A Photographer's Paradise?

I expect that many of us have a place we love to go to find new inspiration, a few moments respite from the clamour of the normal, to reflect, to remember, to be renewed, even to pray.

In recent years for me that place has become Ballintoy Harbour and the surrounding coastline. In the four years since we moved to the country I've been there more times than I can count.

I was brought up in a home where the National Geographic Magazine regularly provided a glimpse of the world beyond.

I devoured its pages.

“No, that’s not quite true: I devoured its photographs.”

Yosemite. Yellowstone. Monument Valley. I have a vivid memory of being awestruck when my older brother returned home with slides from his visit to the Grand Canyon. (For those who don't know, 'slides' were basically tiny transparencies produced from film which you then projected onto a screen.)

One day perhaps I'll get to see one of these places. Or perhaps not. I'm sure it would be amazing despite the crowds. Yet that's the thing. I could only see them as a tourist. I might capture them photographically in the best of light.

But they would always only be an exotic place I visited once. And there is benefit to that. Who wouldn't want to see such places in person?

But they aren't home.

They aren't close to being home. They aren't even close. Ballintoy is. Twenty-five minutes of meandering roads, negotiating tractors and watching the seasons change in the fields before the anticipation of that first sight of the sea, and then the white church and the harbour itself.

(Ballintoy Parish Church, which you pass on the way down to the harbour, photographed on a prior visit. Complete with Aurora!)

It isn't that there are no crowds. Tourist numbers are increasing year on year. But I can stay after they have gone. I can go in fair weather and foul. If I rise early I can often enjoy it for hours before seeing another soul. I can get to know it.

And that's one of the great benefits of staying local, of keeping going back, of developing a personal relationship with a place. A place for all seasons and all seasons of the soul.

For a few months, I hadn't been, concerned perhaps that familiarity might breed contempt. But this week took me back and I'm glad it did for it was one of those moody, changeable, beautiful April evenings.

There is so much to savour here, from grand vistas to tiny details. So many viewpoints from which to shoot high or low, west to north-east.

There are old buildings, weathered posts, boats (not in winter) and the rusty remnants of a busy harbour of bygone years. So much to enjoy without a camera or with.

There are rocks and rock pools, inlets and coves, stony beaches and sandy beaches, headlands and islands and on good days glimpses of distant Scotland.

I've photographed gannets diving for fish, noisy gulls, screaming oyster catches and mysterious ravens. Eider ducks bob on the water and occasionally porpoises put on a spectacular display in the cold waters of the North Atlantic.

A short walk from the harbour brings you to a little cove where there is marram grass, a tiny sandy beach, giant limestone stacks and great views of Sheep Island, with Rathlin Island beyond.

“Days of strong seas are particularly exciting here, especially when the tide is high.”

It can also be very conducive to black and white photography, to bring out the drama of the scene on such days.

And like in so many places on these islands the light can change so quickly. On this particular day a passing storm caught the low sun and the mood changed in an instant.

And then there is sunset. This day was particularly windy so there was no chance to use a tripod. It was all I could do to stand relatively still to catch the sudden display.

I wasn't the only one. Look carefully and you will see a person with their phone held in front of them, no doubt thrilled like me to be there for the moment. And then the rain came!

It seemed like photography was over for the day. But I wondered down to the stony beach, with a photographer friend who had joined me, to witness the last light of the day.

All these photographs and more came from one evening at Ballintoy Harbour (apart from the aurora).

Of course, it isn't always like this. Sometimes it is even better! It isn't paradise. But as we say around here: "It'll do"!

A day on Ireland's beautiful north coast

I've discovered that landscape photography is a lot about waiting, hoping and heading home disappointed.  

It's also a lot about getting up early, staying out late... and heading home disappointed.  

That's because we are all waiting for that moment of special light, that most often occurs towards the extremes of the day, or in extremes of weather - or both.  

Often that moment doesn't come.  

“(Oh the tyranny of so-called ‘epic’ light!)”

So it was refreshing last week to have a 'reason' simply to go out with my camera, a couple of lenses and no expectations! The reason was to showcase some of the beauty of the north coast to a friend from the USA.  

Only one day suited, when both of us were free.  There was no need to consult weather apps or tide charts.  

“We were going out, end of story.”

As I say, it was refreshing.  Simply to be out in the landscape, to feel the wind on my face, to watch the ever changing patterns of light and shade, to explore the angles and to share friendship and food.  

We began on the heights of Binevenagh, where the Antrim plateau comes to a very abrupt end.  We were unable to start at sunrise, which proved a blessing because we would have been starting in the rain!

By the time we got to our location, the low rain clouds had cleared away to the north and the view over Magilligan point towards Innishowen and the Atlantic ocean had opened up.  

We spent some time here exploring the rocky outcrops and the few small but determined lone trees. 

As some of you know in recent months I have been transitioning (I think) away from my full-frame Nikon to using the lighter and more nimble Fujifilm XT2.  

For a while I tried to alternate between systems but found that I was simply falling back to what I knew and not really getting to know the new camera.  

So I took the decision to shoot exclusively with the Fuji film for at least three months and see what happened. 

I'm still in that three month period, but I have to say I'm enjoying myself!  

I've also tried to lighten the load as far as my tripod is concerned, but that hasn't gone so well.  

This morning on Binevenagh the lightweight tripod was of little use in the strong breeze but at least the light was good enough to shoot hand-held.

Next stop was the strand at Downhill, with its beautiful sand beneath the cliff where Mussenden Temple perches precariously.

One of the tiny rivers that flows across the beach provided a useful lead-in to the scene beyond.

We also got our knees dirty getting down low to capture the contours in the sand left by the receding tide.

It is one of many superb beaches along the north coast and one of the few where it is possible to bring the car.

From the beach we headed to the top of the cliff to explore the Downhill estate.

The buildings are spectacular but I have to confess I was more excited to discover something that has become so rare it is almost extinct: a hay meadow, full of beautiful grasses and wildflowers, including orchids.

“So I spent my time hunting orchids and photographing the meadow with the ruins in the background.”

The vibrancy and freshness of early summer contrasted well with the ancient ruins and the strong sense of transient human history.

“The jewel in the crown of Downhill estate is of course Mussenden Temple. ”

It was built in 1785 by the colourful Earl-Bishop Frederick Hervey.

Based on the Temple of Vesta in Italy, itonce housed the bishop's library.  It bears this inscription: " 'Tis pleasant safely tobehold, from shore, the rolling ship and hear the tempest roar."

The building can be hired for different purposes these days.  Indeed while we were there the BBC were setting up for a concert.

Next we headed across the River Bann to Portstewart, noting as we drove to the strand the impressive preparations being made for the Irish Open Golf Championship to be held there in early July.

The weather was at its best here.  We decided to forego late lunch and have an early dinner instead at Harry's Shack so that we could explore and photograph the beach,the rocks and the sand dunes.

The wind was considerably weaker than up on the cliffsso I was able to use my tripod to have a bit of fun experimenting with long exposures.

After dinner we set out for Dunluce Castle, stopping briefly at the promenade in Portstewart.

On the way to the castle we passed the car park at Magheracross, where we had earlier stopped to take in one of the best sweeping views of the coastline.

Dunluce is always an enthralling surprise, its dramatic setting on the rugged cliffs reflecting its long and tumultuous history.

The clouds were beginning to build in from the west, with the sun occasionally bursting through, spot-lighting the sea and the Skerries.

It seemed an ideal opportunity to experiment with Black & White, since the contrast was so strong.

The weather continued to close in as we headed further along the coast.  

We decided not to stop at the Giant's Causeway as my friend had been there previously,but instead to finish the day at Ballintoy harbour.

For a few moments the clouds coloured from the setting sun, a fitting end to our day.

I loved the way the light was catching the unsettled water in the harbour.  

But I also wanted to try to capture the movement of the boats, so I brought out the tripod again, sheltered by the harbour wall, and went for another long exposure (5 seconds) 

Thad the paradoxical effect of calming the sea while showing the agitation of the blue rope and the boat that was tugging on it.

No doubt we could have covered more territory if we had really pushed ourselves. But it wasn't a race.  

There's lots more for another day.  

“It’s amazing how much can be done within a twelve hour period.”

Why not give it a try sometime?

My Year In Retrospect

Is it just me or does each year seems to go faster?

“A single year is now only one sixtieth of my life’s experience! ”

Photographically it has been such a stimulating and fun experience.  Each new season has brought with it dramatic weather, from the worst snow in decades to the most summer sunshine most of us can remember.  

The special highlight for me was the long awaited photo journey through the Highlands of Scotland under the expert tuition of professional photographer and friend Kieran Dodds.  

Yet close to home is my patch and to my amazement and delight  I am still discovering new places to photograph in the Glens and along our fabulous coastline.  

It hasn't been a big year for gear - learning to use better what I have has been challenge enough.  

However the biggest challenge, as always, has been to progress in the most important areas: vision, composition and understanding light.

Two of the most gratifying aspects of photography this year have been sharing the photos with more and more people (Facebook has provided lots of fun and feedback) and watching how some of the photographs have been used.  

Photos have found their way onto book and CD covers, a charity calendar, a restaurant and into homes - including our own!  There's nothing quite like seeing a 30x20 print, beautifully framed and hanging on the wall!

19 Photos From 2013

Here's a collection of some of my favourite photos taken over 2013. 

Reducing literally thousands of photos taken this year to a representative 19 has not been an easy task.

But here goes! 

1.  The Antrim Plateau

The early part of the year featured heavy snowfalls.  

My favourite shot from that period was taken on the Antrim plateau after I had to leave the car in a gateway and continue on foot to where I knew was an abandoned farmstead.  

In the still falling snow the silence was magical.  I feel it each time I look at the photo.

2.  Rathlin from Ballycastle

This year has seen many visits to the beach at Ballycastle, with its sweeping curve, iconic large rock, multi-coloured pebbles, wooden bridge and the Pan rocks.  

It is one of my favourite places to photograph.  It is also a great place to experiment with shutter speeds to capture movement (or indeed the lack of it) in the water.  

Northern Ireland photographer David Cleland has been a major inspiration here through his excellent e-book - 'The Long Exposure'.  Among many photographs taken there during the year this is probably the most memorable and dramatic.  

It was taken in February on a day of remarkable light - so remarkable that many of the walkers who would otherwise have been moving briskly along because of the cold simply stood staring.

3.  Wolfgangsee

I also had the opportunity to travel to Austria for a week in March.  

Even though the start of the trip was accompanied by glorious weather - blue skies, beautiful snow, stunning mountains - my favourite photos were taken in damp, miserable conditions!

This is one, taken during a cold walk with friends along the Wolfgangsee.

4.  The North Coast

April can usually be relied upon to provide dramatic light, especially on the coast and this year was no exception.

In between soakings one Friday early evening the sun burst through the storm clouds and lit up the iconic parish church at Ballintoy.  

A seagull fighting against the wind completed the picture.

5.  The Giant's Causeway

April was also the month of my sixtieth birthday and with it the present of a fisheye lens.

It certainly gives a different view of the world and seemed to fit well with the hexagonal shape of the rocks at the Giant's Causeway.  

6.  Innocence and wonder - Portstewart Strand

The long and surprisingly hot summer gave plenty of opportunity to take photographs of my granddaughter.  

One ambition was to capture her in a white dress on the strand at Portstewart towards sunset.  The opportunity when it came lasted only the few seconds it took for her to fall into the water and cover herself with sand.  

But the result was worth it and this remains one of my favourite pics I have ever taken.

7.  Slieve League

The summer also provided a brief opportunity to revisit Donegal and explore an area that until then was just a name on a map.  

This led to the discovery of the dramatic cliffs at Slieve League.

8.  Kinbane Castle

 There were also new places to discover on the North Coast - Kinbane Castle being one of them.  I had often noticed the signpost on the coast road but had never taken the road.

Having made my first visit there in the early afternoon, following the advice of a photographer I happened to meet in the car park, I decided to return for the dawn light at the next possible opportunity.

I was rewarded by one of the best photographic experience of the year.  This is one of many shots I took that morning.

9.  Fairhead

That same morning provided another of my favourite shots as I travelled towards home and noticed the changing colours of the sea and the sky towards Fairhead.

10.  The secret cove in Ballintoy

On photographer Gary McParland's excellent website I discovered another North Coast location that intrigued me.  It was a cove with a view of Sheep Island.  

By a process of elimination I came across it at Ballintoy.  

“I’ve since come across a number of people who call this their secret beach”

Repeated trips were rewarded by another wonderful dawn.  This time I was not alone - a number of other photographers were working the area.  

To my surprise they packed up and moved away just before the magic started and I had the beach to myself.

11.  The Dark Hedges

 That same morning, heading home for breakfast by my usual route which takes me through the Dark Hedges I again was surprised to find the area devoid of photographers for a change.  

There was mist in the early morning air and smoke from a nearby field added to the atmosphere.  

Out of many photographs of the Dark Hedges this is now my favourite.

12.  Stac Pollaidh

The highlight of the year photographically was the photo journey in the Highlands of Scotland, led by professional photographer Kieran Dodds.  

Although I have been in Scotland before, it has usually been to the cities.  Until this trip I had never been to Assynt, Wester Ross, Skye or Rannoch Moor.  

It was magnificent.

What a fabulous place for photography and we were blessed with the best kind of dramatic and varied weather.  

Here are a couple of my favourite shots.  Check out the gallery for more.

13.  The Cuillins from Elgol

14.  Buachaille Etive Mor on Rannoch Moor

This is the most photographed mountain in Scotland. 

15.  Portglenone

As you can see from these photographs Autumn was now in full swing and upon returning home I paid a couple of visits to Portglenone Forest.  

It is a great place for bluebells in the Spring.  What I hadn't appreciated is how wonderful it is in autumn.

16.  Slemish

17.  The Glens

 I had noticed this little cottage outside Cargan (between Glenravel and Glenarrif) some years ago and always planned to return.  

I managed it just after Christmas and the low winter sun provided a suitable atmosphere.

18.  Portstewart

 This year has witnessed many more attempts at capturing the landscape at the extremes of the day - dawn and dusk and from dusk to dawn.  

A recent photograph of Portstewart was taken during the 'blue' hour, when the warm glow of the street lighting looks its best against the deep blue of the sky after the sun has set.

19.  Ballintoy Harbour

I have also made a number of attempts to capture the landscape under starry skies and experimented with 'light painting' - using a torch to add light to objects in the foreground.  

The most successful by far, judging by the number of comments and Facebook 'likes' is this photo of the boat house at Ballintoy harbour.  

Happy New Year

I hope you have enjoyed this brief photographic journey through the year. Perhaps it will encourage you to 'get out more', to discover new places and even to take your camera with you?  

“There is beauty all around us if only we can make the time to see it and being able to share it through photography not only adds to the enjoyment but also helps us to see more.”

My grateful thanks to all of you who have encouraged me through the year - through messages on this website, through Facebook and in face-to-face conversation.  

I wish you a peaceful and joy-filled New Year.  

- Gilbert Lennox