There's something about photographing evening skies that never fails to raise my spirits. Tonight, driving home into the western sunset, I had to stop to capture the ever changing canvas, so many times along the way. As the sun dropped towards the horizon the colours . . .
This crop's life in the field, glowing in the evening sun. In the cycle of farming, beginning anew, harvesting seeds, some endings are also beginnings. . . .
It's the witching hour, the gloaming. Patterns and shadows play across an amber horizon and as usual I am drawn towards the . . .