I’m battling with the weather at the moment. I love an overcast, diffused light kind of day as much as the next photographer, but honestly, trying to have a photography session on a beach in the middle of torrential downpour is not fun for anyone. Moody skies are good. Sky that you can’t see for rain is not so good.
But I won’t be beaten – in fact I’m heading back down there this weekend for a maternity session with a great couple I met today. I haven’t promised a hazy sunset (although BBC weather forecast is so far on my side), but I’ll be pulling out my best “rain rain go away” dance moves in the hope that the backdrop for their session is as perfect as the reason we’re having it there.
You see, Dad-to-be proposed on this particular beach. All sparkly ring and on-sandy-bended-knee. I told him today he earned serious brownie points for effort, but he also set the bar very high for himself. He agreed that his next wedding proposal would have to be really good. I found that funny. He got a loving thump. That session is going to be fun – can’t wait for Saturday.
Last weekend, I had a weather reversal. Leaving sad, miserable Surrey behind I went on a road trip to Norfolk and was totally undone by the lovely, but scorching sun. I’d been invited up to stay in a beautiful house on the Norfolk Broads to spend some time with Ruth, Julie and their foster children, to capture them on holiday enjoying their time by the water. I don’t do heat well, but getting to drive the boat back from the pub was a total treat. You can’t really build up enough speed on the Broads to get a good breeze going, but you do get a little Master and Commander sort of feeling. I also managed to take home a very attractive shade of pink sunburn. Result.
Laura and Ruth are sisters, so it meant that my little muse was on hand to model a cute toddler-sized life jacket for me. Before we could go anywhere though, it was important to get a morning fix of Beebies and the strangely compelling Mr Tumble. I tell you, kids find this man hypnotic. I’m not so sure. But Sophie can’t get enough of that chameleon-like clown. When I interrupt his show she tells me, with just a look, that I had better hurry up and take her picture pretty quickly.
That’s alright. Because when the kids won’t play, the wildlife will pose for you.
I think I shall call the following picture, “The Unhappiest Little Sailor.” She may have been deep in thought, contemplating philosophical problems – although I think it’s more likely that she was put out by having her time with Mr Tumble cut short. But just tell her a rubbish joke, give her a tickle and she’ll fall straight back into her usual adorable self.
A day out on the boat can really take it out of you though. If it gets to your bedtime and you only have enough energy to wear half of your pyjamas, then you just have to own the look and hope that your Farrah Fawcett hair will distract from your under dressed bottom half.
And the sun starts to set, and the light glows and is perfect for portraits, so you squeeze in some more time with some really special little people and their honestly, inspiring foster parents, before asking Sophie to just look up one more time to get the catchlights in her eyes.
She does. She is beautiful. But you know she wishes you were that clown. I can take it. After all, I’m half way there with my burnt red nose.