|
April 2007
I finally made it through the nightmare traffic in Swansea and arrived at my destination – Rhossili Bay in the south west of the Gower peninsula – about two
hours before sunset. Just enough time to drop my luggage off in the B&B and go for a quick recce before putting my camera into action.
I had checked the weather forecast before I left home, and it was looking good – balmy even for the end of March, with mild temperatures and sunshine being
forecast. In fact, I was so optimistic about the weather that I even decided to leave my thermal base layers at home. However, despite the warm temperature,
it was extremely hazy and straight away I could see that wide views would not be possible. I had to think of an alternative. I knew that I wanted to photograph
Worm’s Head – a rocky outcrop that extends out into the sea at the end of the bay. The classic view of this feature is to photograph it from the sandy beach
of Rhossili Bay with the shipwreck of the Helvetia jutting out of the sand as the foreground. Yet from that distance, Worm’s Head was just too hazy. I needed
to get closer to it. So I walked up to the cliff top instead.
I stood at the edge of the cliff. The scene was already composed in my viewfinder. I was just waiting for the sun to slowly make its descent to the hazy
horizon and to start colouring the sky with its golden glow. Now that the sun was not shining its full daytime strength onto me, it was feeling decidedly
nippy, especially from the top of the cliff with the chilly wind blowing in over the sea. I started to regret leaving those thermals back in my chest of
drawers at home and I began stomping around to keep the blood flowing in my legs.
 |
Worm's Head, Gower peninsula, Wales. |
It’s funny how when you’re waiting and the cold is slowly seeping into your bones, that it seems that the sun sets at an unnaturally slow pace, as if the
world has temporarily stopped spinning. Yet if the sky is a glorious golden and red, and you’re clicking away on the shutter, the sun appears to make its
disappearance below the horizon far faster than you would have liked. And today, it was definitely dragging its heels.
As I waited and waited, it got colder and colder. And darker and darker. And the sun barely made an impact on the hazy sky. I almost gave up waiting several
times. I was freezing cold, the sky was just getting blacker and you could hardly see the horizon anyway. But experience has taught me that if you walk away,
you’ll undoubtedly regret it, so I persevered, and good old Velvia pulled through for me, enhancing the pale pink that was glowing around the sun.
I never got to see that spectacular sunset I was hoping for, but at least I did manage a few decent photographs. However, next time I’ll pack my thermals, no
matter what the weather forecast says.
< Back
|
