Photo Journal
8th December // Ben Lomond
Ben Lomond // N56.190 W-4.633
The 7th of December had been a date cemented in my calendar since the summer. In a movement of progressing my photography journey I had submitted some of my best photos to open calls in UK galleries, and one such photo had been accepted by the Glasgow Gallery of Photography. Having this date fixed was the perfect excuse to visit the Scottish Highlands in winter conditions, something I had been longing to do for the last few years, fueled even more so by my recent outings in the snowy Welsh mountains.
Watching the forecast intently for the week prior, I was holding my hope in case the forecasted clear summits never materialised, but part of me was feeling a spell of luck, a realisation of a new mindset that I had adopted over the last month.
The day following from the exhibition, leaving long before a mere suggestion of morning was visible in the sky, myself and two friends set off for Loch Lomond, for our plan was a snowy sunrise from the summit of Ben Lomond.
Something to note, the day prior had been a named storm, one where in Wales, which is where I live, red weather alerts had been issued by the government, something I had never seen before. It seemed that the South West had the full extent of the storm, with Scotland, and in my case, Glasgow being comparatively sheltered.
However, the further up the mountainside we climbed, the more the remnants of the storm could be felt.
We weaved our way along the path, traversing the grassy banks avoiding the snow and rejoining the stoney path whenever a break from the patchy snow provided, until there was no other option than to walk along the snow.
The terrain was fairly easy going until the plateau we were following began to curl upwards and the final stretch of the hillside to reach the summit was in view. Though I had brought my crampons, putting them on is a lengthy ordeal, one which I hadn't the time for this morning as the sky had begun lightening and the sun would soon be breaking over the horizon.
With an ice axe for support the initial ascent on the compacted snow was the most precarious, soon becoming easier but never feeling unsafe. It was clear however at this point, that the summit wouldn't be reached in time for the sunrise, but in the small south-west facing recess in the mountainside we found ourselves in was sheltered from the bitter wind.
In this patch of solace amongst the cold we sat and watched the sun pierce through a small break in the horizon and the mountainside below was illuminated in a vivid pink.
As the sun traversed upwards its light was redirected by a block of cloud casting shafts of light to the glens further to the east and we took this as our sign to head for the summit.
As we climbed higher the clouds and sun sung in harmony, the wind whistling to the same tune, sweeping the clouds along the sky letting the sun shine through with intermittent hums. The diffused light through the clouds lit the mountainside, whilst the glens below were in the deep blue of darkness.
It was such a magical morning, and an indicator of what the rest of my short trip to Scotland had in store.
