The One Across the Border - a photo on Flickriver

            High noon at the Point of Ayr.  It was the only stop on our tour where previous knowledge would give us a head start.  Four years earlier, a brief and wintry visit to North Wales had ended with a last minute addition to the itinerary at Talacre Lighthouse, and it had been a big hit with all three of us.  So familiar yet so refreshingly new for us coastal dwellers from the far south west of these islands.  There’s something about a lighthouse on a beach and the possibilities that can bring.  Now, with our Wirral base no more than an hour’s drive away - even with the new twenty mile per hour speed limits in urban areas - it would have been remiss of us not to make a return to the lighthouse at the edge of the dunes.  Yesterday’s diabolical weather had eased, although the mercury was still only just about nudging double figures on this late May morning as we headed across the Dee and into the Principality.  It was our only outing across the border, and one we’d very much looked forward to with the prospect of renewing our acquaintanceship with the lighthouse lying in wait.  

The forecast suggested we might be lucky after yesterday’s tough assignment on Crosby Beach.  The weather had been so bad in the evening that we’d given up on the sunset plans for Perch Rock entirely and settled into our rented accommodation with a European football final and beer as the outside world howled and whistled and threw itself at the windows and the roof above us.  But now, as with renewed enthusiasm we made our way towards Prestatyn and the coast while the winds continued to chase themselves urgently across the land, it seemed that the rains might break for just long enough to allow us some unhindered progress on the beach.  The tide was in our favour too.  With waves wrapping themselves around the base of the lighthouse we wouldn’t have to worry about airbrushing footprints from the world today.  Wearing stout wellies and warm waterproof layers, we could focus on the task at hand on our last full day in the field.  In a moment of pleasing bonhomie, Lee suddenly woke up and announced from the back of the car that he was buying lunch later in recognition of my marathon drive and Dave’s services to navigation.  The filet mignon and Bollinger it would be then.  With a Toblerone each for dessert - giant size.  

A couple of sections of flooded road later, we crept the last mile down a narrow lane towards the car park, where the machine relieved me of a very agreeable twenty pence for two hours - Cornwall take note!  And with just the odd spot of water dotting the windscreen, we headed out onto the dunes. A freezing blast threatened to send the calendar back from May to March, but it did seem that the Met Office’s prediction of a gap in the downpours that had dogged yesterday’s adventures might just prove to be accurate.  At least the elements were keeping what few tourists there were occupied in their chalets behind the dunes, or in the amusement arcade we’d driven past earlier after missing the turning for the car park.  Just us and a select few others were on the beach, pointing our cameras into the bristling sea air.  But the great thing about such contrary conditions is that it really doesn’t matter what time of day you’re out with the camera.  No glowing sunrises or sunsets to see here today - just grey, grey and more grey to iron out the variations in the light that each hour usually brings.

And the other thing about today was that we were at the coast.  Years of experimenting with exposure times around water in all kinds of weather have given me a pretty good idea of what I’m going to be happy with.  Keep shooting, take a few fast ones for insurance purposes, sift out the turkeys later and see what worked.  And in this wind there would be plenty of blurry duds to lose.  We only needed an hour, and by the time I strolled back to the car with nearly a hundred and thirty exposures on the card and a happy grin on my face, Dave and Lee were already waiting inside, cooing at the backs of each other’s cameras, and looking contented enough with their own efforts.  It seemed that even though conditions had been almost identical to those of our one previous visit, the return to Talacre had been successful enough.  

And now it was time for steak and Toblerones, all paid for by the sleeping occupant in the back seat of the car.  It was a fine reward for an hour at the beach.  What more could you ask for?

Taken in: UK / Wales / Llanasa / Talacre (show map)

Taken on: May 23, 2024

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Sets appears in: • Peak District and Merseyside Trip 2024 • Wales more » • North Wales • Lighthouse « less

Groups appears in: • Lighthouses of the World • lighthouses //// faros more » • Black & White Digital • Black and White Seascapes • Black and white details • Photography Week • Anyone for long exposures and night photography? • Lara's Fabulous World in Black & White (Admin Invite only) • Lighthouse - Guidance and navigation • Lighthouse And Covered Bridge « less

Camera: Canon EOS 5D Mark IV, f/13.0, 1.6 sec, 30mm, ISO 125 (more info) (hide info)

Camera:	Canon EOS 5D Mark IV
Lens:	EF24-70mm f/2.8L USM
Aperture:	f/13.0
Exposure Time:	1.6
Focal Length:	30mm
ISO:	125
Exposure Bias:	+1/3 EV
Flash:	Off, Did not fire
Exposure Program:	Aperture-priority AE
Exposure Mode:	Auto
Metering Mode:	Multi-segment
White Balance:	Auto
Color Space:	Uncalibrated
Software:	Adobe Photoshop Lightroom Classic 13.5 (Windows)
Show full info

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