The Isle of May, glimsped through the haze off the Fife coast (viewed from Pittenweem), on a gorgeously bright spring day (even the usually grey-green sea turned deep blue by the lovely weather):
The cherry blossoms have been late this spring, after the unseasonable bursts of late winter weather a few weeks ago, but finally it warmed up, the sun shone, they came out, and now they’ve mostly gone already – for a few days the branches hang low and heavy with the petals, then with each breeze they flutter down, a soft rain of silk, carpeting the pavement below, and then they are gone again for another year. Naturally I snapped a few photos before the vanished…
Out walking along the nearby Union Canal a few days ago, the first properly spring weekend of the year – we’ve had nice, bright days but usually still cold, this was sunny and also warm for the first time in the year. Beautiful light and the welcome return of colour to the world after the long, dark winter. It happens every year and yet each year it still seems like some wonderful magic as the dullness of winter suddenly gives way to a riot of vibrant colours:
I have always found the way light reflects from water to be entrancing, and as I walked under one of the canal bridges the bright spring sunshine was bouncing off the water and creating a flickering, rippling dancing pattern of changing light on the stonework. I had taken a photo then thought it would be better in video mode, just to capture the quality of the patterns and movement. In still photo mode it looked better in monochrome (I’m not a fan of altering my pics in PhotoShop, so when you see a black and white photo from me, it means I shot it in B&W, not colour then change in PhotoShop. I know I could do it that way, but it feels better to me to shoot in B&W if a scene feels like it works better in mono, rather than just greyscale it afterwards in an editor), and fortunately the video mode in the new camera allows me to shoot in mono as well as colour, so I took a few seconds:
Gorgeous late spring blossoms near my home, hanging heavy on the bough:
The pavement nearby is now carpeted in a fine layer of fallen petals, for a few days of the years only. I couldn’t resist raising my hand to the branches and running my fingers along through the petals; it was like touching softest silk…
Walking home from work the other evening, after weeks of pretty yucky weather we’ve had several days of glorious spring, gorgeous golden light over Edinburgh as I was walking home in the evening. I just got my new camera back from the repair shop the day before (after a couple of years of waiting to be able to buy it what happens? Freak accident just a couple of months after I got it, water bottle burst in my bag. Argh) and with such nice light I thought I’d try it out on the walk home. I heard wonderfully weird music that sounded familiar and indeed it was – as I passed the Adam Smith monument near Mercat Cross I found Edgar Guerreiro playing his musical saw, the delightfully eerie sounds drifting out over the Royal Mile.
I’ve seen “The Saw Man” a few times on the Royal Mile, but more usually during the Festival in the summer, so was nice surprise to see him playing the Mile at this time of year. I put a few shekels in his collection box and since he was rather handily facing right towards the evening sun I had great natural light to take a couple of portrait pics.
Edinburgh this evening:
Actually shot from top of double decker bus as it stopped on North Bridge (which connects Old Town and the Georgian-era New Town, giving some great views over the city as it does so). Normally you’re not meant to shoot pointing the lens straight into the sun or any other light source, it flares everything out and causes light streaks, lines and blobs, but I pressed the lens up against the window (to minimise reflections) and took it anyway, the colours were too nice, and besides I kind of like the light blobs and lines that resulted. Now gone from sun having set just a little before I leave work to now setting just after I leave, slowly nudging into spring and longer, lighter hours.
Out at the weekend with dad, visiting Field of Bannockburn, the memorial to the incredibly pivotal battle which secured Scottish independence against the violent Plantagenet tyranny spreading across the British Isles, and changing the way the history of these islands would play out. The sun came out from behind the clouds and in the distance, looking towards Callendar we could see this magnificent site:
Where the already impressive hills of Scotland start to rise into majestic mountains, still covered in winter snow but now basking in early spring sunshine, glittering and shining, gateway to the Highlands, the great stone spine of Caledonia and a reminder that our Scotland boasts the most beautiful scenery in the whole of the British Isles.
Walking home today after a frankly dispiriting and depressing birthday (you know it’s not going to be a special day when the post arrives with several bills and no cards, not inspiring and it was downhill from there – should have stayed in bed and waited for the day to go away), passing the trees in the playground of a nearby school and more examples of how the bizarre weather is affecting plants: blossom petals appearing on the trees.
These would normally be a March to April sight, but although we’ve been battered by gale-force storms repeatedly this month and lashing rain and floods, and despite those driving winds being bitingly cold, the actual ambient temperature has been way above what we would normally have in Scotland at this time of year. When I was home last week dad pointed out shoots of Daffodils pushing through the earth in the garden, this week I see spring blossoms in December. Strange weather, lately…
It’s early springtime in Scotland. That would explain the snow on the Castle’s roofs and battlements then…
At last, very belatedly signs of spring here – walking home tonight it was a fine spring evening, glorious light quality, bright, clear. I noticed a lot of daffodils in full bloom, a full two months late – those should have been in bloom back in March but such was the appallingly, unseasonably cold (even for Scotland)weather for much of this spring they are only now blooming. It was so nice I went slightly out of my way to walk along the Union Canal on the walk home from work, and saw that – finally – the blossoms on the trees are starting to flower, again weeks later than they should (really they should have flowered and fallen by now leaving carpets of soft white and pink petals across the pavements). Normally I would shoot these delicate petals and the clear, blue dome of sky above in colour, but for some reason I felt like trying them in monochrome and actually I’m quite pleased with how they came out, which I attribute to the beautiful light quality more than my own eye.
Walking home from work, for once the sun had come out, end of the day in very early spring, sun already low in the sky now dipping towards the western horizon, casting copper light and long shadows over Edinburgh’s spectacular skyline:
A zoom in on some details of the crowded roofs of the tall buildings of the Old Town, with the spire of the Tron Kirk visible on the Royal Mile, rising above them, the peak of Arthur’s Seat prominent in the background:
I thought this one worked as a sort of cross-section of the Old Town, showing off the old structures which descend the steep sides of the volcanic ridge which the Old Town lies on – it’s a city of many levels, Edinburgh, and that’s before you consider what’s below ground too…
The beautiful, almost wedding cake architecture of Ramsay Gardens, surely one of the most unique set of dwelling places in the British Isles, sat literally right by the esplanade of Edinburgh Castle at the top of the Old town’s volcanic ridge, commanding views out across the 18th century New Town towards the mighty Firth of Forth, seen here catching the last rays of a spring day sun…