· 2 min read
What I learned from my first month of golden hour shoots
Thirty days, twenty six alarms before six, and a slightly better idea of what light actually does.
In August I set myself a small, unreasonable rule. Every day for a month I would be somewhere outside with a camera for either sunrise or sunset. Not necessarily somewhere grand. Just somewhere.
I managed twenty six mornings and evenings out of thirty one. Four were rained off, and one was a wedding where I decided being a guest was more important. Here is what I learned.
Golden hour is not an hour
The apps say an hour. The light says otherwise. In Somerset in August the properly warm, low light lasted about twenty five minutes at sunset, and the best of it was the final eight. In the morning it was shorter still, because the mist on the Levels takes a while to decide what it is doing.
The useful lesson: arrive forty minutes early, set up, and then do nothing. Have a biscuit. Look at the hedge. The light will tell you when it is time.
The best light is often behind you
For the first week I pointed the camera straight at the sun because that is where the drama is. Then on a Tuesday near Castle Cary I turned round and saw the hay bales lit side on, every one throwing a long shadow across the field.
Light that comes from the side shows texture. Light from behind you shows colour. Light straight ahead mostly shows lens flare and my own optimism.
Weather forecasts are a starting point
I check three: the Met Office, a cloud cover map and a mist forecast. They agree about half the time. The mornings that worked best were after a clear, still night following a warm day, when the ground cooled and the mist settled in the rhynes.
Things I now always carry
- A head torch, because walking up Glastonbury Tor in the dark is lovely until it is not
- A small towel for the lens, the bag and occasionally my face
- A flask of tea, which is not optional
- A notebook with sun times written in by hand, so I am not staring at my phone
A short video from the month
I filmed a few mornings on my phone and stitched them together. It is mostly mist and me saying "oh" quietly.
What I would tell myself on day one
Go to the same place more than once. My favourite picture from the month came from my fifth visit to the same gateway. The first four visits taught me where to stand.
