Review of the Year My Favourite Images of 2015

At the end of a calendar year it is natural to reflect back over the last twelve months. I enjoy seeing photographers postings online of their personal selections from the year. There are some inspiring images and photographers out there. There are a variety of approaches such selections take and all work well. Some opt to show their 'best' image from each month. Others display their favourite ten or twelve images and so on. That is the great thing about such exercises, there are no rules - we can set our own parameters to please ourselves.

This image, made last winter, hand held, was tricky to compose and required vision to 'see' the final image in the field. A long lens was essential. Outside the edges of the frame are lots of distractions, which I felt weakened the image so I had to visualise the final crop when composing and put these distractions out of my mind. It was only back at the computer that this final image as I visualised it could be realised. Some I have shown this to complain about the wall with no gateway in it and suggest I should have cloned one in. To me, the solid wall completes the image, and anyway, cloning in a feature like that, personally, is unacceptable to me.

My decision here is to show a wide range of my favourite images. I have not limited myself by number or subject, I decided just to put together a collection of images I found especially pleasing from 2015. As an exercise, these reviews can be beneficial, especially if we keep each years sets and look back over them in future years. It is surprising how quickly some images we once felt delighted by, now make us cringe, while others remain firm favourites. As we reflect over previous collections we can see our skills with the camera improving, our creative and compositional eye developing and changing. Often we notice shifts in our chosen subjects, the way we portray them and development in ability to work in projects rather than simply cherry pick images.

Here I love the shadow cast by the tree on the snow and also felt the composition was strengthened by excluding the sky from the image. Simplification, for me, was the key here.

As I looked back and started to collect together my favourite images from 2015 it dawned on me just what a good year it has been photographically for me, culminating in what has been the best autumn in many years (even if the early winter has been somewhat disappointing). I have included more than my very best (or favourite) images of the year, deciding to pull together a wider collection of pictures I really like or which hold good memories for me. This is a bit of a cop out really, avoiding those difficult decisions that come when whittling collections down to just ten or twelve images, but I am prepared to live with the shame.

I love the flow in this image. I am often asked if the stone was there or did I place it? It was there, although I must confess after making this image I used the same stone in other compositions, moving it around, but none worked as well. Perhaps this shows nature is far better at art than we are?

I still have about 200 hundred images in my Lightroom Catalogue from 2015 marked for urgent processing, so more could be added to this collection over time. But if I wait, I might never get this done.

The image above and the one below were both taken within half an hour of each other at the same small lochan in the Cairngorms National Park on evening back in Februray 2015. For me, in both cases, it is the light on the water and the consequential reflected colours that make the images.

This panoramic shot is a crop from a photograph made before sunrise at Loch Insh, in an area of flooded marsh. Before the sun rose the water was perfectly still and the light cold and blue, the reflections were mesmerising. As soon as the sun broke the horizon, ripples disturbed the surface and the effect was lost.
Mineral stains and moss in Welsh slate create an amazing palate for the camera.
We were photographing the failing light of a March day in Snowdonia. At sunrise and sunset it is all too easy to point our cameras only in the direction of the sun, drawn like moths to the flame. Yet, so many times I have turned around and found the view behind far more pleasing. In this case a fleeting pool of golden light was dancing across the hillside behind us. I quickly span around and managed to catch this image of the light as it hurdled this dry stone wall on its race across the valley.
It is very rare for me to get a chance to photograph the moon, especially a full moon. Rarer still to get it so close to the horizon at dusk and for me to be in a beautiful place and with my camera ready. Here we were heading back around the lake after a very productive afternoons shooting at a location in Snowdonia. The sun has set and it was getting dark, we thought our work was done, then, the moon blessed us with this sight - it slowly peeked above the hills. Panic resulted as we rapidly unpacked and set up kit we thought had done its work for the day. Exposure control when shooting the moon is tricky. The histogram is your best friend. Expose to hold the detail on the moons surface. The closer the moon is to the horizon, the better your chance of the shot working. The higher in the sky it gets, the brighter it gets and before very long it is impossible to balance surface detail while revealing shadow detail on the ground. That's why shots like these are rare. Well, they are for me. I should, maybe, stay out for sunset a bit more often.
This is an image, of rust on an old sea defence, that came alive because of the light. It was dusk, the sun had set but the sky had an intense red afterglow and this brought the rust 'alive'.
This image owes a lot to Paul Kenny, an amazing artist and photographer, who certainly inspires me and who has taught me a great deal, not just about techniques but also about the thought processes of an artist. I will never be half the artist he is, but I loved making this, and a series of images I made with this image. This is a single image with no textures applied, made in my studio using a leaf found in my garden.
I just thought this was a beautiful tree against a beautiful sky.
And Derbyshire is not short of beautiful trees... Or beautiful skies, for that matter.
I don't always photograph landscapes. 
Rain Shower - Harris & Lewis.

A trip to the Hebridean island do Harris & Lewis was a particular highlight for me in 2015. Despite battling wind, rain and midges, it yielded nothing but glorious photographic opportunities day after day. As a place it is simply breathtaking. A place to spend a lifetime making images. With nothing between it and America, the prevailing wind brings constantly changing skies and weather. My pictures don't do it justice, but just to be there was a privilege.

Storm Incoming - Harris & Lewis.

I have written before of how, on the day two years ago, when I fell and broke my leg in Glencoe, I learned the benefit of shooting handheld. Since that day I have done much more of my landscape photography tripodless. I know this is heresy amongst most landscapers, but it is liberating and I have taken many of my favourite images this way. These images of mountain light have all been captured handheld and would have been much harder to get if I had been shackled to a tripod.

Last Light - Harris & Lewis.
A Room With a View - Harris & Lewis.
Another image made hand held, responding to fast changing conditions. This reminds me, for some reason, of Faye Godwins work (if only I can take an image as good as one of hers one day, then I can die a happy man!)
I am a sucker for a lone cloud. This one at Luskentyre, Harris & Lewis.
At times on Harris & Lewis we had perfectly still conditions giving us wonderful reflections like these. However, this also meant the midges came out to play.
The light this morning at Luskentyre was sublime. In the distance you will see a tiny white cottage by the dunes. I would like to live there, please.
Telegraph Poles - Harris & Lewis.
All iPhone images. Click or tap to expand. 
More favourites from the iPhone.
Autumn in Padley Gorge was glorious this year
Some intentional camera movement from Loch Morlich long after sunset, one November evening.
The following morning we had the most amazing pink pre-dawn glow at Loch Insh. The colour and stillness was breathtaking, almost too beautiful to photograph. I just wanted to stand and stare, but capture it I had to. This light only lasted minutes, but it is a morning I will never forget.
The autumn colour in the Cairngorms was simply breathtaking

The following is a collection of images of the autumn colour from the Cairngorms.

The Silver Birches were sparkling as if sprinkled in gold dubloons. 
iPhone images - Tap or click to expand.
More images, all shot and processed on the iPhone 
Iphoneography. 
Shot and processed on the iphone
Within moments of making this image I was engulfed in a fierce hail and rain storm that soaked to the skin. Wonderful!
I spent much more time this year photographing in the rain, and enjoyed every minute.
An intentional camera movement image made in the rain in Glen Etive.
More rain. More beautiful soft light.
Another image made in torrential rain in the mouth of Glencoe outside of the wonderfully situated Kings House Hotel. I was having to dry the lens after each frame as driving rain fought against me.
Our final morning on Rannoch Moor. It was pouring with rain as we gathered in the dark outside the hotel. It was very tempting to return to our beds and wait for the rather good full Scottish breakfast they serve at the Kings House. However, we pressed on with the optimism of the foolhardy. The rain didn't stop. The clouds didn't part, but we got some beautiful images. I was really happy with this one, loving the cold blue of the early light, the pattern of rain drops on the lochan and the spidery detail in the wee bush. An image I wouldn't have got from under the duvet.
Another day, this time at dusk and at the opposite end of the country. Conditions were, in the opinions of most 'normal' photographers, appalling. Gale force winds, driving rain and almost no light. Trying to use a tripod would have been stupid. Here I was handholding, working at ISO3200 and f/2.8, manually pre-focused in the middle distance (auto focus would have been useless in the near darkness). I fired frames as fast as the camera would allow, reacting to the waves breaking, enjoying the freedom of being tripodless. Most of the shots failed in one way or another, but a clutch were good and this one I really liked.

And finally, one of my last photographs of the year, taken in a woodland close to home. And, yes, it was raining.

Created By
Doug Chinnery
Appreciate

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