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I recently went to Sevenoaks Nature Reserve on an exploratory trip with my 2 year old. Miraculously I actually managed to get some nice shots, as my attention was drawn from following his ever-running footsteps, to some of the striking aesthetics born of the natural oasis I was travelling through.

Being November, the three elements which were on my side with regards to getting some great images were colour, light and texture. Sounds obvious, but winter in Kent produces remarkable conditions in which to appreciate the beauty of the situation around us.

The colour of the leaves as the season takes hold is of course a wonderful sight. Living in Kent, the Garden of England as they say, I see this every year and have done for 33 years. It never gets dull. It’s never assumed. It is always, without fail, an open-mouthed moment of delicious shock, at how a tree so recently full and green, can so quickly become a riot of flame and opulence.

Winter light is by far my favourite of all the seasons. Low and hazy, it casts a glow over the scene. In contrast to summer shadows, which are often crisp and glaring, winter shadows are long and inventive; invoking a new aspect of reflection upon their subject.

And of course, texture. Mud. Water. Wet. Crisp. Crunch. Slop. Slide. Squelch. Burn. Bite. Smooth. Wash. Mix. The tangibility of this seasonal effect is almost as extreme as it’s tonal effect. Every aspect evokes a dramatic physical reaction. The modern instinct tells you to avoid the slop, the squelch, the burn. But once engaged, the elements draw you in deeply, in a way saccharine summer cannot.

Rarely is such a thing more beautifully satisfying than a winter walk in the Kent country.

SHOWING NOW and for sale as part of a Dartford Arts Network exhibition at the Mick Jagger Centre in Dartford until 4th January

Images taken on a Nikon D5100 with 50mm lens

A4 (4)

Golden

A4 (2)

Collision

A4 (3)

Nature’s Sculpture

A4 (1)

Reflection

Reflection

Suburban Forest

The British obsession with snow is wearyingly amusing. Each time the same frenzied anticipation, the countdown. Boots patiently waiting, scarves and gloves at the ready. Up until that morning when you awake to find a starker, cleaner light falling though your window and before even emerging from the warm duvet, you just know it’s happened. The sound of cars less frequent; those that you do hear sounding vaguely slushy as they pass by slower than usual.

A snow day in Britain is a great day. It creates the same sense of togetherness and shared excitement as a festival or even Christmas. Unlike the stomach-turning coalition claim, we genuinely are all in it together. Apart from the people that have to work, that is. Only once in 5 years of working in North London and commuting from Kent, have I been totally unable to get into work due to the snow. That glorious day when London did a 28 Days Later and almost stopped to draw breath for once exquisite moment. No such luck this year. Although the snow is beautiful when you can play in it and stare at it from the toasty other side of a double-glazed window, it becomes somewhat of a nuisance when having to trek through it on a pitch-black 6.30am morning en route to the train station.

Thankfully, this day was not one of those days. Having time to explore and enjoy the beauty of the falling snow I took these shots. Living in generally a very grey country certainly makes everything look ultra beautiful when blanketed in piercing white.

By Any Other Name

The Perfect Hue

Science Non-Fiction

Mr Messy – The Scream

Antlers

Hat & Scarf Set

Disguise

Portal

Brown & White