Mid-afternoon on a cold November day I got out of my car in the low light of winter.  I put my photography gear on my back, and walked away from the car in the complete stillness of this cold Highland season.  I had duffled up warm and I was glad I had, as the ice on the small dirt track was a sure sign that it was going to get cold as what was the last light of day faded.  I slipped and regained my balance a number of times as I walked, fog breathed, to the edge of Loch a Bhraoin. 

I arrived at dusk as the last sun of the day painted her rays onto the side of the distant mountains.  Complete silence surrounded me other than the deep and eerie cracking coming from the ice that was fringing the loch.  I stood for a moment in awe.  My breath taken by the rugged beauty of this place. 

I’ve always loved the way that the heather gradients into the hillside in a Scottish winter providing a soft play between the warm colours of autumn and the harsh cold white of the snow.  In this light the otherwise harsh white of the snow covered hills somehow blended so seamlessly into the sky that this icy wonderland somehow felt welcoming.  I had to resist the urge to just stand and absorb the scenery as I knew very well how Scottish beauty can turn to tragedy if not respected.

I unpacked my camera, loaded the 6x17 film, set up the shot, spot metered the exposure (compensating for the white of the snow), calculated the exposure time and aperture, set the camera lens and pressed the button on the end of the cable.  Zzzzzzz click sounded the mechanism in the lens and the shot was exposed.  Two more shots were taken on that roll of film, one over exposing, one under exposing and one at the correct exposure again….just to be sure.

I removed the film, placed it back in the bag and taped around it to show it was exposed and stood up.  20 minutes had passed and the light was now starting to fade.  I’d made it just in time.

I spent a few more moments just absorbing the vista before picking up my gear, taking a deep, fulfilled breath and walking back up the little track to the car.  The light fell away within minutes and soon I was walking in darkness.  I’d forgotten my torch (rookie error), but could see enough to walk the fourty-five minute ramble back to the car.  I could see my breath in front of me, hear my lungs wheezing slightly as the cold air hit them.  Otherwise, all I could hear was the crunch crunch of my walking boots on the ice.

As I reached the car I turned back to see where I had come from and could see nothing of the loch.  I looked up at the clear night sky though and was treated to one last moment for the day.  A canopy of magnificent stars was covering the sky now. 

One last breath of cold air made me shiver.  It was time to go home now, but it had been an experience that will stay with me forever.

11.5x4.7 inch original watercolour painting. Unframed.