Holy Island Sunrise
Photography is primarily about developing personal vision: learning to see anew, if you like, though this time through lenses, as you strive to master the limitless perspectives they offer.
It is also about hard work, planning, knowing your subject/object, understanding light, the seasons, angles, hard-earned experience and myriad other details.
And occasionally – very occasionally – its about good luck.
We were running late for this early morning visit to Holy Island / Lindisfarne, didn’t know where to park the car when we got there and it was by no means certain whether the light was going to put on a show at all.
And even when day started to dawn in such spectacular fashion, I was so transfixed by the silhouette of a solitary sunrise-watcher, set against the glowing Lindisfarne embers (above), that I nearly missed the main event (below).
I still don’t know if I prefer the first image, of a solitary soul silhouetted on a bench, mainly because of its appeal to the imagination (and its potential to suggest more stories), though its a close call.
I’ve spent countless hours awaiting sunrises and sunsets of similar caliber, so I was glad of the gifted opportunity to capture both (and more) at the first attempt. Anyhow, I consider occasional luck fair reward for all those times the light failed to appear at the end of a long wait.
In the first series of Robson Green’s Northumberlamd, Robson takes stock of a relatively mediocre showing of light and states that “you can see why the monks came here.”
On the contrary, the monks were making a retreat away from the realm of the senses, not moving to where they could be more fully indulged. Even so, I’m sure there was many a morning when other-worldly eyes were pulled away from morning prayer by scenes akin to these, which might tempt even the most ascetic of Hermits into a grudging worldly smile.