Nocturnal Streets

Posted on May 20, 2026 by Joe

Nocturnal streets offer a different face to the daytime version – a busy, central area now quiet, almost no people, little traffic, all but deserted

All the same buildings are there, the traffic lights wink and change in their pattern, regardless of the lack of vehicles passing, but it is all just somewhat different, while still being the same place. I think that’s one of the reasons I like taking long exposure shots at night, it just reveals a version of the city your eye can’t see.

These were all improvised shots – I was coming home late from the cinema, and so no tripod with me. I had ten minutes to wait for a bus, so I set the timer and sat the camera on bollards, ledges and posts to steady it for a few shots while I waited, and this is what I got, all around Edinburgh Quay, the modern buildings around where the Union Canal now ends (although originally it continued on over the main road to an inland port nearby).

Sign of the Times

Posted on May 3, 2026 by Joe

I could be wrong, but I suspect this venue may well be some sort of drinking establishment…

Sakura Time!

Posted on April 27, 2026 by Joe

It’s that time of year when the cherry blossom trees are blooming with silken petals, all over the city. My favourite spot to enjoy them is in the Meadows, the huge, popular park in the middle of the city, which boasts two avenues lined with cherry trees, creating a “tree tunnel” you can walk through.

While I was stuck for those eight, long, dragging days in hospital, dreaming of being able to go outside again, I found myself thinking that the sakura would bloom within a few weeks, and I wanted to be out of hospital and also to be recovered enough to walk through it. I do this every year, but this year, with the cancer surgery and ongoing treatment (chemo now awaits… sigh) it felt more precious than ever. I was dreaming of walking under those branches, heavy with blossoms, with my friend on my arm.

So, each day since I got out and moved back to the family home, dad and I would go for small walks to help me build myself back up slowly, then after a week I moved back to Edinburgh to my own flat, continuing my walks each day. On one such walk I saw the blossoms were almost full, so arranged to come back a few days later with my friend, and we promenaded arm in arm under those delicate blossoms. The Meadows was full of happy people enjoying the burst of fine, spring weather and the arrival of the blossoms, just a lovely atmosphere, and, as I said, this time with everything I have been enduring, it just felt so much more precious to do this annual ritual.

And I shot a couple of “walk through” videos to go with the photos:

On the other side…

Posted on April 11, 2026 by Joe

So, that was quite the experience: towards the end of March I went in for major cancer surgery. It was thought if it all went to plan I would have a night in high dependency after the surgery, then several days in the ward being monitored to make sure everything was starting to work again after being taken apart and put back together (complete with very large scar across my body).

(view of the older part of the hospital, surrounded by modern extensions, taken on one of my recuperation exercise walks around the hospital corridors)

With some wrinkles it ended up being 8 days in hospital before finally going home. The staff were wonderful, supportive, friendly, we were well looked after, but you still yearn to go home.

Rather than return to my own flat by myself, my family picked me up and we drove back through to Glasgow so I could stay at the parental mansion with dad. It just felt like the more sensible thing to do, being very weak and tired and sore (and scarred and bruised), no bad thing to have someone there to keep an eye on me, just in case. It was good to be out though after 8 days, even though first day out it was windy, cold and raining, but dammit, it was outside and it felt good.

Dad and I took short excursions and walks each day, pacing ourselves (at the moment I don’t have to slow my walk to match dad, because I am so bloody slow). After a week staying back home, slowly getting better, I decided it was time to move back to Edinburgh, so last night was my first sleep in my own flat in my own bed in about 16 days. It felt a bit odd to be back, although also good. Out for another short walk today to try and build myself back up, slow walk to Harrison Park to the old boathouse, where I met up with a chum, and also, crucially, where I could sit down for a while to get my strength back for the walk home.

(early morning light casting shadows and light beams across a hospital corridor, taken during my hospital stay during an exercise walk)

I’m not out of the woods yet, and there is more than likely more treatment to come, most likely some form of chemo, which of course I am less than happy about – feels like my poor body has been violated enough already, frankly. But if it needs done, it needs done, and at least the major surgery part is now in my rear view mirror. It’s still going to be weeks of getting my strength back though, but taking it one day at a time. And still taking photos, of course. Even managed a couple of pics while walking around the hospital for exercise.

(I rarely do selfies, but this was my first, full day out of hospital after 8 days, and the relief of standing outside, even in rain and wind, was just wonderful)

Spring blooms, but brings bad news

Posted on March 23, 2026 by Joe

So, after a particularly dismal winter – even by Scottish standards, we had so many back to back days of grey clouds and rain that even the brief winter daytime was dark – spring is starting to bloom here. Still cold in mornings and evenings, or in the shade, but when the golden light comes out, it’s gorgeous, it’s warm, and the colours of vibrant flowers glow in that light like life itself, such a welcome sight after the winter months.

However, the great turning of the seasonal wheel has, for me at least, also brought some bads news. Actually pretty awful news. My doctor noticed some anomalies in recent blood tests and wanted to investigate, and set me up for some sample tests and the dreaded camera going where no camera has ever gone before. He suspected something like a bleeding ulcer causing blood and iron loss. It wasn’t. It was cancer.

That’s not something you want to hear a medical team tell you. I knew before they spoke, to be honest. After getting dressed I met the team who examined me in a room, and they all had their heads down looking at their papers, and I knew from the body language it was bad news, and so it was. Shock and fear does not begin to cover being told you have cancer, that your body’s own cells are betraying you right as you sit there hearing the news. Worse still, I had to tell my father this news, which felt almost as bad as being given the damned news. How do you tell the people you love that you have cancer? I would love to spare them the worry, but I can’t hide this, and they have a right to know, but it still felt awful, as if I was unloading this horror onto them.

The NHS stepped into high gear, organising more scans as quickly as possible to get a better picture of what was happening inside me. The wait for results was nerve-wracking, as I literally had no idea how bad it could be until they told me. I found myself literally shaking just before my oncology appointment. I’ve been scared before, who hasn’t? But I have never had fear shakes, until now. I am cutting myself some slack as I think that was pretty understandable; I literally had no idea what they were going to tell me, was it curable or was I going to be condemned to a slow, horrible decline and death? You’re trying to stay positive, but your mind is thinking of all the worst case scenarios, and the dreadful fact is you simply don’t know until they have the results, you are in a limbo.

Long story short, they found it before it spread my organs, so it is treatable. I am going for major surgery imminently. They can’t be certain if that will be enough, or if I may require chemo later. I am praying not, because I have had people I love go through that, and it is brutal, and the idea of enduring major surgery just to find I need even more, harsher treatment is so unfair and scary I don’t know where to start. But it may not come to that, and one thing at a time.

I’ve had so much warm love and support from my family and my friends – my lovely wee bookshop family have been so protective of me. Pain and discomfort have been growing in the last couple of weeks, which is putting me in the “just get this over and fixed, please” zone, trumping the fear of surgery. But it is still damned scary, in fact it is bloody terrifyng. And this is a situation so many people will find themselves in. We all know people we love who have been through similar. Scary as it is, the main thing is they think this is treatable.

(walking Princes Street Gardens in spring light)

(The Ross Fountain in full spray – frozen solid just a few weeks back, now back to delighting visitors)

So, before I go dark for a few days, I am taking some moments to post about this on here, but also to share some photos of my gorgeous Edinburgh in spring sunight, the Earth renewing itself for a new season, and I am taking that renewal of life as a good omen for me (and I need those right now), and because I wanted to post something beautiful against all the personal horror I’m enduring right now, and the collective horror our entire world seems to be going through right now, to remind us all there is still magic and beauty and we need to pause and drink it in and cherish it, and let that light fill us so the darkness never wins. Easier said than done, I know, but we have to.

I hope to be recovered enough in a few weeks in time for the cherry blossoms to come out so I can take more photos of them again. I will walk under that avenue of sakura in the Meadows with my friends with the blossoms falling around us. I will. And I will share those photos as I always do.

Blue Hour Reflections

Posted on March 4, 2026 by Joe

Walking home this week, and while it is still dark by the time I leave work, with it being lighter till a little later every day as we move into spring, there was a smidgen of blue light in the western sky. I didn’t have the tripod with me, so sat the camera in timer mode on the stone wall by the Walker Bridge over the Union Canal, where it runs between rows of Victorian tenements.

And I was lucky enough to catch this gorgeous Moon rise over the Union Canal, as dusk fell, the Moon chasing the setting sun across the sky.

Night Vision

Posted on February 18, 2026 by Joe

While many are depressed by the long, dark, winter nights in Scotland (dark by around 3.30pm by mid-winter), I tend to take the chance to snap some night shots of the city. I’m always fascinated by the way the camera, on a long exposure, can drink in more light to see more than the human eye can, and also how different the city seems at night, or how different again on wet nights to dry nights.

Dusk skies, the very tail-end of Blue Hour, just that little hint of fading colour in the western sky.

A wet evening by the Union Canal – the wiggly line you can see is a “light trail”, caused by a passing light caught in the long exposure into a line. When it is on a car or bicycle, it tends to be a smooth line, here it is dipping up down like a sine wave because it was a head torch on a jogger running alongside the canal

Passing traffic creating light trails on a wet evening

Warp speed!!! A double decker bus, caught on a long exposure as it passed, creating this interesting light effect.

The Union Canal at night, the upper pic around a four second exposure, the lower image was a much longer (thirty seconds) exposure, capturing more light, even that light reflecting in the water and puddles, and a long, white light trail from the lamp on front of a passing bicycle, the bike itself invisible in the long exposure, only the light coming out as a solid line.

Picking up their dinner – person going into a restaurant at night, Dalry Road.

Travelling by light beams – traffic stretched out into light trails by long exposure shots

Light trails crossing the junction at Townhead, Kirkintilloch.

Lights in the Darkness – The festive lights at the Botanics

Posted on December 15, 2025 by Joe

For all the years I have lived in Edinburgh, I have never visited the annual festive sound and light show the Royal Botanic Gardens does each December. I’ve visited this huge site many times, to walk the enormous Gardens and the different plants and areas, plus the impressive, Victorian glass houses and palm tree houses, but during the day. A dear friend was marking a major birthday, so a bunch of us all went together for the long walk, which takes you right round the massive site.

Fortunately there are several areas dotted around the entire walk where you can stop to warm up and enjoy some food and drink!

Stars in the night…

Water lilies in the Asian section of the Gardens!

November Night, Edinburgh

Posted on November 24, 2025 by Joe

Some poetry from the great Scottish bard, Norman MacCaig:

Edinburgh By Night

Posted on November 9, 2025 by Joe

With the British Summer Time ending and the return to good, old GMT, and the clocks going back an hour, it is now dark well before we finish work, and getting darker earlier every day now. For some this brings on SAD (Seasonally Affected Disorder), where the long, dark hours and scant few hours of daylight can cause problems. Not so much for me, as I am a Gothic Fiend and rather like the night, and also as a photographer I have, since I was a kid, been fascinated by the different faces the city wears after dark, and the way the camera lens, able to stay open for several seconds, can drink in more light to show more than the eye can see.

Bakehouse Noir – the Mor Bakehouse on Hunter Square, next to the Royal Mile. The contrast between the bright, warm lights inside and the dark street outside was begging for a monochrome shot.

The distinctive “crown” tower of Saint Giles Cathedral lit up poppy-red for the Remembrance weekend, as were many other prominent buildings in the city, including the Balmoral Hotel, Edinburgh Castle and the Bank of Scotland building on the Mound.

Shopping after dark – one of the (far too many) tourist tat shops that now infest the Royal Mile.

Thorne Records at night, the excellent Indie record store near our bookshop, where I get most of my vinyl.

Huge moon rising over the buildings of the Quartermile, in the old Royal Infirmary grounds, on the other side of the Meadows. Could have used a longer exposure, but I didn’t have the tripod with me, so was just sitting the camera on a handy railing, but it wasn’t steady enough for a much longer exposure.

Light trails from passing traffic in Gorgie

Waiting in the darkness; person sitting alone on a bench at night by the Union Canal

The green barge; houseboat at night, on the Union Canal

Light trails along the canalside towpath – the rear one is from a cyclist, the very squiggly one in the foreground is a jogger who had a light on their head, which was bobbing around, creating this unusual pattern on the long exposure

A view eastward along the Union Canal at night, rows of modern, waterfront townhouses and moored houseboats on the right

More light trails (I do like capturing a light trail or motion blur with long exposures), this time on Southbridge, where it meets Chambers Street.

Restaurant at night, George IV Bridge

Looking along George IV Bridge at night

Traffic passing by the old China Merchant behind the Museum of Scotland, which has been there in that location since before I moved to Edinburgh many years back.

Tail end of Blue Hour over the Union Canal at Fountainbridge

Window shopping on Princes Street after dark

Nocturnal coffees

Night trams.

Autumn arrives

Posted on September 2, 2025 by Joe

After a day of mixed weather, going from sunlight to showers and back, it was quite nice on the walk home from work, so I detoured through the old boneyard near my flat, to take some pics of the chestnut tree.

The sun was declining, the lower parts of the tree were in evening shadow already, but the upper branches and leaves and chestnuts were catching that copper-coloured, last hour of sunlight, so I zoomed in to catch a few close-ups.

I got quite lucky with some close focus shots – bokeh, as it is often called, where the object in the foreground is sharp and the background a soft blur.

And what is autumn without more chestnuts?

EIFF 2025 – Dead Lover

Posted on August 24, 2025 by Joe

EIFF 2025 – Dead Lover,
Grace Glowicki,
Starring Grace Glowicki, Leah Doz, Lowen Morrow, Ben Petrie

Another of the wonderfully out-there selection from this year’s Midnight Madness strand, and, oh boy, this one was a total hoot! Using a tiny main cast of four actors, each of whom plays multiple roles (adopting very obvious disguises and accents for maximum comedic effect), and all shot on a set using minimal décor with strategically placed lighting, Glowicki, who co-writes, directs and stars (as the Gravedigger) conjures a delightfully fun romp riffing on Frankenstein.

The Gravedigger (Glowicki in brilliant make-up and with an amazing range of facial expressions) is love-lorn – she comes from a long line of grave diggers, and has been doing the job so long no—one will come near her because she now has a permanent stink of the grave about her. Even the priest at the burials asks her to keep her distance. Desperate for a lover of her own, how is she to achieve this when nobody can stand being within a few feet of her?

She turns to her books and experiments in her shack in the boneyard, trying various concoctions to disguise her sepulchral scent, to little avail. However when burying the deceased wife of The Widower (Lowen Morrow, playing a comedy cross between Poe and Byron), sister to The Poet (Ben Petrie), the Poet runs off, overcome with grief, straight into the Deep Dark Woods, where, naturally, he is at once attacked by a wolf, which the Gravedigger saves him from. On scenting her unique aroma he is far from repelled, in fact he is intoxicated. A man who has wallowed in all the outrageous and scandalous pleasures, here he has found a new taboo-breaking one, and soon pledges eternal love to the Gravedigger, to her delight.

Sadly, the course of true love never runs smooth, even in an oddball horror-comedy, and returning from a voyage (to have his naughty bits restored to health, no less), his ship is wrecked, and the Poet is lost, only his finger with the ring she gave him saved by a dementedly daft group of fishermen with incomprehensible accents (all played by the main four actors again), who return it to the Gravedigger. She turns to her books and chemicals to try and restore her lover from the finger, leading to, shall we say, a partial success, but not quite what she’s looking for, so digging up bodies it shall be…

The lo-fi sets and sheer sense of fun here were a delight – Glowicki was hoping to be at the Festival, but being heavily pregnant couldn’t travel, so she sent a recorded message to show before the film, and she told everyone not to think about it too much, that it was made to be fun, so just take it that way, and she’s right. If you laughed at Mike Cheslik’s brilliantly bonkers Hundreds of Beavers, this has a similar feel – low budget but with invention making the most of what they have, and a small group just trying to have and make something fun.

This review was originally penned for Live For Films

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