(Nearly) White Christmas

Well, it wasn’t a White Christmas, but it was very nearly – this was the view from the parental mansion on December 26th:

Winter Hills 01

We have a great view of the vast, ancient geological vastness of the Campsie Fells, a volcanic formation (some of the dried lava flows on it are dated to around 300 million years ago, give or take a few millennia).

Winter Hills 02

Porty Scenes

A few photographs from a couple of recent jaunts down to Portobello, Edinburgh’s seafront. It has been remarkably mild for mid November, and the Promenade, the cafes on it, and the beach, were all busy, people making the most of the fact that it’s not bitterly freezing (yet!), while paddleboarders, yachters and rowers (and even some brave swimmers) were enjoying the waters. Late afternoon, and the low winter sun was already too far down, so the Prom and much of the beach was in shadow already, but out on the Firth of Forth, Inchkeith was caught in the golden rays of the last hour of light of a winter’s day, while the Fife coast behind was wreathed in haar (click the pic for the larger versions on my Flickr).

Magical Island Floating In The Light Of The Setting Sun

Looking at the sea

Life's A Beach 03

A sea view is lovely, but it is nicer when shared

Life's A Beach 04

Some folks were happily playing beach volleyball – not something you see a lot of on a Scottish beach in November, normally!

Life's A Beach 05

Cooking on the beach!

Porty Life 01

Busy, busy, busy: Porty Prom!

Porty Life 02

The Little Green Van is a fixture on Porty Prom at the weekend, usually close to the swimming pool. As well as serving up coastal coffees and other treats, they have padded cushions in case you want to sit on the sea wall with your drink!

Little Green Van 05

Little Green Van 06

Couple sharing a moment on Porty Beach

Porty Life 07

Autumn reflections

In a quiet loop of the River Forth just outside Stirling, dad and I found late afternoon – just an hour or so of daylight left on the short, winter’s day now – on a bright day was perfect, casting golden light, with the still water creating some wonderful reflections of old, rotting boat hulks on the muddy banks, some nearby industrial buildings and the Ochil Hills.

Autumnal Reflections On The Forth 01

Autumnal Reflections On The Forth 02

Autumnal Reflections On The Forth 06

In the distance in this one, you can see the tall, Victorian-era Wallace Monument, which celebrates the life of the great Scottish hero of the Wars of Independence, Sir William Wallace, whose greatest victory was at Stirling Bridge, not far from this spot.

Autumnal Reflections On The Forth 08

The Ochil Hills were catching the lat hour of daylight, the sun so low in the skies now it was stretched out to a beautiful, honey-gold colour. The river was very calm, this loop fairly far from the main roads, so also quiet and peaceful, just the sounds of the birds on the river.

Autumnal Reflections On The Forth 04

Autumnal Reflections On The Forth 09

Autumnal Reflections On The Forth 03

Autumnal Reflections On The Forth 012

Rolling Waves

Tried a wee experiment this afternoon – I rarely use the video mode on my camera, but it has a facility to shoot in a smaller format than the usual widescreen version, but in a high 120 frames per second rate. It was high tide at North Berwick, and with a cold wind blowing down the coast from the Arctic, the swell was high and the waves topped with whitecaps, so I thought I would try the 120 fps mode looking out to the sea and the Bass Rock, and found it slowed the motion down in a rather nice way. Not sure what else I may try using that mode for, but quite liked the effect here:

Video - Bass Rock and Waves 120fps

And here’s a still of the Bass Rock today with the same camera:

Bass Rock and Rolling Waves

Meanwhile in Portobello this morning, after I had been in for a job interview I walked round to the promenade and had lunch by the beach, where I noticed this chap taking advantage of the coastal winds to enjoy some kite surfing:

Riding the Wind 01

Riding the Wind 03

Riding the Wind 02

Last light of day

Quick shot from the family mansion yesterday while I was through visiting dad. Sun declining rapidly, the vast geological bulk of the Campsie Hills already fallen into deep shadow, only a single bar of copper light from the setting sun across the summit line of the hills, the low clouds curling over the top and glowing in the last few moments of light. Only lasted a short time, light, hills, clouds just so, ever so briefly, glad I managed to capture it:

union of cloud and hills blessed by last rays of the day

Winter sun and rising mists…

Dad and I were out and about last weekend, glorious golden winter sunlight, sun low, low, low in the skies now (sunset is now well before 4pm as we move into winter, and the longest night/shortest day is still weeks away). From the top of the Tak Me Doon Road between the Carron Valley and Kilsyth we got these views looking down, the last of the sunlight warming high ground on one side, the other in shadows because of the low sun, the temperature differential creating beautiful, soft, ephemeral mists, but not actually at ground level, hovering a bit higher up, like a blanket of light mist draped over the valley below:

winter sunlight in mist 02

I couldn’t resist this – seen in the last half hour or so of the short daylight, this bare, winter tree silhouetted against the mist, which was turning this beautiful warm copper colour as the sun rapidly declined in the east:

winter sunlight in mist 03

winter sunlight in mist 04

A little earlier we had been round the back of the Campsie Hills and past the Carron Valley reservoir – again the mist rising in the gap between weak winter sunlight on one side and shadows on the other, and again hovering not at ground (or in this case water) level but several feet above it. Utterly gorgeous to take in; while I’m glad some photos came out I’ve got to say they don’t really do justice to how it looked to the naked eye. To say nothing of the feel of it – peaceful, very, very quiet, hardly any other cars passing on the rural road, no town noises, no wind that day, only the sound from some waterfowl, the amber winter sunlight, the long, long shadows and that soft silence, the world screened out by the hills around us:

Carron Reservoir, winter day 05

Carron Reservoir, winter day 04

Carron Reservoir, winter day 01

And one last one, from earlier in the afternoon, from the top of the Crow Road on the Campsie Hills, looking west down into the valley below – all this just a short car ride from the busiest city in Scotland…

winter sunlight in mist 05

Cloudscape, skyscape, landscape: Scottish river, Scottish sky

Crossing the Tay rail bridge at the weekend, a bright, sharp but chill Easter weekend. As the bridge curves across the mighty Firth of Tay towards Dundee the river was at low tide, still as a mirror and reflecting the cloudscape above beautifully. It was a glorious Scottish landscape to view from the train and I didn’t expect any shots taken through the window from a moving train to come out very well, but sometimes little experimental shots like that work and you get something beautiful like this:

crossing the Tay 01

Changing light on the landscape

changing weather, changing light 01

Out with my dad a few days ago, one of those days where we had bright sunlight, rain, hail and more all within minutes of one another. May make the weather unpredictable for going out but it also means constantly changing quality of light, something I rather love in Scotland, it makes even scenes you’ve seen many times before look different. We had driven up and over the Campsie Hills (a range of extinct volcanoes a little north of Glasgow) and coming down the far side towards Fintry we pulled over to watch a band of sun and rain move along the hills and mountains in the north. Above you can clearly see Ben Lomond, the most southerly of the Scottish Munros – a Munro is a mountain over 3000 feet and hill walkers and climbers who try to do all of them and tick them off are known as Munro Baggers – which is in the Trossachs and Loch Lomond National Park, still snowcapped as you can see even in late April, caught here in shafts of sunlight from gaps in the cloud while dark curtains of rain flicker over the other summits nearby.

changing weather, changing light 02

You can see huge areas such as the foreground in deep gloomy shadows from the heavy clouds overhead, some of the peaks in the distance being hammered with rain, others basking in sun (we watched the sun and rain move along the whole range in a few minutes), if you click on the pics to go the larger images on the Woolamaloo Flickr you can even see some smaller, lower clouds floating around below the actual peaks themselves. All this landscape beauty is just a short drive from Scotland’s largest city – it’s one of the reasons I love living in Scotland, even in the middle of a city you are never far from our landscape. Here where I live in Edinburgh I can catch glimpses of the Pentland Hills from the middle of town, or views down to the might river Forth and the hills of Fife on the other side. Best of both worlds.