001 // A Rude Awakening

There's still a few hours of sleep to catch if I can curb the excitement.

It’s just gone 3am and the smoke alarm in my cabin is blaring. I’m zipped up to the neck in my sleeping bag and in the darkness, in my sleepy state, it’s not a sleeping bag anymore, it’s a straight jacket. My husband is thrashing about beside me, besieged with the same confusion and panic. My eyes and my brain slowly start to adjust and my fingers remember the way to the zip. I’m finally out and the cabin is freezing cold. Outside the air is thick with fog and the promise of some spectacular sunrise conditions.

We’re bedded down for the night in a tiny little cabin down one of Scotland’s prettiest glens. The smoke alarm was a rude awakening but there’s still a few hours of sleep to catch if I can curb the excitement. We crawl back inside our sleeping bags, alarms set for 6:30am.

Watching the light change and the mist come and go at sunrise.

I shared my intro post and accompanying note a few weeks ago and thought it might be good to kick off this journal with the story behind those photographs and what is still for me, one of the most humbling mornings that I’ve experienced as a photographer. So I’ve been in amongst my archives for 2 weeks as I write this, unearthing memories and processing some shots that, for some reason, I’d overlooked back then.¹

My high tech method of planning a trip.

It’s October, my favourite month in Scotland and we’re on a road trip. I love a road trip! I’ve planned in 2 weeks of touring with various camping spots and the odd bed and breakfast for a cosier night. We’re into the final few days of what has been an incredible trip and have arrived at Glen Cannich. With full bellies, we set off to catch the last of the sun’s rays. There’s just enough time to grab a few reflection shots before the light is gone but, it’s got me really excited for what the next day will bring.

This was originally a discarded shot. Now, I look at it and remember that evening and the overblown sky, the beams of light coming down through a pretty huge cloud just off camera and I love it. No time for filters or tripods in that moment. It completely captures the atmosphere. I’m also a fan of a little lens flare here and there.

This is my third visit to the area. My first was a family break back in the 90s and I’ve loved it ever since. We stepped out of the car that day and were instantly greeted by dozens of Chaffinches hopping around our feet. My Great Aunty had some crumbs² so of course I was the one on the ground with my hands in the dirt while everyone took pictures.

My second visit brought me back to scatter my Mum’s ashes. She had fallen in love with the place and it’s charming birds, so it felt like the perfect spot for her.

Feeding the Chaffinches circa 1995.

Day 2 is cloudy and the light is flat. It’s not my favourite weather for photography but it is perfect for exploring and earmarking spots to come back to. Or what I like to call ‘a reccie’. There are dozens of walks in and around the glen, Munro’s to climb, multi day traverses, gorges and waterfalls to enjoy. It feels very remote and wild.

As the day comes to a close, the sun makes a brief appearance but it’s enough to catch a few frames and attempt a panorama to see if the composition works.

Another originally discarded shot. I instead favoured a cropped in image and never even attempted to process the pano at all. I love that little lone golden tree out to the left.

Day 3, our final morning of the trip and no surprise, we’ve overslept that 6:30am alarm. Peering through the steamed up windows, the thick fog now looks gloomy and heavy and my heart starts to sink a little. It’s bone chillingly cold as we bundle into the car and make our way over to Glen Affric, to the same spot we’d finished up at the previous night.

Five minutes down the road and my excitement returns. The sun is turning everything it touches to gold. The fog is thinning and becoming a swirling mist, slowly peeling back to reveal more of the landscape, the lochs, the Caledonian Pines.

I can’t set up my tripod and camera quick enough and I’m torn between framing up the shot I’d come for and turning to capture the ever changing mist through the forest. It’s stunning and exhilarating and I genuinely can’t believe my luck after yesterday’s weather.

We’ve got the entire area all to ourselves and I settle in to my work as the light and mist slowly move. It’s a fine balance between too much and too little.

The birds are singing and chirping and waking up the forest. High up on the slopes, Red Deer stags start to make their presence known, their bellows echoing through the glen. They’re ready for the annual rut.

The shot I’d come back for that morning.

Two hours have passed before we finally start to pack up as the sun has reached deeper into the glen and the final strands of mist are all but gone.

The day before, I’d spotted an old Scots Pine not too far away with a beautiful shape that I wanted to spend some time with. We got there to find it sat in the perfect position, slightly backlit, leaning towards the low sun. The light picking up the spider webs festooned between the clumps of heather.

Back at the campsite, we’re ready for a hearty breakfast and stop in at the local cafe. Our trip is over, but it’s ended on an enormous high that I’ve enjoyed all over again going through my photos to share with you. Glen Affric is special. Finishing our trip there had been a deliberate return to somewhere that I hope remains that way forever.

There’s so much more to tell from that trip. For now, I’ll leave you with a few more photos.

The sunset shot I’d favoured over the panorama. Taken just moments before.

Another pano that I didn’t give a chance originally.

Yet another unprocessed image that’s been hiding until now.

Mist still burning off where the sun was yet to reach hours after sunrise.

1. Like many photographers when they get home from such an exhilarating trip, I looked through my memory cards excitedly cherry picking the best and quickly forgetting about the others. Indulged in days of processing and placing my favourites on my website for all to see, even shared a few on social media. I haven’t revisited those folders in 10 years! Looking at the images again these past two weeks, I’m struck by how much my creative process has grown, how much my style has grown and how the images I’m drawn to and want to make has expanded. If I were back there right now, I’d have taken 10 times the amount of photos and been less ‘picky’ about what I chose to photograph and subsequently process.

2. My Great Aunty was the loveliest human and would never see a bird go hungry. She had crumbs, while my Great Uncle always had some sort of cheese in his pocket and a folding knife.