I could just make out the outline of Errisbeg in the darkness as I approached Roundstone, and when I parked I started to doubt my own plans. My intention was to climb Errisbeg in the twilight in the hope that I may get high enough to get a shot of Dog's Bay and Gurteen Bay as the dawn broke. But it was only just getting light and the mountain looks far more formidable when you're looking up at it than it does on the map. Having recently borrowed a digital luggage scale I knew that my fully laden camera bag weighs nearly 11.5kg so I left the tripod and one camera body in the car to
After the usual false starts and frustrations around this time of year I finally got up early one morning and headed out with my new camera. I wasn't going far, just 20 minutes west to Spiddal. I had planned to get a long exposure of the pier under an overcast sky, but when I arrived at the location during the blue hour, before I'd even parked the car I could see that I wasn't going to be able to get the shot that I was after as I'd neglected to notice that street lights run the length of the pier. The lights would create several blown-out orbs in the image. The desire to try out my new
I thought that I had already posted this colour version of my Portlairge image to my blog, but I recently noticed that I hadn't. So here it is, almost a year later. Better late than never, eh? I prefer the colour version as it makes the mural stand out so much better.
I'd been closely monitoring the conditions in Sligo and I headed there on a day when I figured that I had the best chance of a bit of snow on the mountains. I planned to be at Strandhill beach for dawn to catch high tide. As I drove in I could see that the waves were wild and that there was snow on the Ox Mountains. I had planned to use my 50mm lens and to incorporate the broad sweep of the beach but I found that it caused the mountains to be too insignificant, so I swapped for my 85mm lens and forsook most of the beach. I stayed just long enough for the sun to pop up over the horizon a
My parents and their friends were due to travel to Kinsale for the weekend of Wales v Ireland in the 6 Nations Rugby tournament and I planned to drive down to meet them. Of course, I also scheduled in some time for myself with my camera in scenic County Cork. Unfortunately Storm Ciara hit Ireland the very same weekend. Which meant high winds, lots of rain and very little chance of me getting any shots. Still I kept checking the forecast for even a slight chance to get out with my camera at some point. I had planned to explore the area near Gougane Barra. I'd been there years
I'd been kind of put off trying to photograph Poulnabrone dolmen because it's such a popular spot. A car park and information boards is one thing but a rope around the dolmen really spoils the magic. However, I'd gotten a notion to try it in fog. The fog that morning was some of the most spectacular that I'd ever seen. Ostensibly the entire country was covered but when I drove up to Poulnabrone - which is at a high altitude - it was incredibly thick. I shot the dolmen from several angles but I'm not sure whether or not the fog actually added anything to the image. Usually fog lifts
I'd first attempted to photograph the jetties on Lough Derg at Twomilegate almost a year previously and it hadn't gone well. At the time I'd decided not to attempt it again but eventually I changed my mind and thought it would look good in thick fog. Two of the three weather apps that I use predicted fog at dawn. I awoke before my alarm and prized my eyes open to check the weather once more. It seemed that the fog was predicted to move to the west of Lough Derg, but the conditions for fog were still present so I thought that I had a pretty good chance. When I turned off the motorway I
I knew I was going to be at my first location too early and that the sun would be in the wrong place but I'd deliberately picked a day of rain showers in the hope that I'd get dark clouds with a few spotlights picking out the landscape. I stood at the side of Lough Fee and watched what the light was doing. It was windy enough that I had to wrap my arm around my tripod. I watched as the wind created whirlpools on the lake's surface. They were large and impressive and when one dissipated another would start up in a different spot. I'd never seen it happen before and it made up for the fact
I've been visiting County Wexford for over 10 years (my wife is from there) but it was only this June that I learnt about the Portlairge wreck in Bannow Bay when I read about it in a blog post on Kieran Russell's website. I was very excited about having such an interesting subject to photograph only 10 minutes away from where I stay when in Wexford and at the tail end of October I finally got my chance on the morning before my family and I caught the ferry to Wales for my brother's wedding. It had been a long time since I'd photographed something that required checking the tide times.
After a summer of late night carousing I find I have to gently ease myself back into my landscape photography regime. I try to pick from my accumulated list of locations somewhere that won't require me getting up too early or driving too far. I'd had two false starts already - one where I didn't have money for diesel and one where I had to be in work on the day that I had picked out - but I was headed north west from Galway on a whole day of my favourite weather (rain showers). Unfortunately I had only got as far as Maam Cross when my wife phoned to tell me that she was sick and that