After a tumultuous week I felt I needed some sanctuary. Jersey in winter can be bleak and, in the remoter areas, void of people. It is to these remoter areas that I go to looking for space and time. Although the temperatures recently have been quite harsh and biting there was no frost this morning. The rain was not far away though and as I write this I can see the rain through the window of my studio and hear it drumming on the roof.
On these occasions I find myself looking for compositions of an intimate landscape. The world is full of beautiful grand vistas and iconic landmarks but they no longer seem to hold much of an attraction for me. I am more interested in the small details and so it was this morning. I was on familiar ground of course but after taking the obvious photograph I wanted to find something less obvious. And so I found myself climbing over rocks still wet from the retreating sea, desperately trying to keep my balance on their smooth, seaweed covered faces.
Although there is a definite sense of isolation in such a place there is also an intense peace. I find that these experiences are almost spiritual in their essence. I often imagine that I am completely alone - the only person left on a distant and cold planet that is slowly spinning into its death throes. This sounds quite maudlin but I find it so beautiful.
I have written about and contemplated the beauty of the sea many times. I understand completely those who are drawn to a lifetime on the ocean. Typically, winter seas are full of energy and that produces drama and tension. This morning's water was calm as it retreated gradually down the beach and away from me. There was an occasional rogue wave that caught my attention. Despite that it was very peaceful, the perfect antidote to a stressful week.
Sometimes it is a combination of visual and aural experiences that lead me to a particular place. With the tones of Ólafur Arnalds in my ears I composed my photograph with a single sentry rock just off centre. The distant headland gave me a sense of scale and distance and the immediate foreground rocks provided a neat passageway for the sea to ebb and flow, drawing my eye through the scene. I had already contemplated a square crop for the final image (of course). I only then had to let light and nature work their collective magic.
I hope you enjoy the photograph.
Best wishes - Darren
