Mist Opportunity

On the evening of Saturday 3rd October 2026 I was checking the weather forecast in anticipation of where to go and what to shoot. The morning was quite the success on the South Downs for low lying mist.

Much to my excitement the forecast predicted extremely likely for mist also on the Sunday morning.

It was on! but where to go?, where looks good in the mist?, woodland in the thick of it?, up high above it looking down at a subject? One place I had always admired from seeing other photos was Corfe Castle in Dorset, appearing as an island amongst a sea of silky white mist.

Those conditions were surely a very rare occurrence. Do I risk a three hundred mile round trip, a total of six hours driving just to be disheartened that Corfe Castle is actually firmly and visibly secured to the ground with no mist in sight. That’s a huge risk of time money and effort.

Well there lay the dilemma, if I didn’t go I’ll have a nice sunday lay in, but later that day I would undoubtedly see the most amazing pictures taken by other photographers who did brave the risk.

8pm, Saturday night, the hell with it, what do I have to lose? A night of sleep, a great experience, even bagging some amazing images of a beautiful place I have only seen in the stark light of day many years ago surrounded by hoards of tourists, me being one of them.

Right! time to overthink the endeavour. What time do I leave? What do I bring? Will there be ample parking? what if I arrive there and it’s completely engulfed by too thick mist and I can’t see a castle. Surely I am not to be the only photographer who is thinking of same venture?, will it be overrun by others taking the same shot? All valid questions every landscape photographer endures.

All these questions are built upon anxiety and FOMO, and are usually the ones which put me off, stop me from going and continuously hitting the snooze button.

Pushing through these anxieties, doubts and negativity I pack the car, making absolutely sure I have everything I could possibly need for the grand adventure ahead of me (that’s how it appears in my head anyway), I began my journey just before midnight. Feeling like Bilbo Baggins setting out on a grand adventure.

All adventures no matter the scale start with a thought, a wish or even a doubt.

Having stepped out of the door and pushing all doubts aside, I arrive into Dorset in the very early hours of Sunday morning and bagged a prime parking spot just at the foot of West Hill, was there a hill? I certainly can’t see it, but it is there and I need to ascend it in the dark with heavy bag, slick underfoot and shrouded by thick mist, anxious that I will not emerge out of the mist by the time I reach the top, also hoping my breath regains a normal pattern from the unexpected steepness of the short but brutal ascent.

West Hill, apparently overlooking Corfe Castle, I see a faint glow where the Castle should be, damn! the mist is too thick and it is completely covering the castle, just as I feared.

As soon as that thought entered my mind, as if prompted by my frustration the faint glow where the lights of the castle where feebly attempting to penetrate the thick mist grew stronger, shapes began to emerge of the two towers, crumbled ramparts, steep steps which at a more sociable hour carry tourists up and back. There is it! even better, they have lights, big bright lights, uplighting the historic structure with such drama as is seen in movies. This might not be a wasted journey after all.

Choosing my spot on the hill rather clumsily having not been here before and navigating around in the dark shrouded by mist, I began setting up my camera, with rushed excitement worried that if I take too long the conditions will change for the worst. Who am I kidding, I have way over compensated, it’s only 4am, sunrise isn’t until 7. Endurance is certainly going to have to play a large part in this, and justification of my long journey here at the most unsociable hours.

I have a long night or rather morning ahead, the castle and its theatre lights still teasing me as mist rolls in, around and away, with this atmosphere I half expected a dragon to swoop in and land on the towers. No such luck.

Given the darkness, my only concern now was to get to know what I am working with, what I can capture amongst all this drama and darkness. Exposure is going to be a nightmare, those lights against the dark were at opposite ends of the range of light.

Exposure bracketing was the only option, expose firstly for the atmosphere and the swirling mist, the beams of light cast from the lights like a bat signal the details of the castle all but gone to clipping the whites, then drop exposure and ISO gradually bringing the source of the lights into a more reasonable and less nuclear exposure, like my timing, over compensate, capture all possibilities of exposure, as this is going to be a tough exposure composite when I arrive home.

For the next two hours I repeate this process, trying different angles, zooming in, being at the mercy of what ever the mist wants to do. A faint glow intensifies on the horizon over the opposite East hill, day is coming. Ambient light begins its contribution to my exposures, same process as before as those lights of the castle are still singing the loudest even with dawn now upon us.

Dawn, I can now see my immediate surroundings, should I move, maybe try a different elevation and secure my spot more firmly before others arrive?

I did move, just ten meters or so, to the other side of the fence I was previously behind, it felt more comfortable here, especially with the imminent arrival of fellow photographers who surely know the optimum spots better than I.

The scene before me is starting to look very different to those hours before, good different, less creepy and more conventional to my expectations perhaps.

The scene before me now putting on a more classic show, the mist thicker to become a sea of mist where ever you look, the castle emerging out of it just as I had hoped, time though was not my friend, the sky to the east getting brighter by the minute, competing against the castles spotlights, they are now no longer singing the loudest. The hill now full of photographers perhaps about thirty also eager to bag a shot and also to witness this amazing scene unfold.

The sea of mist is slowly rising as the sun warms the coming day, the castle is slowly being engulfed by the rising tide of mist. I am thankful for the overcompensation of my early arrival now, minutes after the sun appears over East Hill, the castle has all but disappeared, only the two tall towers fighting the last fight appearing like ancient monoliths to the once visible castle.

Finally the mist has risen to completely obscure everything but the distant horizon and the top of East Hill.

My time here is complete, I am happy, full of excitement and impatience to see my images, the walk (or perhaps shuffle is a more accurate term) down the hill steep, slippery and treacherous underfoot.

The tiresome drive home as straight forward and non eventful as you’d expect for a Sunday morning.

Arriving home by late morning on a now sunny and mist free day, reflecting on my adventure I can happily say I have no regrets and with lots of images I am proud of, some unique, some classic (dare I say cliché).

The take away from this venture is ‘you gotta be in it to win it’, I went a lot on faith in both the weather forecast, my judgement though that wavered at the start but ultimately fighting through my anxieties, and I guess this all boils down to perseverance and tenacity.

It really was a mist opportunity and not a missed opportunity.

A Night To Remember

Friday 18:30 10th May 2024, I had just finished work and began doom scrolling my socials as one does while getting cozy for a night of relaxed playstation after a long working week.

The app on my phone which gives Aurora alerts was pinging as a red alert. Being in the south east of England I had seen this many times before and simply took it as the usual ’too far south to see anything’. However…

… Doom scrolling insta stories and Facebook had many posts exhibiting anticipation and excitement about the impending conditions. This felt different as they were from people around my area, not just further north. I started to listen, and in turn have an internal battle of should I or shouldn’t I.

I sould!! Hell, I would regret it big time if things did kick off. Playstation will have to wait.

I packed my camera bag and decided to head to somewhere high, assuming that would be best, I know of two possibles in my area, Ditching Beacon with its Dew Pond, or Firle Beacon with a lone tree I have been waiting to photograph for some time. The latter felt more appealing as the Dew Pond at Ditching is bit of a walk from the car park.

Fast forward to just before sunset on the hillside of Firle Beacon I proceeded to set up a composition in the failing light, and waited while taking some test shots and progressively testing the lightpainting on the tree as the evenings light gave in to dark.

At around 10:00, I was in the dark of night, and waited with baited breath at what I was expecting to see, at first not much, then a green tinge on the horizon began convincing me that something is happening. or was that just my white balance being off and light pollution from some distant town making it appear green. NO that was GREEN. I began frantically shooting, light painting the tree with an LED light and a torch to create some foreground interest other than a silhouette of a tree.

Then after exhausting this one composition, I began looking for another and also readjusting for what I now perceived where the Aurora was forming. At about 11pm, thing went from great to unbelievable in a very short space of time. Greens, purples red and pinks danced all around me, with such intensity I never thought possible this far south. I bagged many compositions running around, readjusting and lightpainting, phoning my wife to say GET OUTSIDE AND LOOK!

Finally, I thought amongst the chaos I simply also had to savour this rare moment, turn the camera off, lay down on the grass and just look up. OK I didn’t actually turn my camera off, I ran a Timelapse which sadly didn’t amount to anything. But for the next 10 minutes I did nothing but savour the experience as colours danced above me.

By about 11:45pm the Aurora had fizzled out and gave way to just a dark sky with a little wash of pink. I was done. Excitement, adrenaline, naivety I don’t know, I packed up, and drove home excited to process my images. I should have gone back out, or stayed out till the other side of night, where as I understand it things picked up and gave us another equally impressive display.

Though I am thoroughly grateful I got what I got.

Maybe some other time there will be another display as good as this, but one thing for sure is that I am glad I made the decision on this location, as I was the only one there, and as I heard afterwards, the other possible locations carpark was full and there were loads of people at the dew pond. Which I imagine was a great experience and a great sense of community, but I am glad I got to experience this amazing occurrence with just myself and the Aurora.

The following night, chatter on the Internet suggested it’s going off again!

Bodiam Castle this time (why didn’t I think of that the previous night I do not know). Leaving in very good time to secure a parking spot.

I setup before dark, then people began arriving, lots of people. I reckon there were about 20 plus other photographers there with the same motive and same intel. We chatted and shared experiences about the previous nights activity and awkwardly consoled those who slept through it.

Sadly by about 11pm, it was obvious nothing was going to happen, so people began to depart. Disappointing, but a thoroughly good night regardless, with a great atmosphere and camaraderie with like minded people.

You can’t win them all, but you can have fun trying.

Curiouser and curiouser…

I don’t know about anyone else, but when I see an image which inspires and moves me, I want to know more about it. How it was taken, any story behind it, the set up of equipment, or even the challenges of capturing the image.

This section is dedicated to just that, a look behind the curtain.