Finding Balance

One Photograph

I love this photograph.

But I think a small part of the reason I love it so much has very little to do with what you see in the finished image.

I remember the experience of making it.

And isn’t that sometimes what landscape photography is really about?

Simply being there.

The weather was difficult, the landscape on South Uist felt wild and unsettled, and yet the photograph that emerged from it seems to possess an extraordinary sense of tranquility.

But that isn’t the only reason I’m so fond of it.

I’m immensely proud of this photograph simply as an image.

There are times when I look back at an image I have created and feel that everything has somehow come together. The composition, the tones, the balance, the space — nothing feels as though it needs to be added and, perhaps more importantly, nothing needs to be taken away.

I love the simplicity of it.

The pale beach gently leads my eye into the photograph, while that beautiful band of muted green water provides the slightest lift of colour against an otherwise subdued landscape. Above it sits this enormous dark sky, occupying much of the frame and giving the photograph its mood and weight.

It should perhaps feel oppressive.

But to me, it doesn’t.

There is a wonderful balance between the darkness of the sky and the softness of everything beneath it. The sea feels almost motionless. The distant landscape barely announces itself. Even the light seems restrained and subdued.

Nothing is shouting.

And perhaps that’s what gives me the greatest satisfaction when I look at this photograph. It feels complete. Not because it is technically perfect, or because something spectacular happened, but because all of its individual elements seem to belong together.

The colours, shapes, space and light have found their place.

There are photographs I’m proud of because of the memories attached to them.

I’m proud of this one because I think it’s beautiful.

And sometimes, that is reason enough.