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June 2006
It was the last day of my trip in Snowdonia, and it hadn’t stopped pouring with rain during my whole time there while I had been hoping to be out taking photographs in the Welsh mountains. My camera hadn’t even been out of my rucksack yet, that was how dismal it had been.
The weather forecast the previous evening had said that I would again be waking up to more rain on my final morning in the region, so I decided to have a relative lie in, waking up only to eat breakfast at the B&B and then make the long drive back home. It hadn’t however been a wasted trip. I had undertaken quite a good recce of the area and had made lots of notes on good viewpoints and which times of day would be best to take photographs of them. But not having exposed any film is always a disappointment and despite my best and cheerful effort, I couldn’t help but feel that it was somewhat a failed visit.
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Snowdon Horseshoe across Llynnau Mymbyr. |
However, when I opened my eyes at 7am, the light trying to burst through the drawn curtains of my room gave me a glimmer of hope. It seemed quite strong and bright, and I was full of excitement that possibly, hopefully, the girl on the weather forecast had got it wrong the night before. I leapt out of bed and eagerly pulled back the side of the curtain to see what it really was like outside. A bright blue sky with a few high wispy cirrus clouds greeted me, and I was overjoyed! This was finally my chance. I had been given this one opportunity to take some photographs before I had to leave later that morning. I quickly put on some clothes, without stopping to even brush my teeth or my hair, and grabbed my camera bag and headed out of the door. I had spent some of the time that it had been raining by scouting for locations, and there was a great spot just down the road that I knew would be perfect with the morning light. I drove the mile or so to the side of the twin lake Llynnau Mymbyr where, on the opposite shore, the Snowdon Horseshoe was being bathed in morning sunshine.
There were some low clouds encircling the Horseshoe, and with every passing minute, they would swirl and move around the mountain creating new images. Sometimes completely obscuring the mountain, and at other times giving only a tantalising glance.
I took out my camera, loaded it with film, and headed from where the car was parked at the side of the road, down a small slop to the edge of the lake only a few meters away. The viewpoint is a classic photograph, probably one of the most famous of the area, so the challenge was always going to be to take a picture that was slightly more unusual. The view from the side of the road is so good that many people fail to walk the few short meters to the side of the lake where the foreground is so much better. Around most of the shore are large boulders, but in some places, wild flowers are the main interest.
The lake itself was perfectly still, reflecting the mountains on the opposite shore. However, as I was setting up my tripod ready to take my first photograph, a couple of swimmers decided to take an early morning dip and dived in just beside me. Slightly frustrated by them disturbing the perfection and swimming straight through the centre of my field of view, I decided to move slightly further round the lake. This was my first and last chance to get some pictures, and I wasn’t going to let anyone else compromise my search for the elusive picture.
After half an hour by the lake, the light had lost its fantastic early morning quality, so I decided to head back to the B&B for a shower and some breakfast, before it was too late. By the time I came out of my shower, the clouds had rolled in and it had turned into yet another grey and miserable day. But at least I had finally exposed some film.
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