To Drone or Not to Drone? Photographing Postbridge in Dartmoor
Postbridge Clapper Bridge has spent years languishing on my landscape photography bucket list, yet I had never quite managed to capture the scene I held in my mind’s eye. For me, the magic lies in framing both the historic 14th century clapper bridge and the neighbouring 18th century road bridge together in a single shot.
The lay of the land, however, presents a devilish little topographical challenge, a hurdle that could easily be solved by gaining just a few extra feet of altitude. The very altitude, of course, that has been denied to me by a foolish obligation to pay for trivial luxuries like food and shelter rather than vital camera gear.
A Splendidly Still Evening in Looe: Landscapes, Litigious Gulls, and Geopolitical Blunders
Looe is, under normal circumstances, famously picturesque. Lately, however, it has achieved a fresh layer of notoriety as one of the primary Beyond Paradise filming locations. For reasons that defy rational human intellect, the television show’s producers saw fit to declare that this quintessentially Cornish town is actually located in Devon. This is a geographical insult so profound to the local populace that it’s a minor miracle the show’s weekly murder count isn’t significantly higher.
Landscape Photography at Looe Island: A Sunrise Guide for the Sleep Deprived
All that remained was the small, localized tragedy of setting an alarm for 4:30 am.
To look at my portfolio, you might reasonably conclude that I am a man who views sleep as a redundant hobby. I can assure you this is not the case. My duvet is a formidable opponent, capable of pinning me down with the strength of a professional wrestler. It was only the looming, mountainous spectre of my impending credit card bill that finally goaded me out of bed.
A Fool's Guide to Photography
I won’t lie, there's a small, resentful part of me that always hopes the whole thing will be a bust. That the sky will simply turn to a dull, uninspired grey, just so I can feel smugly justified in my lack of effort. But alas, on this particular evening, my cynicism was thoroughly misplaced. The sky erupted into a riot of crimson and gold, a spectacle so breathtaking it almost made me forget my own grumbling nature. I just stood there, watching the hues deepen, and I couldn't help but wonder if somewhere down in Australia or New Zealand, a fellow shutterbug was cursing their alarm clock for not having woken them up sooner.
Sharp Tor, Dartmeet: Battling Parking Meters for Dartmoor's Golden Hour (Photography Adventure)
My quarry this morning? Sharp Tor, Dartmeet, on the eastern flank of Dartmoor. Now, these Tor chaps, they really lacked imagination, didn’t they? Sharp Tor? There are a few, apparently, leading to a rather spirited debate with my sat-nav, which, bless its digital heart, seemed convinced we were headed north, not east. I, of course, had done my homework, like a particularly keen, if slightly over-caffeinated, schoolboy. Yartor Down car park, shortest walk, I’d read. Shortest, yes. But they rather glossed over the bit where you plummet into a valley so steep, even a Sherpa would raise an eyebrow and say, “You’re having a laugh, mate.”