Why I Don’t Do Sunrises

I should add to this title the words “anymore” because there was a time. It’s not that I cannot get up early enough, though I don’t mind a lie-in. But it’s a particular experience I had some years ago. I always accepted that there was no guarantee that a sunrise would be worthy of photography and at that time I had quite often got up on successive mornings at some unreasonable hour and been disappointed, time and time again. But there was a straw that broke the camel’s back and it went like this.

We had been staying near to Priddy for the folk festival in July and after it finished, stayed on a while to explore the area. While out walking in the Mendips I found an overlook above the Vale of Glastonbury that I thought would make a great spot for a dawn panorama – the sun rising behind the Tor. A check on Ephemeris confirmed the geometry of the situation and I had it all planned out for the next day – where to park and how to get to the place to put the tripod in the dark ready for dawn. It would be an early start!

The next morning, I set out at about 4:15 from where we were staying, a ten minute drive to the car park, navigated my way across the various sheep fields, styles and paths to my chosen spot and set up shop. There was a lovely blue tint to the sky and mist in the valley below. It looked very promising, I thought. I fired off a few shots for something to do and waited. Before long the mist started to roll up the hill-side and before I knew it I was fogged in; couldn’t see anything. And there I waited hoping for it to blow away; which it didn’t.

By 6:30 I knew it was all over – well past sunrise and still only fog. I decided to go home, packed everything up and headed over to the adjacent style that I had crossed on the way in. On the other side I was presented with three paths heading off into the fog in three different directions. I had no idea which one I had arrived along – none whatsoever. I couldn’t see all the way across the field to any landmark that I recognised from the walk in. I was effectively stranded there, in the cold and damp.

It was another hour before the fog lifted sufficiently for me to see my way across the first field to a landmark that I recognised. By the time I arrived at the car, slightly higher than my overlook, there was a clear blue sky and it was pleasantly warm. When I got back, my wife said “you must have got some lovely pictures – the weather has been perfect”. Only a full English breakfast would restore my equilibrium! That was the last time.

Just to prove I can do it, here is one I prepared earlier – Val D’Orcia, Tuscany.