work bus would come and free this man from this vast workplace.
    GD002253.jpg
  • I don’t even know how it got there but a way off the dirt track had slumped this old truck, its faded layers of eroded paintwork peppered with shot-gun holes. <br />
<br />
Abandoned and left to nature and the elements, this vehicle jolted within me the recognition that nothing lasts forever, that eventually everything becomes dust, but in the meantime is a marker for own place along that road, literally.
    GD002255.jpg
  • A blonde woman relaxing on a golden yellow sandy beach in the summer at Caneiros, Algarve, Portugal, watching the Atlantic waves crash on the shoreline with a limestone sea stack in the distance.
    GD001837.jpg
  • Got up early this morning, melting overnight. Went out for some cool air in the thick sea fog. After about an hour the fog thinned and just a mist remained. At 9.08 am, just ahead of schedule, the Scillonian III slipped it's warps and gently steamed past St Michaels Mount on its 2 3/4 hr journey to St Mary's on the Isles of Scilly. <br />
<br />
Had several images from this morning that I really liked but just had to post this one first as two iconic subjects lined up. Even saw dolphins breaching this morning. Quite magical.
    GD002522.jpg
  • The story goes that someone tried to drive his 4x4 across this vast lake bed, and was never seen again’ <br />
<br />
A hundred million years ago this huge basin in the Etosha National Park was a lake, fed by the Kunene River in Angola, but 16,000 years ago, due to tectonic plate movement the river was diverted West to the Atlantic and gradually the lake dried up leaving this vast lake bed. At 4800 km² this saltpan, the largest in Africa, can be seen from space.<br />
<br />
I’d wanted to see this surreal landscape for a long time, and surprising though it may seem to others, this appealed to me even more than seeing the wildlife in the park! There is this deep need within me to experience vast empty spaces; it’s all part of that humbling vulnerability that I seek. I wanted to feel minute, isolated and insignificant in every possible term. It was difficult of course with anyone else around but fortunately I had a sense of it with just Jani and her two cousins around. We drove out onto the lake (on an ‘official’ stick marked track) and stepped into the baking heat. There was simply nothing ahead of us, almost 50kms to the far side and almost 60 kms to the left and right – it was vast indeed.<br />
<br />
The earth was soft and crumbly rather than rock hard. I can imagine in rain it would get very soft indeed. I’ve read that in prolonged heavy rain the whole lake bed floods up to 10cm deep creating an incredible mirror –like surface which attracts thousands of migrating flamingos.
    GD002263.jpg
  • A hundred million years ago this huge basin in the Etosha National Park was a lake, fed by the Kunene River in Angola, but 16,000 years ago, due to tectonic plate movement the river was diverted West to the Atlantic and gradually the lake dried up leaving this vast lake bed. At 4800 km² this saltpan, the largest in Africa, can be seen from space.<br />
<br />
I’d wanted to see this surreal landscape for a long time, and surprising though it may seem to others, this appealed to me even more than seeing the wildlife in the park! There is this deep need within me to experience vast empty spaces; it’s all part of that humbling vulnerability that I seek. I wanted to feel minute, isolated and insignificant in every possible term. It was difficult of course with anyone else around but fortunately I had a sense of it with just Jani and her two cousins around. We drove out onto the lake (on an ‘official’ stick marked track) and stepped into the baking heat. There was simply nothing ahead of us, almost 50kms to the far side and almost 60 kms to the left and right – it was vast indeed.<br />
<br />
The earth was soft and crumbly rather than rock hard. I can imagine in rain it would get very soft indeed. I’ve read that in prolonged heavy rain the whole lake bed floods up to 10cm deep creating an incredible mirror –like surface which attracts thousands of migrating flamingos.
    GD002259.jpg
  • Soft clouds gently blowing across a pastel sky and brilliant intense sunshine glittering on the ocean below. Dark, deadly fingers of the Manacles rocks puncture this serenity and mariners need always be aware.
    GD002240.jpg
  • A hang glider flies past overhead, below vapour trails across a blue sky. A white chimney, characteristic of this part of the Algarve points skywards.
    GD001895.jpg
  • GD000601.jpg
  • It may sound daft, but I was as fascinated by the unending miles of open dust road as I was with the incredible volcanic desert landscape. <br />
<br />
I’ve never been anywhere else in the world (yet) where I can drive for hundreds of kilometres on dust roads without seeing a car for hours. In one way it was a little freaky, for if you break down it could well be a LONG wait in 45º of sweltering heat before anyone might come by and help you, but equally, that same sense of isolation and vulnerability is what made the journey so adventurous and awesome.
    GD002279.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 />
.<br />
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
    GD002258.jpg
  • So strange seeing popular places near deserted, and equally so beautiful and calming - no excited shouting, screaming kids, dog-calling, drones, lines of people on a mission to honey pots locations and a deserted lighthouse. I imagined that going back 40 years or more, maybe this was the norm, that you’d only ever see a handful of people the whole walk? The landscape felt different. It felt more wild, more desolate, more natural, more timeless, more spiritual. <br />
<br />
I guess to find this sort of calm solitude; refreshing mental freedom; we’d have to travel much further afield. Anglesey is now a playground for so many, even mid winter, and whilst it’s always beautiful, it’s rare to find solitude. For many they don’t mind, they even seek the comfort of other people being around, but for me I need total solitude - I need to experience places without seeing anyone - it’s the only way I can allow my mind to connect properly with the planet.
    GD002545.jpg
  • “We all travel the Milky Way together, trees and men; but it never occurred to me until this storm-day, while swinging in the wind, that trees are travellers, in the ordinary sense. They make many journeys, not extensive ones, it is true; but our own little journeys, away and back again, are only little more than tree-waving’s, many of them not so much.”<br />
<br />
From: ‘The Mountains of California’ by John Muir, New York. The Century Co. (1894). Chapter 10, ‘A Wind Storm in the Forests’
    In The Canopy
  • After two days in the melting heat on the Berg River, we headed south to Langebaan and drank cold wine in the shade of the trees at the National Park 19th Century headquarters. With a couple of hours before park closing time we headed across the lagoon and across vast white sand dunes to see the tumbling Atlantic waves on the exposed West Coast.<br />
.<br />
There was a beautifully refreshing cool salty breeze from the spray of crashing waves and there wasn’t a soul around. At the end of the road lay a long sandy beach, dotted with sea birds confused by the two human beings daring to set foot on their deserted beach!<br />
.<br />
It was surreal to recognise that these Westerly Atlantic waves are from the same ocean that batters the coast of the UK on another side of the planet. I felt very at home here and equally happy that I wasn’t. The ‘associations’ of home are strange, that no matter where you travel you sort of take elements of home with you.
    GD002362.jpg
  • "The contrast between the sharpness of the huge rocky cliff and the delicate fragility of the female form in this image creates a tension - not just from the fear of cuts and slices from the knife-like edges, but also due to the apparent melancholy of the woman with such colourful sunlit surroundings. You'd think she was a modern day cavewoman but really, as Summer draws close she represents a wide held feeling or sadness about returning home after the universal joy of travel, sunshine and warmth, We all dream about our next naked adventure in the great outdoors before we have even finished the present"
    GD001831.jpg
  • I have always been fascinated by huge stretches of beach, open to the full force of the ocean and prevailing winds, that sense of escape, the distant horizon, the idea of travel and voyage, and also being at the edge of two worlds, the one we survive on and the one we are simply not designed to be in, the sea! The board-walks that sometimes spring up on these beaches have always intrigued me, that facilitation to freedom, the path to stand on the edge of the unknown. I love the way that winter storms often shift beaches and wash away our puny efforts, but I also like the empathy about the need to be on the edge, which for some can only happen through the use of these devices. The hole which has appeared in these huge timbers speaks about this process.
    GD001316.jpg
  • Nominated for 11th International B&W Spider Awards<br />
<br />
This is from a small number of images I shot over Christmas & Boxing Day whilst staying in Northwich with my brother. The relationship between nature and a huge chemical and rock salt industry created surreal landscapes, reminiscent of Tarkowsky films. Combined with the dreary weather and my own melancholy state of mind due to personal circumstances,  my resulting images are metaphorical - dark, sad, brooding, but with delicate sheets of light, glimmers of hope.
    GD001544.jpg
  • Within tiny worlds, when travel and distance is forbidden, the smallest areas of countryside become your nature oasis, your connection with the future and a reminder of the past. As I stand by the tree, probably twice my age, I know that we are not the planet and the earth isn’t ours.
    GD002477.jpg
  • She had travelled oceans and her body had ploughed through waves. She had baked in tropical sunshine and been whipped by Arctic winds. Enough was enough. She needed earth beneath her feet and the firmness of land for security. Under the cover of dusk she silently slipped from those she protected and headed for the cliff tops.  <br />
<br />
As they headed to sea on the morning tide, she could hear the calls of an unnerved crew hoisting sails. She felt guilty but her new journey was enchanting and she smiled secretly as the grasses blew around her ankles.
    The-Missing.jpg
  • When I created this image I was acutely aware of the tantalising proximity of the sacred island, the final destination for so many thousands of pilgrims, yet separated by a notorious stretch of dangerous tidal currents. After journeying for months, this final hurdle must have seemed almost insurmountable for the travellers. Here on the cliff top a strong, lean, powerful female outstretches her arms like the redeemer. She lifts her heels off the ground and has complete faith that she will receive help. She will fly, be lifted and be carried across the water. She will be helped to realisation, helped to the knowledge she seeks. As the mists swirl over the island’s mountain summit and the tidal flow surges between the landmasses, this woman will find her way.  She will cross the divide either through divine intervention or sheer tenacity.
    Finding Paradise
  • Patterns caused by wind blowing different weight sands across the vast wind swept beach of Morfa Dyffryn near Barmouth, Mid Wales. <br />
<br />
We turned North and immediately felt the full brunt of the Northerly gale in our faces. Progress was not difficult but was definitely slow. The wind was so strong that sheets of sand were lifted off the beach and blown towards us like swirling fog around our feet. A dog in the distance jumps for a stick and travels 20 feet before landing ! It sorted "men from the boys" as they say, and I noticed a few beach visitors start in this direction then turn back very quickly, but Carol and I were on a mission to get to the far point and the estuary beyond, and it was maybe two miles of beach walk against this headwind. I was blown away [pun intended] by the patterns and tones caused by the sheets of wind-driven sand over the shore, it really was like looking down at the earth whilst flying through low cloud but anything taller than one foot or so remained clear and static, betraying the impression!
    GD001208.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 traveled hundreds of miles of ocean is still quite intimidating.
    GD000216.jpg
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Glyn Davies, Professional Photographer and Gallery

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