The surge of beauty and tranquility emancipated from a sunset is far more powerful than anything you may find coming out of a plug socket.
7:45 AM. I’m slumbering like a wild hybernating bear when all of a sudden my subconscious ears hear the words “woah, look at that sunrise!” cascading up the stairs and into my room from below. My mother found it bewildering, so there’s a strong chance that I would too.
Inspired by her words, I sprung out of bed, grabbed the camera sleeping at the end of my unit, flung open the window and caught the sun dancing with the silouette of the trees.
This is a photography series where I dig up some of the old photographs found on the half-broken netbook that I used to use and store my work on two years ago. Tonight, I present an image that I snapped on a muggy winter night of 2012 while cycling down the coast of North Quensferry, Scotland, in an ambitious attempt to capture a picture of the famous Scottish Forth Road Bridge, which connects the county of Fife to the capital of Scotland, Edinburgh.
Evidently, there was subtle editing applied to this image upon it reaching the netbook I was using at the time, hence the sleek plummy purple and garnet red colours that flow through the sky and water of this image. This not only invigorates the night scene with a sophisticated amount of energy and rigor, but also symbolises the pure tranquility and peacefulness that I personally felt at that moment, braided in the deep silence of the night.