Winter Scotland 2023
Nightfall comes early in February and March. The short daylight hours force a certain presence of mind, for there is no time to waste, but equally no rush. An evening with a good book is hardly wasted time. For a brief moment each day, while the sun shines so to speak (if it shines at all), I lose myself in the landscape and in photography. With daylight comes periods of extreme intensity and focus, balanced by the evening’s space for reflection. This surrendering is utterly imperative to my photographic process. I need to give myself over to the rhythm of nature, to feel its oscillation between moments of drama and calm, in order to feel apart of my surroundings. Scotland is so very good at this quick wardrobe change. One moment the winds are whipping clouds overhead, and the following mountains are reflecting perfectly off of the lochs.
This is not a dualistic relationship, however. Both of these states of being are codependent and shape the very landscape into what Nan Shepard calls “The Living Mountain”:
“For the mountain is one, and indivisible, and rock, soil, water and air are no more integral to it than what grows from the soil and breathes the air. All are aspects of one entity, the Living Mountain.”
It is, after all, the strong winds that force Scots Pine to hunker down low to the mountain, to twist and contort for survival. The heavy rains (and glaciers of the past) carve the valleys. When I walk through these landscapes, I too become one and indivisible from the mountain. It is this symbiosis that I seek to photograph.
Each image is available as a fine art print; please head over to my galleries where you can navigate to the selected image.
Highlands & Torridon
Winter is becoming synonymous to me with two months of exploration in Scotland, from the Highlands to the Isles. An annualised ritual is being born that I hope to continue for some time. This first gallery below is the start of my journey through these places, and in many ways, a reflection of a journey within myself.
The first weeks were spent between the Highlands and Torridon, two areas that continually astound me with their varied beauty. I spent time revisiting some favourite areas, as well as seeking out new views. Winter proper only showed its face for a brief 24 hour period right at the end of my time in these areas, but I was prepared. An early morning hike up into the mountains took me deep into a wonderland of snow and ice.
Assynt & Coigach
Further north lies the great open spaces of Assynt & Coigach, a veritable playground for landscape photography. The week spent here was fairly spontaneous, following my nose and my instincts, reacting to the weather around me. I could feel that I was drawn more and more to intimate scenes as the trip went on, and so I leant into this urge. The resulting photographs reflect this, with images ranging from the tops of mountains to right in camp, but all with a sense of clarity and focus.
Lewis & Harris
Some of my most joyous time was spent on the Isles of Lewis & Harris. These remote islands provide a space of solitude. I spent nearly two weeks revisiting some of my favourite beaches time and time again, witnessing them in different conditions and at different tides. A keen sense of the important details of a landscape can be found when photographing this way. Winter finally arrived at the tail end of my trip, and with it came some extraordinary white snow beaches and enchanted squalls.
Thank you for taking the time to look at these images. Each image is available as a fine art print; please head over to my galleries where you can navigate to the selected image.
