I used to drop Holly at school and if it was looking good on the way back I’d swing the truck down to the canal basin, park up and run for the beach to catch the sun rising.
It’s a perfect spot in winter, the river flows from the very point the sun comes over the horizon this time of year and on the good days it can be spectacular standing watching it happen.
But things happen, bad and not so bad, and our morning routine changed away from me getting these chances as often, someone in the village even said to me “You used to take such lovely pictures down there…”
…used to…
Well maybe I should try harder. I was already packed for the hills and up early, there was pink in the sky and mist was creeping up the river, a we detour would be just fine before I headed north.
I was soon on the frosted rocks littering the sand as the river slowly curled around them as the tide oozed higher up the beach. It was bitterly cold and was never so glad to be rotating insulated jackets for TGO as I was standing around in sub zero temperatures for an hour taking these photies. I think we have a best in test here.
It was dark under the fog, but it was a colourful dark. The sun was dyeing the mist while it was still over the horizon. The moon had been a crescent of bright silver an hour before and the sun now echoed its pal a little, appearing as a red crescent somewhere past Clydebank to the east.
I watched it climb up quickly and grow to an orange disk trying and failing to reach me through the murk. Beautiful.
I snapped away with my now vintage LX5 and there was a joy to doing that, like I used to yes, but it’s new too. Every sun rise is fresh start after all.
I didn’t stray too far, I liked the view, I like the light and I liked the sounds. Ducks quacked quietly as the scooted around making ripples for the sun to reflect on, a cormorant dived and the crows pecked as the gulls swooped above.
Only I was watching the sun, odd man out again.
At times the mist cleared, then in billowed and blocked the light, above me was blue and then it was gone, behind me just grey as if the coloured light stopped at me.
The sun rose through the bridge, I caught it passing the giant electricity pylons that link the opposite banks of the Clyde too, then it was climbing into the sky where within an hour it was captured by a blanket of high thin cloud.
I walked home happy, just wanting a cuppa. I was warm except my hands, not the gloves fault, I kept taking the right one off the fiddle with the camera and phone.
After that it didn’t really go to plan, the highlights being hammering off a jammed brake in a layby in the van, an emergency callout when I had a rucksack not a tool bag and completely failing to meet the very dear man (and his misses) who started this place for me before they fly away again.
Karma biting me on the arse because I took an hour out this morning ? We’ll see, universe you’ve pissed me off now, just you wait.
