Being behind the camera is both my happy place and - curiously - my unhappy place. When things aren't going well and it doesn't seem to be working, it's incredibly stressful and frustrating. But when things start going right, and I start taking good photos, I don't think I could be in a happier place.
There's a build-up to it. You don't race in with a camera and immediately start snapping photos - well, I don't. I never take a snapshot - I'm incapable of it. With Coast, my new book with my former Listener colleague Bruce Ansley, I'd often spend hours just sitting there with a camera. It really makes you look at things differently.
I'd watch all the small things and nuances and figure out where the light was falling and where the biggest waves were coming in and where the birds were flying from.
I'd watch things far more closely and in a different way than I would if I was sitting there without my camera. It's a lovely way of seeing things. It's quite contemplative. You're imagining how it might look once it's in the camera and once it's printed. It's not a bad way of slowing things down.
Often, it's just a matter of waiting and looking - and I'm not just talking about landscapes and seascapes, but people, too. You just sit and watch and wait and start building up an impression of how you might like to photograph them, and building up a rapport. And all of a sudden all those things align and you realise you've got your opportunity to take a photo you'll be happy with.
