Nestled amidst the grandeur of nature, I began my hike from the serene CastleRigg Hall campsite, the anticipation in the air as thick as morning dew. I had my trusty point-and-shoot Contax TVS camera, loaded with a roll of FP4, snugly wrapped around my wrist. The excitement was palpable, for I was about to trek the picturesque Walla Crag trail leading up to Bleaberry Fell.
The ascent started easy. The melodic chirping of birds and the rustle of leaves underfoot set the tone for what seemed like a promising day. Each section of the journey was a spectacle. The landscape was an ode to nature's charm: an ethereal fusion of lights and shadows, with a backdrop of mesmerising heather. I remember thinking how the vibrant purple hue would look majestic in colour, but even in black and white, the mood was surreal. It was as if nature whispered, urging me to capture its very soul.
However, no hike is complete without its set of challenges. The final ascent to the summit of Bleaberry Fell was nothing short of an epic adventure. I was greeted by uninvited guests: swarms of pesky flies that seemed to emerge out of nowhere, all around me. For a fleeting moment, I considered retreating. But the allure of the summit, and perhaps a dash of stubbornness, propelled me forward. I'm glad it did.
Upon reaching the peak, the gusty wind was a force to be reckoned with. It not only sang tales of the impending storm but also dramatically swayed the heather, creating a dance of shadows on the ground. The vista from the top was worth every single step, every swat at a fly, and every shutter click. The looming storm clouds on the horizon foretold of the torrential rain that would engulf the region for the next two days. But in that moment, standing atop Bleaberry Fell, it was all about embracing the now.
It was on my descent, the end of the trek looming near as I made my way back to my campervan, that I chanced upon the moment. The photograph that would become my favourite wasn't adorned with the earlier seen heather but rather captured a different scene all together.
With the campsite minutes away, I chanced upon a scene that was, simply put, magical. A herd of sheep, seemingly unperturbed by the impending storm, were gathered around the gate at the foot of the trailhead to Walla Crag. The foreground was a juxtaposition of nature and man-made beauty: the worn pathway I was on, flanked by long tufts of grass and stone walls, leading my eyes and lens to the awaiting sheep.
Lifting my gaze, the town of Keswick nestled in the top left, with the shimmering Bassenthwaite Lake stretching beyond it. Dominating the view, in the top middle and right of the scene, stood the majestic Skiddaw. The mountain, renowned for its beauty, was about to be enshrouded by ominous clouds rolling in from the right. The juxtaposition was breathtaking – a serene town, a tranquil lake, a looming mountain, and an impending storm, all overseen by a seemingly indifferent herd of sheep.
It's these unexpected moments, where nature arranges itself into a perfect frame, that make hikes like these unforgettable. I captured this scene, knowing it would be a standout on the roll.
The challenges of the journey, like the relentless swarm of flies during my ascent and the powerful gusts of wind at Bleaberry Fell's peak, only heightened the appreciation for such serene moments.
Upon developing the film in 510 Pyro and beholding the darkroom print of this scene, it was clear: that unexpected moment, with the sheep, the town, the lake, and the mountain, encapsulated the spirit of the day. An unscripted, raw, beautiful dance of nature, awaiting discovery by those willing to seek it.
Sometimes, life's beauty isn't just in vibrant colours but also in the myriad shades of grey.