For those of you who know that my wife’s name is Heather, please don’t be alarmed. No guns were involved! Nor was my wife. Heather, also known as calluna vulgaris, is of course the extremely hardy low-growing flowering shrub which dominates the moorlands and colours them mauve in the month of August.

We have a large swathe of it almost literally outside our back door, covering what’s known locally as “the moss”, a stretch of boggy turf where nothing else grows. However, the surroundings are not particularly photogenic and for some years it has been an ambition to photograph the heather in the much more dramatic setting of the Mournes.

Timing is always a challenge, just as it is with autumn colour. There is a period of a few weeks each year when the flowers are at their best but precisely when is hard to predict, On previous occasions we had been too late, as you can see from the above photo taken on August 18 above Ben Crom reservoir: some colour remains but it has largely faded. This year, with all kinds of schedule challenges, we only managed six days earlier. It proved to be enough.

On this occasion we made for a different location, on the opposite side of Binian, the large mountain in the photo above. Our goal was Slievenaglogh.

Thankfully, this was a much shorter and slightly easier hike, which involved heading towards Hare’s Gap before crossing the stream and slowly (in my case) ascending the side of the mountain.

On the lower slopes the heather was rather patchy and faded but the distant view of the higher slopes through my telephoto lens looked much more promising so we kept heading upwards.

It was a glorious afternoon and I was glad of the frequent stops on the way up the mountain as I was labouring in the heat and under the weight of my backpack. I had chosen to bring my heaviest lens - the Sigma 100-400 - in the hope of photographing smaller details within the landscape. In the end, however, while I managed a photo of a sheep, I could easily have done without the extra weight. A mistake I won’t make next time!

At least I knew that my water supply would be used up by the time we were heading back, which meant the load would be lighter. The same went for the food I had packed. I had packed it, hadn’t I?

The awful truth dawned. My sandwiches were still in the cool bag back in the car! Not good. I don’t do hunger well: low blood sugars, increased grumpiness, as well as dark mutterings to self about my growing senility. Steven saved the day by insisting I shared his sandwich! (Marvellous man!)

The view unfolded as we gained height, becoming more and more spectacular while all the time the heather thickened and the colour grew more intense. Finally we found what we knew would be our main composition.

Our plan was to have Binnian as dominant as possible in the frame, using the walking paths to lead diagonally through the frame up to the Mourne wall, and filling the foreground with heather. The semi-circle of rocks provided a great structure to hold the composition together.

The sun was pouring into the valley from our right, just as we had hoped. Our only concern was that the clouds would disappear, as the forecast had warned and that we would be left with a beautiful but empty sky. So I hurriedly took a few shots while there was still some detail left.

As promised, the sky duly cleared a few moments later. All we could do was to wait and see. It was a reminder again of how in landscape photography, as in so much of life, we are dependent on factors beyond our control. Arriving early, waiting, staying late and, if necessary, returning again and again, year after year, that’s the name of the game.

On this occasion, however, waiting was eventually rewarded as,much to our delight, some dramatic clouds began to sweep in over Binnian just as the sun was beginning to set. The display didn’t last long but with some frantic scrabbling around I managed two different compositions.

By the time I set up for a panorama, the clouds had largely moved away.

With the sun now set we packed up and headed back down the mountain. There was still a wonderful glow in the sky and looking back towards Binnian I noticed a new cloud formation was picking up the last of the sunset light. There was only time for a handheld shot before the colour faded.

It was time to head for the car, reflecting thankfully once again on why I love landscape photography so much and how I never want to take it for granted, especially now in my 69th year. The challenge of it, not just physically but technically and aesthetically. The opportunity to breathe the air of the mountains, to feel the rocks and smell the heather. The opportunity to create a memory, perhaps even a piece of photographic art to share, bringing the captured light to others.

There is so much chaos and ugliness in our world. But it is not the only story. There is beauty too.