perspective

It is relatively easy to take impressive photographs of landscapes which take the breath away - the monument of the Rocky mountains when the sun and the clouds are just right (see the definition of "awful"), the brilliance of white in the buildings perched high above the cobalt Mediterranean of Rhodos - just point and shoot pretty much anywhere and you're guaranteed to capture something of the grandeur. Anybody can do it, to which travel photo albums around the world can attest. Don't get me wrong, the obvious beauty captured in such photographs has merit, the pleasure of viewing no doubt having some relation to endorphins and the like.

I suppose this is the superficial nature of the iconic - pictures taken by everyone of the visually appealing. The truly brilliant photograph, however, is created by the desire to see beyond the impressive, beyond the grandeur. To distill the image down to some sort of gestalt precisely contained within the edges of the photographic frame. Like taking something apart and reassembling it to the same functionality but with half the moving parts. And this process is not as easy. I can spend hours looking at things just to get the image "just right", only to find upon later inspection that it's "just OK". Happens all the time. That's why you have to have fun in the process, and not merely from the product.

two of the many rocks on Saligo beach, Islay

the Paps of Jura from Bunnahabbhain Distillery, Islay

along the shoreline by Castlebay, Barra

still here

Understanding that I've broken one of the cardinal rules of blogging - post on a regular basis lest your audience thinks you've dropped off the face of the earth - I'm here to tell you that I am, indeed, still alive and well. My time just happens to be somewhat consumed by my job during the summer. We run a kids camp and I barely have time to get my email let alone put enough thought into blog posts in order to make them interesting and worthwhile. So let it be known that their frequency may not be to both our liking, but please don't go away!

Our summer camp is horseback riding and animal oriented, so I'll leave you with a few pix of animals. I'm always attracted to images of horses, and for some reason I tend to have a few shots of cows in my repertoire. And of course my dog.

my dog at camp, early morning

Lochmaddy, on the Scottish West Hebridean island of North Uist

a beachcowmer on Barra, another of Scotlands Western Hebrides

grazing on the Scottish island of Islay

red phonebooths

With the advent of wireless communication and ensuing prevalence of cell phones in the world, I suspect the phonebooth is on the road to oblivion. I love the image of the red phonebooth. Not only do they appeal to me visually, but they also seem to me to be heavily laden with story. History and culture nestle deep in the crackled paint of their exterior, lives lived and shared over thin copper wires. In rural Scotland one can find them on the most unlikely of street corners.

I got thinking about all this after reading a post on Armin Grewe's www.islayblog.com that indicated Google Streetview had come to the Scottish island of Islay, and that one of the views he found interesting was along the road featuring the red phonebooth near Carnduncan. I thought it would be fun to show a few of the photographs I've taken of these icons, including this one near Carnduncan...

...on Skye, near Carbost, just down the road from the Talisker distillery.

...on Barra, one of the southernmost of the Outer Hebrides of Scotland.

slightly bizarre

Barra, one of the southernmost of the Outer Hebrides of Scotland, has an unusual airport. The landing strip is the beach, so flights can only come and go at low tide. It is the only beach runway in the world which handles scheduled airline traffic. We were lucky enough to catch some spectacular light when this Twin Otter was taking off. I suspect the runway is also the only one in the world where dogs catch frizbees and people fly kites and dig for cockles between flights.