Blind optimism is a new feature in my life. As a Scot I tend towards the pessimistic, if not downright suicidal, but when I am out with the camera I become such an optimist.
I set off for Allonby on the Cumbrian coast in glorious sunshine, thinking that the clear blue skies would allow the last light of the days sun onto the lovely rippled beach 5 hours later. For three hours as I explored the beach the sun shone and I soaked up the first warmth of the year - Spring? As I set up my tripod at 16:00, thinking the sun went down at 17:30, I knew I would have one and a half hours to enjoy and capture my chosen composition before the sun set. Except for the giant stratocumulus cloud moving in front of the sun! A giant cloud with a finger width and height gap at the bottom. Perhaps the sun would pass behind this gap letting it’s golden rays through. As 17:30 approached there was no light to be seen anywhere. The scene was bleak and grey like my soul. Checking my tide tables though I found out that the sun didn’t set till 17:52, leaving another 20 mins till the sun might approach my little gap which amazingly hadn’t moved despite the rest of the sky skudding by in the high winds. 17:50, I daren’t believe it, the sun moves into that little gap, not clearly, a thin layer of cloud in front acting as a giant red filter casting low red light across the scene for a couple of minutes before sinking below the horizon leaving me breathless and ecstatic.
Maybe it would be better to call me hopeful.
Nikon D2X, 12-24mm lens @ 13mm, 0.8s @ f/11 ISO 100, lee 0.3ND grad
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