Palombella Hart Photography

Palombella Hart Photography Landscape photographer based in North Wales, UK. Specialising in evocative nature imagery that tells stories of place, memory, and connection.

Mark Palombella Hart has many years of experience in capturing the beauty of nature, Mark's photography is a true reflection of his intimate connection with the world around him. His work tells stories that emanate from the emotions and experiences evoked by the natural world. When Mark is not out and about photographing the wonderful landscapes of North Wales he is usually researching Genetic Gen

ealogy and family history as well as looking after the animals on his smallholding in the Welsh hills, Conwy.

"...The blizzard came with teeth of ice,A howling wrath, not once but thrice.It lashed the Ash with ghostly might,Each g...
08/09/2026

"...The blizzard came with teeth of ice,
A howling wrath, not once but thrice.
It lashed the Ash with ghostly might,
Each gust a blade, each flake a fight.

Yet rooted deep in ancient grace,
The giant held its solemn place.
Its bark was worn, its crown was bare,
But still it breathed the frozen air..."

If you are interested in seeing more of my work and purchasing prints, please visit my website: www.palombellahart.com
Or my Etsy Shop: https://www.etsy.com/uk/shop/PalombellaHart


The mist moved like memory, the light like breath— each moment a fleeting composition of autumn’s hush. Petrichor rose f...
07/09/2026

The mist moved like memory, the light like breath—
each moment a fleeting composition of autumn’s hush.
Petrichor rose from the forest floor, rich with rain and reverence.

If you are interested in seeing more of my work and purchasing prints, please visit my website: www.palombellahart.com
Or my Etsy Shop: https://www.etsy.com/uk/shop/PalombellaHart

"...The shifting mist, the softened light— a morning born of hush and delight. Each breath of breeze, a painter’s hand, ...
04/09/2026

"...The shifting mist, the softened light—
a morning born of hush and delight.
Each breath of breeze, a painter’s hand,
composing scenes the soul could stand..."

If you are interested in seeing more of my work and purchasing prints, then please visit my website: www.palombellahart.com
Or my Etsy Shop: https://www.etsy.com/uk/shop/PalombellaHart

When dawn arrives,The woodland stirs from ancient sleep.Beneath the bows of a mighty oak,Soft winds whisper forgotten th...
02/09/2026

When dawn arrives,
The woodland stirs from ancient sleep.
Beneath the bows of a mighty oak,
Soft winds whisper forgotten things.

The stone walls wear the weight of years,
Lichen-cloaked, with rain-worn tears.
Once hands that built with sturdy grace,
Now ghosts remain to trace their place.

Here, time drapes thick as moss on stone,
And whispers weave where wild things roam.
The mountain hums, the roots still grow,
Yet echoes linger—soft and slow.

If you are interested in seeing more of my work and purchasing prints, then please visit my website: www.palombellahart.com
Or my Etsy Shop: https://www.etsy.com/uk/shop/PalombellaHart

I’m hoping autumn comes early this year — I’m ready for the shift in light and colour. This scene is from last autumn, d...
31/08/2026

I’m hoping autumn comes early this year — I’m ready for the shift in light and colour. This scene is from last autumn, deep inside a vast oak woodland in Mid Wales. I’m already imagining how it will look when the first golds and russets return.

If you are interested in seeing more of my work and purchasing prints, please visit my website: www.palombellahart.com
Or my Etsy Shop: https://palombellahart.etsy.com

"...I glimpsed the tree-spirits, fleeting and fey, but never long enough to learn their way.Their hands shaped dreams in...
30/08/2026

"...I glimpsed the tree-spirits, fleeting and fey, but never long enough to learn their way.

Their hands shaped dreams in the folds of bark, carving light into hollows where all things start.
They wove from mist the feathers of time, spun moss into verses, root-bound rhyme.

I felt them breathe through trembling ferns, a touch like memory—soft as it burns. Above, the canopy murmured low, old songs in a tongue only ancients know..."

If you are interested in seeing more of my work and purchasing prints, then please visit my website: www.palombellahart.com
Or my Etsy Shop: https://www.etsy.com/uk/shop/PalombellaHart

It was a wet, misty sunrise — just how I like it. I followed the hidden paths I’ve learned from many visits, climbing st...
28/08/2026

It was a wet, misty sunrise — just how I like it. I followed the hidden paths I’ve learned from many visits, climbing steadily toward the light. The higher I went, the denser the mist became and the quieter the forest grew. The tumbling streams faded behind me, until at the summit there was nothing but a deep, deafening silence.

Mist drifted through the trees, enriching textures and deepening colours, offering compositions everywhere I looked.

It was a good morning for woodland photography. I left tired and hungry, but happy knowing I had a few keepers for my efforts.

If you are interested in seeing more of my work and purchasing prints, then please visit my website: www.palombellahart.com
Or my Etsy Shop: https://www.etsy.com/uk/shop/PalombellaHart

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