An October Morning in Venice: A Golden Hour Tour of St. Mark's

 There's a magic to Venice that's best found in the stillness of dawn. On an early October morning in 2018, as the first rays of sunlight pierced the horizon, the legendary city transformed. The canals lay glassy and still, reflecting a sky streaked with the softest pastels, and the air was thick with a quiet anticipation. This is the Venice that few travellers get to experience—the one before the crowds arrive.

The Grand Entrance to a Grand Square

Wandering towards the heart of the city, the journey's destination was clear. The light was liquid gold, and it seemed to coat every building in a warm, ethereal glow. The Piazza San Marco, or St. Mark's Square, is the only true "piazza" in Venice. For centuries, it has been the city's political and religious hub, and Napoleon himself famously called it the "drawing room of Europe." In the tranquillity of the morning, you can truly appreciate its scale and grandeur.

The two towering columns, the Colonna di San Todaro and the Colonna di San Marco, stood sentinel at the edge of the water. The first holds a statue of St. Theodore atop a crocodile, Venice’s original patron saint, while the second is crowned by the city’s iconic winged lion, the symbol of its current protector, St. Mark. They mark the grand gateway from the lagoon, and seeing them at sunrise feels like stepping through a portal to another time.

The Dazzling Basilica and the Tower of the Master

Dominating the square is the breath taking Saint Mark's Basilica, a spectacular masterpiece of Byzantine architecture. With its intricate marble carvings and five great domes, it's a testament to the city's immense wealth and power as a trading hub. Known as the "Basilica d'Oro" or the Golden Basilica, its facade sparkles with mosaics that hint at the gold leaf covering its interior. Legend has it that the church was built to house the relics of St. Mark, smuggled out of Alexandria by Venetian merchants in the 9th century.

Standing guard next to the basilica is the imposing St. Mark's Campanile, Venetians' beloved "master of the house." This brick bell tower, at nearly 100 meters tall, has a fascinating history. It's not the original tower; the first one collapsed in 1902 and was rebuilt exactly "as it was, where it was" (com'era, dov'era). From its top, you can get a spectacular panoramic view of the city, its bell regulating the pulse of Venetian life for centuries.

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Off to the side of the main square, tucked beside the Basilica, lies a quieter space: the Piazzetta dei Leoncini, or the "little square of the lions." Named for the two squatting red marble lions that stand guard, this area offers a more intimate experience. While the main square buzzes with energy, this corner provides a tranquil space to pause and take in the magnificent architecture of the Basilica from a different perspective.

As the morning light grew brighter and the first cafe tables were set out, the magic of the golden hour began to fade, replaced by the vibrant energy of a new day. But for a brief, beautiful moment, Venice belonged to the sunrise.

I took these pictures on the 31st October 2018 with a Nikon d3300.

Piazzetta dei Leoncini.

Colonna di San Todaro and the Colonna di San Marco.

St Mark's Campanile.

San Giorgio Maggiore Church.

Doge's Palace.

St Mark's Square.

St Mark's Basilica.

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A Frosty Morning's Embrace: Bridging Bradford's Landscape

There's a unique stillness to an early winter morning, especially one touched by frost. This image, captured on the 10th of December, 2022, perfectly encapsulates that quiet beauty. It's a view from a pedestrian bridge that gracefully arches over the A650 Wakefield Road dual carriageway, connecting the Sticker Lane and Dudley Hill areas of Bradford.

The photograph, taken with a Nikon D3300, tells a story of dawn breaking on a truly cold day. The path across the bridge is dusted with a delicate layer of frost, sparkling faintly in the nascent light. Each tiny ice crystal reflects the low, golden rays of the rising sun, creating a natural shimmer that contrasts beautifully with the dark, heavy clouds still clinging to the sky.

The railings, a mix of dark metal and a warmer, almost ochre tone on the brickwork at either end, frame the frosty expanse. Beyond the bridge, the trees stand bare and skeletal against the horizon, characteristic of winter's grip. Yet, there's a promise of warmth in the subtle glow that hints at the sun's eventual triumph over the morning chill.

This isn't just a bridge; it's a silent witness to countless commutes, daily strolls, and moments of quiet contemplation. On this particular morning, it offered a brief, picturesque interlude, a moment of stark beauty before the day's hustle truly began. It's a reminder that even in the most functional parts of our urban landscape, nature still finds a way to paint a breath taking scene.

Next time you're out on a frosty morning, take a moment. You might just find a similar, unexpected beauty right in your path.

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The picture remains the copyright of Colin Green.

A Tower of Passion: The Story Behind the Lumbutts Mill Water Tower Artwork

 Every piece of art tells a story, and this one is no different. My artwork of the Lumbutts Mill Water Tower is not just a depiction of a building; it's a conversation with history, a tribute to the passionate struggles that once defined this landscape.

The vibrant sunset colour scheme wasn't chosen at random. It's a deliberate artistic choice, a nod to the area's powerful and often turbulent past. The bold oranges and fiery reds are a direct reference to the 1838 Mankinholes Riots. The passion and fury of those events—fuelled by social and economic hardship—are symbolized in the intense, glowing light that seems to emanate from the tower itself. It's meant to evoke a feeling of simmering unrest and raw emotion.

The piece is a bridge between then and now. The Lumbutts Mill Water Tower, a sturdy structure that has witnessed decades of change, now stands as a quiet monument. By bathing it in the colours of a tumultuous sunset, the artwork gives the impression of a passion that still lingers in the air, a reminder that the history of this place is carved not just in stone, but in the spirit of the people who lived and fought here.

This isn't just a picture of a tower; it’s a representation of a moment in time, a feeling, and a history that deserves to be remembered. It’s a visual reminder that even the most stoic structures can hold within them the echo of human passion.

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The picture remains the copyright of Colin Green.

Unveiling History: A Dawn Walk at Baitings Dam

The sun began its slow ascent over the moorland, painting the sky in a blaze of gold and orange. The air, still cool from the night, held the promise of another warm day. But this wasn't just any sunrise; this was a moment of revelation at Baitings Dam, a reservoir that had, for a brief time, relinquished its hold on a forgotten piece of history.

Constructed to quench the thirst of Wakefield, Baitings Dam stands as a testament to human ingenuity. Completed in 1956 after eight years of arduous work and a cost of £1.4 million, it's the higher of two dams that harness the flow of the River Ryburn. Its lower sibling, Ryburn Dam, built in 1933, shares the task of supplying water to the city.

But with its completion came a bittersweet sacrifice: a small hamlet named Baitings was submerged beneath its rising waters. And with it, an ancient packhorse bridge, a vital link between the historic counties of Lancashire and Yorkshire, was lost to sight. Or so it seemed.

As I arrived on the morning of August 19th, 2022, the low water level—a result of the summer's heat—had performed a spectacular act of unveiling. The exposed, cracked earth of the reservoir bed stretched out before me, a stark contrast to the shimmering water that remained. And there, revealed in all its stoic glory, stood the old packhorse bridge.

For decades, this bridge has been a ghostly landmark, its existence a matter of local lore. While sensationalized reports claimed its first appearance in over 50 years, locals know better. This was not a unique event, but rather a more frequent occurrence in recent years, a consequence of the recurring summer heatwaves that are becoming the new norm in the UK. I’ve seen it at least three times in the last few years alone.

Standing by its side is a more modern successor: the concrete structure of Back O'th Heights Bridge. This bridge, with its sturdy pillars reaching down to the current waterline, offers a powerful visual lesson. The tell tale marks just beneath the road level show just how high the water can rise, a humbling reminder of the dam’s true capacity. When full, Baitings Dam holds an astounding 113 million cubic feet of water, or over 700 million gallons.

The River Ryburn, born from the run-off of the surrounding moorland, begins its journey here, flowing down the valley to eventually meet the River Calder at Sowerby Bridge, about six miles away. The dam is an integral part of this local landscape, and seeing it in this state of low ebb offered a unique perspective on its scale and the history it holds.

As the sun fully crested the horizon, its light caught the water's surface, creating a dazzling golden path that led directly to the rising sun. The pylon lines, a modern addition to the landscape, stretched across the sky, their silhouettes a stark line against the brilliant morning light. It was a beautiful, almost surreal scene.

For a photographer, Baitings Dam in this state is a dream. Every detail, from the cracked earth to the exposed foundations of the modern bridge and the newly visible old packhorse bridge, tells a story. And on this particular morning, using my Nikon d3300, I had the privilege of capturing a few chapters of that story as it unfolded under the golden light of a new day.

The tide marks underneath Back O'th Heights Bridge show the dams level when full.

The former bridge is submerged for most of the year, it's appearances becoming
more frequent in recent years.

The former bridge can be seen beyond it's replacement, this gives an idea of how low
the water level has dropped due to the recent dry weather.

The waterless back of the dam beyond the former bridge, the water level normally
hiding the river that feeds it.

I took this further up the A58 towards Rochdale, looking across the fields in the direction
of the bridges and Baitings Dam.

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A Sunrise Walk at Baitings Dam

There's a certain magic to an early morning walk, especially when you're there to witness a landscape change before your eyes. Baitings Dam has been a regular fixture in the local news lately, with the unusually low water levels exposing secrets that are usually hidden beneath the surface. While some reports claim the old packhorse bridge has been seen for the first time in 50 years, that’s not quite right. In a world of changing weather patterns, what was once a rare sight is now happening every couple of years.

Just a few days ago, on August 19, 2022, I got up before the sun to capture a moment that beautifully illustrates this change. With my Nikon D3300 in hand, I headed to the dam, a place I often walk my dogs. As the sun began to rise, it cast a golden light over the landscape, illuminating a scene that tells a story of both nature and human history.

In the foreground, the original packhorse bridge stands revealed. This historic crossing once spanned the River Ryburn, long before the construction of Baitings Dam was completed in 1956. It's a humbling sight, a testament to a time when travel and trade relied on these simple, sturdy stone structures.

Just behind it, the more modern Back O'th Heights bridge seems to float above the water, a new path built for a new era. When the dam is full, the water level comes within just a couple of feet of this bridge, making the presence of the old one below even more remarkable.

As the sun climbed higher, it bathed the entire scene in a stunning glow. Its light caught the dam's headwall in the distance, a massive structure holding back the water that has both created this modern reservoir and submerged the landscape of the past.

This sunrise at Baitings Dam was a powerful reminder that history is not just found in museums or books; it's often right beneath our feet, waiting for the right moment to be revealed.

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Painting the Sky: A Kelso Sunrise to Remember

There's something truly magical about a sunrise, and some linger in your memory long after the last rays have faded. This photograph, captured near Kelso, Scotland, on October 24th, 2018, is one such moment.

The sky is ablaze with an incredible palette of vibrant purples, deep fuchsias, and soft blues, blending seamlessly into one another. It's as if nature itself decided to become an artist, using the vast canvas above to create a masterpiece of light and colour. The clouds, catching these dramatic hues, add texture and depth to the scene, making the display even more breath taking.

Below this fiery spectacle, the tranquil waters of a loch or pond reflect the colours of the sky, mirroring the beauty above and adding a serene counterpoint to the vibrant drama. The dark silhouettes of the surrounding landscape—the rolling hills, distant trees, and the gentle curve of the land—frame the vibrant sky perfectly, enhancing its impact. A fence in the foreground grounds the image, hinting at pastoral surroundings and the quiet beauty of the Scottish Borders.

This image reminds us of the profound beauty that nature offers, especially in places like the Scottish Borders, where the landscapes are already so evocative. A sunset like this isn't just a daily occurrence; it's a profound experience, a moment of stillness and awe that leaves you feeling connected to something larger than yourself.

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The photo remains the copyright of Colin Green.

Golden Hues and Icy Sparkle: A Winter Morning in Wing, Buckinghamshire

There's something truly magical about a winter sunrise, especially when it's accompanied by a crisp, frosty landscape. This stunning photograph, captured on the 6th of February, 2020, in the charming village of Wing, Buckinghamshire, perfectly encapsulates that breathtaking beauty.

As the sun gently peeks above the horizon, it casts a warm, golden glow across the frosty fields. The low angle of the sun highlights every individual blade of grass, now coated in a shimmering layer of ice, creating a dazzling, almost ethereal effect. You can almost feel the chill in the air, a refreshing contrast to the comforting warmth radiating from the rising sun.

The silhouettes of the bare winter trees stand proudly against the brightening sky, their branches forming intricate patterns that add depth and character to the scene. The subtle mist clinging to the ground in the distance further enhances the atmospheric quality of the shot, hinting at the lingering cold before the day truly awakens.

In the foreground, the dark picket fence provides a wonderful leading line, drawing our eyes into the heart of the landscape and grounding the image with a touch of human presence amidst the natural spectacle.

This picture isn't just a photograph; it's a moment frozen in time, a reminder of the quiet beauty that winter mornings can offer. It speaks of tranquillity, new beginnings, and the simple joy of witnessing nature's artistry. A truly captivating scene from Wing, Buckinghamshire.

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Early Morning Sunrise in Zeebrugge.

These photos capture a moment etched in my memory: the November dawn breaking over the port of Zeebrugge, Belgium. Our ship was just arriving, a prelude to a magical trip to Bruges. That sunrise, a burst of color against the industrial harbour, felt like a promise of the beauty to come. It's funny how the start of a day can amplify the wonder of a place, and Bruges certainly lived up to that promise

 

The pictures were taken using a Polaroid IS2132 bridge camera on November 2, 2015.

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All the pictures remain the copyright of Colin Green.

Technicolour Sunset in Brechin, Scotland.

There are moments when the world seems to shed its ordinary skin, trading the muted tones of the everyday for a palette that feels almost supernatural. We’ve all had those evenings—the ones where you’re mid-sentence, perhaps washing dishes or walking to your car, and a sudden shift in light pulls your gaze upward. For a few fleeting minutes, the atmosphere performs a symphony of color so loud it demands absolute silence from everyone below.

The images before us aren't just snapshots of a day ending; they are a masterclass in atmospheric drama. With clouds rippling like molten gold against a backdrop of deep, electric indigo, they serve as a vivid reminder that nature is the ultimate artist, and we are lucky enough to have a front-row seat.

The Science of the Spectacle

To understand the beauty of a "fire sky," we have to look at the physics of Rayleigh scattering. During the day, the sun’s light travels a relatively short distance through the atmosphere, scattering shorter blue wavelengths and giving us a bright blue sky. But as the sun dips toward the horizon, that light has to travel through much more of the Earth's atmosphere to reach our eyes.

The atmosphere acts as a filter, scattering away the violets and blues and leaving behind the long-wavelength heroes: the reds, oranges, and yellows. When you add a textured layer of altocumulus or cirrus clouds into the mix—like the ones seen in these photos—those clouds act as a canvas, catching the sun's low-angle rays from beneath. The result is a high-contrast, high-drama landscape that feels more like a painting than a photograph.

A Study in Contrast: Blue vs. Gold

In the first image, what strikes the viewer most is the tension between the colours. We often think of sunsets as "warm," but the most breathtaking ones are those that maintain a "cool" counterpoint. Here, the deep, bruised blues of the upper atmosphere haven't quite given way to the evening. They sit heavily above a layer of clouds that look like they’ve been dipped in liquid phosphorus.

This contrast represents the duality of our own lives. We often operate in the "blue"—the steady, predictable, and sometimes heavy routine of the day. But then, there are the "golden" moments: the flashes of inspiration, the sudden bursts of joy, and the unexpected beauty that breaks through the ceiling of the mundane. The beauty isn't just in the gold; it’s in how the gold looks against the blue.

The Industrial Silhouette: Finding Beauty in the Ordinary

The second image offers a different perspective. We see the silhouettes of an industrial building and a line of trees. Usually, these are things we ignore. A warehouse or a treeline by the side of a road is part of the "background noise" of our commutes.

However, under the influence of such a sky, these structures are transformed. They become sharp, dark anchors for the chaos above. It’s a poignant reminder that beauty doesn't require a pristine mountain range or a white-sand beach to manifest. It can happen over a parking lot. It can happen over a suburban roof.

There is a profound lesson here about presence. If we wait for the "perfect" setting to be inspired, we miss the daily miracles occurring right above our heads. The most industrial, gray corners of our lives are still capable of being illuminated if the light is right.

The Road Ahead: The Neon Horizon

The third image captures a rare phenomenon: a sliver of neon green-yellow light cutting through the horizon just as the sun disappears. It looks like a gateway to another world. The road below is dark, almost invisible, but the sky is a roadmap of fire.

In literature and film, the "road" is the ultimate symbol of the journey. To drive toward a sky like this is to drive toward the unknown with a sense of awe rather than fear. It’s an invitation to keep moving, even when the path immediately in front of us is shrouded in shadow. As long as there is light on the horizon—no matter how strange or electric it may look—there is a reason to keep the engine running.

Why We Stop and Stare

Why is it that, despite having seen thousands of sunsets in our lifetimes, we still pull out our phones to take a picture? Why do we still point them out to our partners or friends?

It’s because a sunset is a reminder of impermanence. Unlike a painting in a gallery or a digital file on a hard drive, the sky is a live performance. It will never look exactly like this again. The wind will shift the clouds, the Earth will continue its tilt, and within ten minutes, the fire will fade into a soft, dusty purple, eventually giving way to the velvet black of night.

In a world that demands we be "productive" every waking second, stopping to look at a sunset is a radical act of stillness. It is one of the few things we do that serves no purpose other than to appreciate being alive. You can’t "use" a sunset. You can’t sell it. You can only witness it.

Capturing the Moment: A Photographer’s Challenge

For those trying to capture these moments, as seen in these highly saturated, HDR-style images, the goal is often to translate the feeling of the light rather than the literal reality. Human eyes have a dynamic range that cameras often struggle to match. To get the details in the dark trees and the bright highlights of the clouds simultaneously requires a bit of digital magic.

These images lean into that drama. They aren't trying to be subtle. They are shouting. They use saturation and contrast to mimic the "retinal shock" we feel when we see something truly spectacular. They remind us that sometimes, reality is too big for a standard lens.

Final Thoughts: The Fire Within

As the sun sets on another day, take a look at these images and ask yourself: When was the last time I looked up?

We spend so much of our time looking down—at our phones, at the pavement, at our desks. But the sky is a constant, ever-changing gallery that belongs to everyone. It doesn't matter who you are or where you are; the "Electric Sky" is yours for the taking.

Tonight, if the clouds are right and the sun is low, step outside. Leave the phone on the counter for a moment. Watch the gold bleed into the blue. Watch the silhouettes of your neighbourhood turn into art. And remember: no matter how dark the road ahead might seem, there is always a fire waiting to be lit in the clouds.

All the pictures remain the copyright of Colin Green.