pembrokeshire

Aurora Borealis in Pembrokeshire

in

Probably a bit late to the party now and maybe everyone's phone has run out of green and magenta ink but here's a dump of everything else I got on that special night. Friday felt like it had been a long time coming; I used to go out and take pictures a lot at night and on several occasions over the last decade or so I have ventured out especially because there was aurora forecast this far South. When I have been out on those nights I've had a nice time squinting at the sky but more often than not have come home with pictures showing a slight pink colouration and not much else. I went to Iceland a few years ago and came home with some amazing pictures of the Northern lights in their natural habitat but never thought I'd see such a powerful display here in Pembs.

pembrokeshire aurora

I headed to the North coast because I've always wanted to get some shots of aurora at the harbour here. I had a go a few months ago when cloud ruined the chance but seeing it was clear and even a nice temperature outside I had high hopes given the reports that contained exciting phrases such as 'huge sun spots', 'solar flares', 'coronal mass ejections' and a 'huge geomagnetic storm under way'. I arrived at twilight and it wasn't long before it was possible to see a pale band of light across the sky which although not that impressive to the naked eye, I knew would show up on the camera and was a good indication that there was some activity. As I jogged over to the other side of the harbour, the night had become darker and arriving out of breath at the top of the steps I could see more impressive pillars of light in the sky. The next hour or so was spent dashing from place to place, trying to enjoy the awesome display, trying to make pictures and cursing the fact I'd forgotten my headtorch, only brought one lens and the fact that my tripod has gone lame in one leg. When things (and I) started to calm down a bit I stood a while and watched the moon dropping towards the horizon whilst gentle bands of light undulated silently in the heavens above a hushed sea.

My gosh it was lovely. Truly one of the wonders of nature. I'm not sure how many reminders Gaia has to send us that the greatest things we see on this planet are not created by us but by the forces around us. I'm not so sure these days that knowledge is power or even sets us free as it feels like there is a lot to be gained by a regular humbling served up by nature that lets us feel our insignificance in this universe as our distant ancestors would have felt before we could explain it all. Would we not be better off feeling a little more fear of our ultimate powerlessness and mortality? The same greens and pinks we saw in the sky on Friday are to be found on the carapace of the tiniest beetles or in the plumage of the birds in our gardens whose interests we are doing such an awful job of protecting. Anything of beauty that humans create is always poor in comparison when we really stop and look at it and it's way past the time we stated treating the planet with the reverence it deserves.

These shots are pretty much in chronological order from twilight and the first flushes to around 1am and the last remnants of the more powerful bursts.

Valero Refinery

in

Not the usual views from Pembrokeshire, but the industrial side of the county has always fascinated me. Around the Milford Haven waterway, the contrast between the natural, ancient beauty of the county and the modern landscape is stark and the reality of the technology that we still rely on for our everyday needs is clear to see. There’s not many places you can get a look at the refinery without access so I was only able to shoot these images on a long lens through the chainlink perimeter fence.

I found an interesting article here on the history of the Haven but this made me laugh as some might say it still has a ring of truth…

The haven had been used as a significant port since the Middle Ages but the modern-day town of Milford did not exist until 1792 when the first of the Nantucket Quakers arrived in west Wales from America and quickly made it their home.

Seven whaling families, fleeing from the American War of Independence, were encouraged to settle in the town by Sir William Hamilton, who was granted permission by Act of Parliament in 1790 to "provide Quays, Docks, Piers and other erections" and develop a new town.

Milford at this time was a rather bleak, unpopulated and undeveloped area with only a few scattered houses, two roads, and no amenities. The Quaker-whalers found it a strange experience, with one commenting: "Wales being a conquered country and the peasantry and yeomanry still speaking a different language from their conquerors, their civilisation did not keep pace with that of England. It was allowed to be a hundred years behind, and the manners and customs of all classes were of course very different from those of the English."

Snow in Pembrokeshire

in ,

Being coastal we don’t see a lot of snow as the proximity of the sea and the prevailing Westerly winds generally keep the temperature too high for snow. Wednesday night was an exception with North and Easterly winds bringing a good couple of inches overnight. Seeing that the sun was rising with dramatic skies I flew the drone to get a good look at the scene and was glad I had batteries charged and ready to go. Seeing a familiar landscape under snow always brings a different dimension, and with amazing light it all made for some pretty unique views of my local spot.

Porthgain to Abereiddy

in

I decided to go out on a proper photography mission last week with the intention of really trying to get some good shots in poor weather. It was something of a retro trip out to a favourite local walk I’ve done hundreds of times and I went with a fairly basic kit; just my 24-105 f4 which was the first lens I got when I got a serious camera. It’s a great lens and very versatile but sometimes it’s tempting to carry a heavy bag with a longer lens or to chuck in a fast prime ‘just in case’. The 105 gives enough length to get some compression in your shots and 24 is wide enough for most purposes so it’s a decent choice for a day out. The gallery below is in fairly chronological order starting with a shot through the wet windscreen out to the harbour at Porthgain while I waited for the rain to stop. I spent a lot of time on Traeth Llyfn trying to find a composition that worked. With the sun low in the southern sky and obscured by thick cloud it meant that the light was flat but also the far end of the beach was dull and in the shadow of what light there was. I tried a few long exposure shots but had difficulty finding a good angle on the rocky outcrops that stretch out like fingers from the cliffs at the back of the beach. Trying to find something for the foreground wasn’t really working for me until I got my feet wet and tried some long exposures with an ND filter smoothing out the textures in the water and sky. I’d gone out partly with the pictures of Michael Kenna in my head and was somewhat successful in getting what I wanted out of some of the shots.

I spent a good amount of time on the beach and was reminded why landscape photography (at least the way I do it) is best as a solitary activity. Walking back and forth along the beach and occasionally cursing myself and walking back to a spot I’d abandoned because I felt like there was definitely a shot to be had from a certain spot if I could just work harder to find it. Some textural shots from a closer study of the rocks and then I was ready to walk on before the tide started to threaten my safe departure. Walking around the corner towards Abereiddy provided a nice portrait of a sheep lit by the sun which was starting to find more gaps in the cloud before I arrived at quite a popular little lookout over the headland and beyond to the hills above St Davids. I got a nice sunset shot looking southwest along the coast with the elevation enough to get a good view. I’ve taken a few shots here over the years but not sure how many have been blessed with such nice light, the only one I processed in colour. After that it was time to head for home, slipping along those muddy winter paths.

Riverside

in

A walk along the river at Lawrenny today and a trip to see a tree that I’d seen a picture of a long while ago but hadn’t got around to going to have a look at for myself. A gnarled and twisted old snag on the river bank. Its always a pleasure to spend a bit of time on the river, sandpipers, teal and egret fed in the mud and an old fox emerged into the sun on the far bank to sniff the air before slinking off.

A new word for me today - In forest ecology, a snag refers to a standing, dead or dying tree, often missing a top or most of the smaller branches.