Show Navigation

Search Results

Refine Search
Match all words
Match any word
Prints
Personal Use
Royalty-Free
Rights-Managed
(leave unchecked to
search all images)
{ 20 images found }

Loading ()...

  • Unbelievable dusk burn of sunlight after a dreadful, rain flooded day. These conditions lasted such a short time but in that time I enjoyed such wonderful serenity. It was so quiet that I could hear the sound of the Afon Menai flowing by; I heard a lone Oystercatcher calling across the water but couldn't hear a large flock of gulls lazily winging across the Menai Strait, backdropped by a watercolour tapestry of weather.
    GD002490.jpg
  • Mirror-like reflections of the blue sky and clouds across the Menai Strait towards Foel on Anglesey from Caernarfon on the North coast of mainland Wales.
    GD001525.jpg
  • The sun had actually disappeared behind a cloud front miles behind me, but the amazing colours that often come after sunset, bathed the high clouds which then reflect in the water surface.<br />
.<br />
You can’t see it in the photo but it was also drizzling when I took this and I was photographing from under a huge brolly. I love these unexpected moments after bad weather, when if you’re lucky, the light just goes wild and magical.
    GD002491.jpg
  • Never a fan of broken snow, it's usually an all or nothing for me, I was nevertheless highly humoured in my solitude, finding this huge numeral written in snow on the summit of Foel Goch, maths and nature, not always a such a great mix.
    GD001405.jpg
  • 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.
    GD002154.jpg
  • The huge & imposing massif of Yr Wyddfa (Snowdon) Wales' highest mountain. This was taken following a last minute decision to slog up Mynydd Mawr under inclement weather but it resulted in just the most fantastic hour of weather-watching from it's summit. I was utterly gripped by the continual theatrical change of light being played out across the Snowdonia hills. If it were not for my friend feeling frozen I would have braved another hour or so of just sitting and watching.
    GD001343.jpg
  • I do love silence, well, silence from human noise at least. This evening was so quiet that I could hear the almost imperceptible sound of the rising tide creeping up the shoreline, spilling into tiny ripples in the sand banks and flooding into small sand pools. As often here on the Afon Menai, I could hear the isolated sounds of two waders, a solitary Oystercatcher flitting over the surface of the strait, and a Curlew feeding on the rapidly disappearing shoreline.<br />
.<br />
It was yet another dull summer day, wind, rain and eventually a heavy, deadening mizzle, and yet there was also a delicate beauty about the subtly changing scene. The grey sky-blanket wasn't really solid, but an ever-morphing backdrop of monochromatic tones, more like a vaporous dance of silks on a washing line.<br />
.<br />
Once again I sheltered under a huge brolly, a dark, warm cove of protection from the elements racing in from the open sea to the West. The landscape became a view, separated from me until I lowered the brolly and felt the full effect of wind-blown rain on my face, smacking me back to reality. It was hard to believe such a pastel scene could exist within the wintry elements all about.
    GD002498.jpg
  • Things will change after this weekend. the strange peace and quiet we’ve been enjoying, one of very few positives from this lockdown, will soon end. There has been an absence of noise; an absence of traffic jams; an absence of machines, from powerboats & jet-skis to cars & trail bikes. There has been a blissful near-absence of human activity and noticeably less litter in nature. From Monday however, when everyone in the UK can move around Wales again, this calm, this peace, this relatively unspoiled beauty will change dramatically. It’s been a gentle period that I don’t think I’ll ever forget. I will always remember seeing & hearing nature without human figures everywhere. I think we’ve had a glimpse at a time long past, when things were simpler and quieter & for some, more meditative. I do wish this peace would never change, but as I head for a holiday again I also recognise that it’s nothing more than a passing dream.
    GD002497.jpg
  • It was slightly nerve wracking walking out onto this old dissused jetty, with wave after wave splashing over my waist every second or so. It really felt as if I was walking on the surface of the sea at some points, and at others where the jetty had broken, I was walking IN the sea! My camera got soaked, my clothes got soaked but I enjoyed the experience anyway.
    GD002487.jpg
  • These rolling foothills form part of the Snowdon Massif but each have their own names, and are affectionately known collectively, as the 'roller coaster' by local hill walkers.
    GD001587.jpg
  • These rolling foothills form part of the Snowdon Massif but each have their own names, and are affectionately known collectively, as the 'roller coaster' by local hill walkers.
    GD001588.jpg
  • GD001498.jpg
  • These rolling foothills form part of the Snowdon Massif but each have their own names, and are affectionately known collectively, as the 'roller coaster' by local hill walkers.
    GD001589.jpg
  • Nominated in 9th (2016) International Colour Awards (Nature category)<br />
<br />
The undulating set of hills in the foreground is known as the roller-coaster by locals, the foothills to Wales' highest mountain, Snowdon, the name forming the root of the Snowdonia National Park, though Snowdon's real name is Celtic, Yr Wyddfa, & is the one dear to Welsh people. This hugely popular mountain is mostly deserted and offers perfect solitude as dusk settles upon it, the crowds having left by foot and railway to the warmth of the pubs and guest houses in the town nestling below.
    GD001748.jpg
  • The Llyn Peninsula in winter, seen from Northern Snowdonia, looking across the lower ridges of Snowdon, Foel Gron, Foel Goch, Moel Eilo, Mynydd Mawr, then Bwlch Mawr and Yr Eifl ib the far distance.
    GD000904.jpg
  • The Llyn Peninsula in winter, seen from Northern Snowdonia, looking across the lower ridges of Snowdon, Foel Gron, Foel Goch, Moel Eilo, Mynydd Mawr, then Bwlch Mawr and Yr Eifl ib the far distance.
    GD000911.jpg
  • En route to an afternoon in the Welsh hills, I stopped off to check the state of the snow, and just loved the light over the Strait, and in particular the way it highlighted Ynys Gorad Goch. Having just absorbed the view for a few minutes, it changed my mind from walking Drosgl, to walking Moel Eilio and Foel Goch instead ! :-)
    GD001393.jpg
  • En route to an afternoon in the Welsh hills, I stopped off to check the state of the snow, and just loved the light over the Strait, and in particular the way it highlighted Ynys Gorad Goch. Having just absorbed the view for a few minutes, it changed my mind from walking Drosgl, to walking Moel Eilio and Foel Goch instead ! :-)
    GD001394.jpg
  • Street lights at Gallt y foel in the town of Deiniolen, glow in a wintry, snow covered landscape, with the lowest slopes of Yr Wyddfa (Snowdon) in the background in shadow against a warm orange sunset.
    GD000874.jpg
  • I think most of my family, friends & followers of my work have seen how far I’ve been sinking since lockdown started back in Africa in March. I haven’t coped that well with losing access to one of the main cures for my darkness, getting out into the landscape & nature. It’s been a real battle internally and I felt I was losing a grip on what life was about, so many waves of loss, fear and entrapment. <br />
<br />
So with the latest minimal change to Welsh lockdown rules, and the ability to drive five miles to meet friends or get exercise, it’s been euphoric for me. My first walk up a small hill, just to be in the mountains again, was as if it was my first time! My heart literally was pounding with excitement and I found myself grinning constantly as I ascended the hill. I found it remarkable to just watch my feet in their walking shoes, taking steps up rocks and grass covered slopes. The wind was cold and I’d delayed the start of the walk to allow a heavy hail shower to pass over, but when the June sunshine appeared it bathed me in warmth and joy. <br />
<br />
From the summit I was able to see all the major peaks, the Carneddau, Tryfan, the Glyderau, Yr Wyddfa, Garnedd Elidir, and even Yr Eifel on the Llyn. A couple passed me on their way down and after an awkward, socially distanced acknowledgement as is the way these days, I saw no one for the rest of the time in the hills. It was the sort of solitude I yearn for, the solitude of choice not the solitude of jail.   <br />
<br />
Shortly before another heavy hail shower, which lasted almost half an hour, I found myself enchanted by the morphing dark clouds over the Carneddau, even their ominous depth seemed magical and awesome. Quite suddenly an intense beam of warm sunshine split the sombre scene and caressed its way up and over Foel Meirch until it ticked the shrouded summit of Carnedd Dafydd. It was my perfect light, theatrical and dramatic, a play with no characters, just backdrops. <br />
<br />
I sat on the summit, alone and happy in my own thou
    GD002484.jpg
  • Facebook
  • Twitter
x

Glyn Davies, Professional Photographer and Gallery

  • Portfolio
  • FULL IMAGE COLLECTION HERE
    • All Galleries
    • Search
    • Cart
    • Lightbox
    • Client Area
  • About Glyn
  • Awards & Media
  • Print Info
  • Exhibitions
  • Publications
  • Contact
  • Privacy & Personal Data
  • LATEST NEWS