The call of the wild
The light ebbed and flowed illuminating the Glen all around me. The well known shape of Buachaille Etive Mòr was off to my right. To my left stretched the empty vastness of Rannoch. I remember driving through this place when I was a youngster. My mind full of Lord of The Rings. It is just as striking now as it was then. Each time I pick up that book I am transported back to the highlands and further north to the wastes of Torridon. Empty remote places just seem to strike a chord in me. Not just photographically but possibly spiritually. It’s not driven from the desire for space either physical or emotional, I think it’s something deeper. That call of the wild perhaps or one hundred other clichés. Each time I come here a fleeting thought passes through my mind. How did early humans cope in this unforgiving place. How cosseted we have all become.
- The Glen itself
- Glen Orchy
Scattered light, Glen Coe
I stood and froze. The wind was 60mph. The snow had turned to hail. Drifts were being tossed around. Winter in its full fury through the Glen. A piece of skin exposed on my hand. Frost nip appeared days later – a momento of that magical time
The Buachaille, Winter Dawn
I have been avoiding photographing it for years. All my visits to this area I have pointed my camera elsewhere. Purposely away from it or if I do have to include it then it becomes a small part of the frame. Why? Because it’s so damn popular that you feel that all the images have been taken before. In my my mind another shot of the Buachaille is not required! Yet that beautiful crisp winter dawn I found my tripod in all too familiar position. I just couldn’t help myself. Honest