Cold, blue light and confined to the car for an hour until the heavy squall passed on it’s turbulent way northwestwards, I sat watching spindrift being torn from the wave crests on Inch Beach. As with most landscape photographers I’ve developed an irrepressible optimism about weather and light, for no matter how hopeless the situation seems right now it will improve! I always hold a hunch that after a full day of flat light, rain and gales, the evening will bring something worthwhile and this evening on the Dingle Peninsula was one of those when irrepressible optimism was a definite asset. The long sweep of Inch was obscured by torrential rain for a while, as it passed, the heavy cloud began to show signs of fracture. Our maritime weather does like to tease us landscapists, it invariably rewards us with the light and hues that are the root of our irrepressible optimism.
The more I use the D810 during the blue hours, the more astonished I become over it’s ability to record clean images that are similar in hue and tone to Velvia 50. Now that’s quite a statement, especially by me, less than a couple of years ago I would not have said it but the D810 is unlike any of my other Nikons. It is being used almost as much as my Hasselblad and Cambo and as write this it occurs to me that those three cameras seem to have evolved into my favourite landscape photography outfit to date. Not that I planned this way, it just seemed to happen and the realisation that it is a good combination for my needs seems to bear out the unplanned nature of my journey.
I’m also optimistic that even this level of technological capability will also improve later!
Inch Beach, Dingle Peninsula.
Nikon D810, 28mm f1.8G, Lee .6 hard nd graduate.