Dog Whelk
A Dog Whelk perches on a barnacle-encrusted rock, waiting for the moon to pull the sea back over it like a foamy …
A Dog Whelk perches on a barnacle-encrusted rock, waiting for the moon to pull the sea back over it like a foamy …
The kitchen garden at Noltland is green and fertile as dawn breaks over the ruin.
A character face, I’d say, rather than a beautiful or handsome one.
A landscape full of beautiful inquisitive cattle. Wandering along the beach at Aikerness.
Krummi the Icelandic wonder-pony searches out another Polo mint.
The Lochs at Aikerness are empty, dry and dusty. There has been no proper rain for weeks.
At this time of the year the ripening cereal crops take on the colour of the sun on a seemingly endless summer …
Today the jellyfish came; hundreds were washed up on Westray’s beaches. Mostly they were clear with pale pink and lilac frills, a handful were deep inky purple. Their alien life forms litter the shore.
Noup Head Lighthouse stands magnificent and alone on the cliffs; a brilliant shining warning of the skerries below.
Noup Head, the RSPB reserve, is seabird city. Here is a Fulmar, crouching ungainly on the cliffs, waiting to wheel into the air.
A long walk along the cliffs to Noup Head. Giant mushroom fairy rings lie like targets on the fertile hillsides.
I’m up before dawn to scramble along the rocky coast to see a miniature rock stack.