A winter sunset during the darkest time of the year is a tough act to follow. As the cold seeps in, the sky sees fit to give its fieriest display. It almost beats a sun-kissed tropical sundown.
This is taken from the balcony of our west London loft space, silhouetting the large, graceful tree and its neighbour which has been savagely pollarded. A plane crosses the flight path too. The third image is a response to the intense colours of this sight. They have been gently lifted out to give a subtle, muted view of one of nature’s greatest shows.
Epping Forest is an ancient swathe of woodland just beyond the eastern edge of London, in Essex. It’s accessible by Tube train, but is a haven which seems like a world away from the city.
On a chilly December day, there were just a few hardly dog walkers on the leaf-strewn paths, which reach deep into the tree cover. I passed by water and found pockets ruled by frost, while the sun caught every surface. A beautiful, absorbing – if chilly – walk with my camera.
The first truly bitingly cold morning of the winter. Our loft space has already been deluged by rain, but this time the frost clung onto the slanting roof windows, fighting against brilliant sunshine. The macro lens came into its own, catching the natural wonder and abstract glory of the invading iciness.
The Japanese word bokeh is defined as “the visual quality of the out-of-focus areas of a photographic image, especially as rendered by a particular lens”.
It truly comes to life when you play with light. The December nights in London start early and last a long time. In the urban area of Shepherds Bush, the darkness is punctuated by streams of traffic, street lights – and twinkling Christmas decorations.
I prowled the streets with my macro lens, fooled into focusing on nearby surfaces to attain abstraction and capture a stream of bokeh on a winter’s evening.