As is becoming all too common on this blog, this isn’t the scene I set out to capture when I jumped in the car on Saturday evening and head for Silverdale. But then if there were no surprises I guess life would be that bit worse for it and photography less creative.
So in my mind I was bound for the secluded north end of Morecambe Bay to wait for the clear sky to darken and morph into a deep blue twilight. I was far too early, the burning sun still spreading its golden rays over the bay as it collided with and then sank behind the Furness peninsula. The sky wasn’t even clear as the forecast had suggested, but it was the V-formation of cloud that I now realised was going to make the shot – and it was in no rush to drift out of the frame.
Composing to capitalise on the symmetry offered by diagonally aligned clouds over the rocky outcrop and then balancing it out with a solitary tree to the right, all I had to do was wait for the light to soften and add colour to the scene.
It was peaceful, and for somebody that seems to spend half their life in search of silence and an escape from the world, Jenny Brown’s Point provided just that for an hour or so. As expected, 20 minutes or thereabouts after the sun had disappeared the horizon exuded an orange glow where the sky meets the mountains, and the almost static bank of cloud turned a deep candyfloss pink.
And then it all began to fade again as the twilight set in. Gone forever, never to be replicated but immortalised in this one shot.