You should go to Skye. As soon as you can. Stay in a cabin. Hike the hills. Swim in the sea. Wrap yourself in a wool blanket and drink whiskey by the fire as a cold rain provides steady percussion on the tin roof. Revel in the natural beauty that surrounds you.
Dover, United Kingdom
I didn’t even realize Dover had a castle. I was only heading there for the cliffs. Imagine my surprise when I rounded a turn into the town and glanced up to see a castle atop the next rise. Since my exploring policy mandates stopping for tall and/or shiny objects, I obviously needed to find a good vantage point for pictures of the castle. As it turns out, you can turn around and see it from the cliffs themselves.
There are several paths from the upper parking area along the White Cliffs of Dover. It seems I picked the skinniest of them all. With a sheer drop a few inches to my right and a steep cliff on my left, I made my way along the path to an outcropping in the failing light. The view was breath taking, so I snapped a few pictures and took in the view before making my way down to a flatter, more stable, area to set up the tripod I actually remembered to bring along on this trip.
On the way back I picked a different path that was much more inviting and provided a little more forgiveness for missteps. Because by the time I was hiking back it was dark. And because this time I forgot my flashlight.
Oh and there were donkeys. Silent, assassin donkeys that you don’t notice in the dark until an inadvertent sideways glace finds a donkey face two feet away from your own.
Stonehenge, United Kingdom
When I was a kid, I wrote several reports on Stonehenge. I read books and theories, I drew my own diagrams of the sarsen stones and the post holes and the causeways. I finally got a chance to see them in person for the first time on a beautiful March evening with clear skies and a gorgeous sunset.
The monument is closed due to Covid restrictions, but going outdoors for exercise is allowed in England and there happens to be a nice public path that leads through the surrounding fields and straight to the monument. Just head towards the end of Fargo Rd, hop out, and start walking. Or you can walk from the nearby Woodhenge.
Shoutout to the nice English gentleman and fellow photographer who’s name escapes me that had lived four miles away for fifty-plus years. He regaled me with all kinds of stories about the site and its history as we sat around snapping pictures through the setting sun. Minus the two round-the-clock security guards, there were perhaps six other people out in the field enjoying the beautiful sunset. I was absolutely in luck.
Of course I forgot my tripod. Whoops. So these night images are brought to you by the not-nearly-as-great-as-a-full-frame-mirrorless-camera-on-a-tripod-Galaxy-S20. By the end it was also -4 degrees and my fingers were becoming useless. So with a few parting shots, I walked back in darkness on a moonless night, surrounded by stars. Only stepped in sheepshit once, but promptly stepped straight into a puddle a few paces later. Life is about balance.
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