13/08/2018
It was a dark cold night in August and the clocks were striking nineteen.
I sat in the front seat of my car for a while, cradling a cup of tea in both hands, holding on to its warmth, devising a plan. There's so much to photograph here! I was staring out to the sea, across the bay towards the lighthouse perched at the top of the reef. It was glowing with a different colour every few seconds, from red to blue to green, then back to plain white. The lights would gently seep into the water to be seized by the surf, violently stirred and washed up ashore in a stunning blend of reflections on the wet sand I was now standing on.
Camera - check, tripod - check. I'm ready, I thought, while clumsily playing with camera settings, wrapped in umpteen layers of mismatched clothing in red, blue, purple...I am the lighthouse! For a second I felt like I was 7 years old, back in Poland, about to go sledging in the park, wearing so many layers I could barely bend my arms. It gets so cold back home! The memory made me chuckle quietly, as I counted up to 20, before releasing the shutter to see this.
