​Although often referred to as the “Longest Day,” the summer solstice is actually the precise moment in time when the North Pole reaches its maximum tilt toward the Sun. This year, it occurs at 3:41 am on Saturday, June 21st. For those of us on the Peninsula, the Sun will rise at 4:27:39 am at its north-easternmost point of the year and won’t set until 10:22:32 pm, when it dips below the horizon at its north-westernmost point of the year. That will give us a remarkable 17 hours, 54 minutes, and 53 seconds of daylight. It’s little wonder that, after enduring the long, dark days of winter, these long summer days have such an uplifting effect on our mood and overall well-being.
 
A major reason for this seasonal boost is increased exposure to sunlight. Sunlight stimulates the brain to produce more serotonin—the “feel-good” chemical responsible for enhancing mood, calming the mind, and sharpening focus. With higher levels of serotonin, people often feel lighter, brighter, and more resilient. This is especially beneficial for those affected by seasonal affective disorder (SAD), a type of depression that often emerges with the darkness and cold of winter.
 
Sunlight also plays a crucial role in regulating our circadian rhythm, the body’s internal clock that governs when we feel awake or sleepy. As we stir in the morning, specialised cells in our eyes pick up on natural light, especially the blue in it, and send signals to the brain’s master clock. Our brain realises that it’s daytime and starts waking us up by adjusting things like hormones and body temperature. This daily reset helps our body stay in sync with the 24-hour day, helping us feel more alert, sleep more soundly, and function at our best.
 
Beyond its biological benefits, the abundance of daylight in summer invites us to spend more time outdoors, encouraging physical activity and fostering a deeper connection with nature. This combination of movement and mindful presence supports not only physical health but also mental well-being. While I certainly appreciate the physical perks, such as improved cardiovascular fitness, it’s the mental and emotional restoration that I appreciate most.
 
There is something hugely restorative and healing about spending time outside in the warm glow of summer, whether it’s a long walk in the hills, taking in the beautiful scenery, or sitting quietly by the shore, listening to the soothing rhythm of waves lapping on the shore.
 
When I spend time like this in nature, I notice that my attention is gently drawn rather than forcibly grabbed. This experience, known as “soft fascination”, describes the calming engagement we feel in natural environments. Instead of the noise and distractions of modern life, nature offers subtler, soothing stimuli – the rustle of leaves, the gentle babble of a stream, or clouds slowly shifting overhead. These quiet elements hold our attention just enough to keep us present without overwhelming the senses, allowing the mind to rest and recover. This in turn helps reduce mental fatigue and lower stress levels.
 
So ultimately, the long summer days help me sleep more soundly, feel more grounded, and experience the world with a calm sense of mindfulness. They remind me to slow down, be present, and let nature quietly work its magic. Here’s to those long and glorious days of summer – may they arrive quickly and linger long.

​To understand why our eyes are so adept at detecting and differentiating so many shades of green, it’s important to examine the underlying biology of our visual system.
 
The human retina contains three types of cone cells, each designed to detect specific light wavelengths. These cones are known as short (S), medium (M), and long (L) wavelength cones, which are most sensitive to blue, green, and red light, respectively.
 
All three types of cones work together to help us see a wide spectrum of millions of colours. However, the medium-wavelength cones, which are sensitive to green, are the most abundant and the most responsive. This increased sensitivity lets us distinguish a broad range of green shades with remarkable precision.
 
The biological emphasis on green detection is not coincidental. It’s an evolutionary trait. Our primate ancestors depended on their vision for survival in dense, green environments. Being able to detect the subtle differences between green hues helped them find edible plants, spot hidden predators, move through tricky terrain, and locate water. Those who were better at it had a higher chance of survival and passed this skill on to future generations.
 
As a result, our eyes can detect even the slightest variations in green hues, allowing us to recognise a wider range of green shades more easily and accurately than any other colour in the visible spectrum. This is also why the greens of spring appear so vibrant and diverse to us.
 
Our ability to detect so many shades of green not only affects how we see the natural world but also plays a key role in our psychological and emotional well-being. Since green is the colour most frequently processed by our eyes, it often feels calming and relaxing. Our brains can interpret green with little effort, making it one of the most soothing colours for the human eye.
 
Psychologically, green is often associated with balance, harmony, and renewal. These associations are deeply rooted in our evolutionary past, when seeing green likely signalled safety, abundance, and the presence of life-sustaining resources like water and vegetation. Today, green still brings a sense of calm and comfort and this is why it’s commonly used in certain environments to reduce stress, such as hospitals, schools, and workspaces.
 
Furthermore, spending time around green spaces – especially natural greens found in plants and outdoor areas – can help reduce anxiety, lower blood pressure, and improve concentration. This effect, known as “biophilia”, reflects our natural bond with nature and the calming power of green environments. Even artificial exposure, like viewing forest images or using green in interior design, can create a sense of calm and support mental recovery.
 
In summary, our natural sensitivity to green doesn’t just help us see the world more clearly – it helps us feel better while doing so. Green gives us both visual comfort and emotional calm, helping us feel more at peace and more connected to nature.

​Well, this canopy of distinct trees, which looks like clusters of broccoli florets, is because of a phenomenon called ‘crown shyness’ where the trees are not so much talking to each other, but more sensing each other’s presence.
 
Scientists think this happens because the trees can detect a specific type of light called far-red light. This light tells them when they are getting too close to their neighbours. When they sense this, they stop growing in that direction, which helps them make the best use of sunlight and ensures they don't compete for light.
 
Another possible reason for crown shyness is physical contact between branches during windy conditions. As the wind moves the branches, they rub against each other, causing small injuries or broken tips. Over time, this repeated friction may prevent further growth in those areas, creating the distinctive gaps between tree crowns.
 
Either way, this intriguing phenomenon underscores how trees, despite their stationary nature, exhibit remarkable sensitivity to themselves and their environment. However, it is thought that trees go beyond this and do in fact communicate with each other in a number of ways.
 
In his bestseller, The Secret Life of Trees, German forester Peter Wohlleben reveals how a gigantic underground fungal network, that he calls the “Internet of the Forest”, enables trees to exchange information. Known scientifically as the mycorrhizal network, it allows trees to exchange nutrients, water, and even chemical signals.
 
At its core are mycorrhizal fungi, which form symbiotic relationships with tree roots. The fungi provide trees with essential nutrients like phosphorus and nitrogen, while trees give the fungi sugars produced through photosynthesis. These fungal threads, called hyphae, spread through the soil, linking different plants and creating a vast, interconnected web.
 
He explains how trees use this network to communicate and support each other. For example, large, older trees, called "Mother Trees," send nutrients to younger or weaker trees. They also use it to release warning signals when under attack by pests or diseases, alerting their neighbours to activate their defences with the result that the health of the forest as a whole is maintained.
 
Another form of communication he describes is the mutual assistance they give each other through their root systems. A tree on the brink of death can be kept alive by a healthy neighbour. The latter shares the nutrients it has transformed through photosynthesis with the ailing tree until it is strong enough to feed itself. Similarly, young trees growing in the shade of larger ones often do not get enough light to photosynthesise their nutrients. So, in these cases, the larger, more established trees feed them via the vast, branching fungal network beneath the ground on which they sit.
 
Trees also communicate through the air using something called phytoncides. They are natural chemicals produced by plants, especially trees, to defend against harmful microorganisms and are released into the air around the trees. They are also beneficial to us and when we walk through the woodland, we unknowingly breathe them in, boosting our immune system and overall health. So, the next time you are wandering through trees, remember – they’re constantly talking to each other, supporting one another, and even benefiting us in the process.

​Well, the silence is indeed real, and it’s all down to snow’s remarkable ability to absorb sound, an ability that can be explained by its unique structure.
 
Freshly fallen snow consists of a delicate network of ice crystals interspersed with countless tiny air pockets that play a crucial role in scattering and absorbing sound waves. When sound waves travel across a snowy landscape, they are diffused and dampened by these air pockets, reducing the level of ambient noise and this is why a fresh blanket of snow often creates a sense of tranquillity that feels almost magical.
 
The effect is most pronounced when the snow is fresh and fluffy, because this type of snow has the highest volume of air trapped within its crystalline structure. In contrast, as snow ages or undergoes compression — whether from melting, refreezing, or being trampled underfoot — the intricate network of air pockets diminishes. This compacted snow has much less sound-absorbing capability, allowing sound waves to travel more freely across the landscape and restore some of the usual ambient noise.
 
The large, sound dampening fluffy snowflakes are born of creative processes at play high up in our atmosphere where water vapour condenses around microscopic particles of dust and pollen. These specks serve as the nuclei for ice crystals and when the temperature is between about -3°C and -10°C, these ice crystals grow and branch out into six-sided structures, each one uniquely determined by the temperature and humidity of the atmosphere.
 
As these delicate structures descend through the atmosphere, they encounter varying temperatures and air currents and when the humidity is high, water vapour continues to deposit on them, causing them to grow larger and more elaborate as they fall. When it is calm and there is little or no wind, the resulting snowflakes remain intact during their descent, allowing them to maintain their large, delicate shapes and fall gently to the ground without much compression.
 
When the ground is cold, it prevents the snowflakes from melting or sticking together upon landing, preserving their structure, enhancing their light and fluffy nature to create a soft white blanket that is extremely effective at silencing the landscape.
 
Without the hum of occasional distant traffic, the chatter of birds, the rustling of leaves, or the rippling of water, it’s perhaps no surprise that a profound sense of peace often envelops me when I venture out after a fresh fall of snow, once this blanket of silence has formed.
 
The stillness feels tangible and otherworldly and one that is intensified by the simplicity of the scene before me. In the woodlands, the snow has smoothed out imperfections and softened harsh lines. The ancient oaks are draped in delicate white, with their branches outlined like intricate etchings against the hillsides, seemingly standing clear of the chaos that normally surrounds them.
 
As I wander through these familiar surroundings, ones that have been reshaped by the snow’s transformative power, with the crunch of snow under my feet being the only sound to break the stillness, the complexities of modern life seem to disappear and the only thing I hear is nature’s invitation to slow down, breathe in the crisp air and find peace in the change that winter brings.

​Well, it seems that the perception that time speeds up as we age is a common experience, and it stems from a combination of psychological, biological, and cognitive factors. Put simply, while time itself remains constant, our interpretation of it changes over the course of our lives due to shifts in how our brains process and recall experiences.
 
One of the most widely accepted explanations for this is what’s called proportional theory. For example, to a 10-year-old, one year is 10% of their life, which feels substantial. To a 50-year-old, however, one year is only 2% of their life, making it feel much shorter in comparison. This proportional difference influences our perception of time, making it feel as though each successive year is progressively faster.
 
Another explanation involves how our brains perceive time based on the number of memorable or novel events we experience. In childhood and early adulthood, life is filled with “firsts” — first school, first job, first love, or first big trip. These novel experiences are more likely to be stored in our long-term memory, and because we recall more details from these periods, they feel longer in retrospect.
 
Daily routines and predictable patterns also play a significant role in the sensation of accelerated time because adults often settle into rhythms that involve work, family, and social obligations, which can become repetitive. This regularity contrasts with the dynamic and exploratory nature of youth, which feels slower due to constant change and learning. When days blur together due to monotony, months and years can seem to vanish quickly.
 
There are also neurological factors because, as we age, there are changes in brain activity related to time perception. Studies suggest that our internal clock, which is influenced by neural processing, may slow down as we grow older. This means that fewer mental markers are laid down over a given period, leading to the sensation that time is speeding up. Additionally, the production of dopamine, a neurotransmitter associated with time perception, decreases with age and so potentially alters how we experience the passage of time.
 
Also, as adults, we tend to focus more on future planning or present responsibilities, which leaves less room for moment-to-moment awareness. The more we operate on autopilot, the faster time seems to pass, a contrast to the detailed attention children pay to their surroundings.
 
Finally, as we grow older, the awareness of our mortality becomes more pronounced, often influenced by life experiences such as the loss of loved ones, health challenges, or reaching significant life milestones. This growing consciousness that the time ahead is finite may lead to a heightened focus on how quickly the years pass, amplifying the sensation of time’s acceleration. This awareness can also create a sense of urgency to accomplish goals or cherish meaningful moments, which paradoxically makes time feel even shorter because we are actively measuring its passage.
 
However, if you are feeling that time is passing far too quickly, you can slow it down by introducing more novelty and variety into your daily life. Engaging in new activities, traveling to unfamiliar places, or learning new skills creates vivid memories, making time feel richer and longer. Practicing mindfulness can also help by anchoring your attention to the present moment, reducing the tendency for days to blur together. Additionally, reflecting on your days through journaling or photography enhances memory recall, creating a more detailed sense of time and stretching its perceived passage. I wonder. Will time slow down if I get out with the camera more often?

On 6th July 2021, I slipped on some wet rocks at Ardtoe, dislocating my knee and tearing my patellar tendon in two. Following an operation to repair the damage, I found myself immobilised and in a knee brace until early November and unable to get out and do any photography.
 
While laid up in the brace, I set myself the target of getting back out with the camera by the start of 2022 and the objective of taking 5 or 6 images each month that captured the varying landscape and moods of the Peninsula throughout the year.
 
With limited mobility, especially at the start of the year, I had to think carefully about locations I could safely go that would provide me with opportunities to take the photographs that I had in mind. This was a bit of a challenge at first, but I found that this limitation helped me with my creativity.
 
By the end of the year, I had visited enough locations and taken enough photographs to enable me to create a collection of 72 images, or six for each month to reasonably portray the Peninsula over the course of 2022. Twelve of these images, one for each month, are presented in this blog and I plan to share the rest of them over the course of the coming year in a new section on this website titled “A Year on the Peninsula”.
 
As well as the collection of images, the project provided me with the motivation to get “out there” and get back into my photography and aid my recovery. When pulling these images together, I was certainly reminded of how far I have come since that day in January when I gingerly made my way down the jetty at Salen with the help of a crutch to take the first photograph in this collection. I still have a number of months left in my 18-24 month long recovery period and hopefully, as my ability to walk on uneven ground and also downhill improves, I’ll be able to range further afield and photograph locations that I have not been able to get to since that fateful day in July 2021.

Take this month’s image, which was shot on a beautifully sunny day in July out at Sanna, looking north across the bay to the Small Isles beyond. On days such as this, with bright sunlight overhead, the sea takes on an intense range of blue hues ranging from light blues of the shallow water to the dark blues of the deeper water, all caused by the way light interacts with the seawater.
 
You see, daylight is made up of many different visible colours, ranging from reds and oranges to blues and violets, with the reds and oranges having the longest wavelengths and the blues and violets having the shortest. As water molecules are better at absorbing light with longer wavelengths, they absorb much of the red, orange, yellow and green light. The bluer colours, with shorter wavelengths, are less likely to be absorbed and so are reflected by the white sand on the seabed to give the sea its blue hues.
 
In shallow water, there are fewer water molecules to absorb the red, orange, yellow and green light, so more of it reaches the seabed to be reflected with the blues and violets and give either clear or slightly blue water. However, the deeper the water becomes, the more the reds, oranges, yellows and greens are absorbed and the deeper blue the colour of the water becomes, until you reach the point where no visible light can reach the seabed and the water becomes completely dark.
 
I find something quite captivating about the aquatic blue hues of the sea at places such as Sanna and I’m sure that this is reflected in my affinity for water and for photographing the sea and the coastline. In fact, it has been documented that our affinity for water is reflected in our near-universal attraction to the colour blue and that we associate this colour with qualities like calm, openness, depth and wisdom.

The link between the two has even been developed into something called “Blue Mind Science”, the study of aquatic environments’ health benefits that was first popularised by marine biologist Dr Wallace Nichols in his 2014 book, “Blue Mind”. Simply put, Blue Mind is a mildly meditative state that people fall into when they are near, in, under or on water and some of the physical and mental health benefits include:
​

• Triggering involuntary attention, which is essential to problem-solving and creativity.
• Increasing the levels of neurotransmitters such as dopamine, sometimes called the feel-good hormone; serotonin, also known as the happiness hormone; and oxytocin, described as the cuddle hormone; as well as decreasing cortisol, described as the stress hormone.
• Acting as a source of awe that expands a person’s compassion.
• The colour, sound and feel of water lowering the pulse rate and increasing feelings of calmness.

​So, if you’re seeing red, feeling angry, anxious, and stressed, then head to the coast for some “Blue Mindfulness”. I can highly recommend it.

I’m a morning person and naturally wake up early, but I do realise that not everyone is like this. Therefore, I thought that I’d give some reasons why I think it is good to at least once, get up early with the birds, head to a favourite place and watch a new day begin:

• Be in the moment: In my blog in February, I wrote about how photography was an act of mindfulness that allows you to focus not on your outside concerns, but solely on the moment and the task at hand and the mental wellbeing that this brings. I find that watching the light and colours appear at sunrise gives me a similar experience because it encourages me to stop and realise that, as a new day begins, it is presenting me with an opportunity to enjoy everything it has to offer. 
• Improve your mood:  When you watch a sunrise, it will most likely put you in a better mood for the rest of the day. In fact, it has been proven that it relieves stress and has many physical benefits, so the next time you’re having a tough time, go to your favourite spot and watch the sun come up while your worries wash away.
• Your sleep and health: Getting out in the natural light of the morning is beneficial for our sleep because exposure to light early in the day, as well as physical activity, helps to set our internal body clock and so protect us from certain diseases.
  
• Protection from sunburn: The time of day has a significant impact on the amount and kind of light we enjoy, and early morning exposes us to a type of sunlight that we do not get during the rest of the day. It is low in the ultraviolet rays that cause sunburn and high in the infrared rays that enhance and strengthen the skin, doing this in a way that protects it from sunburn.
• Seeing colours that you never knew could exist in nature: When people see one of my sunrise photos they often ask, was it really that colourful. Well, yes, because the colours that the sun creates as it rises from below the horizon can be truly amazing and unlike any you might see at a different time of the day.
• Every sunrise is different:  The American author Jonathan P Lamas said that “Just like the days, no two sunrises are ever the same.” This is completely true because during each sunrise the light and colours evolve a little bit differently, making each one unique and well worth getting out of bed for.
• Better for photography: While photographing at sunset can yield stunning landscape photographs, I think that photographing at sunrise is much better because there tends to be fewer people about and there is less haze in the atmosphere. This means that you can pick your compositions without worrying about having to avoid people in them and you will have clear pictures as the air is visibly clearer.​
  
• It’s absolutely free: Last but certainly not least, is that it doesn’t cost a penny. Mother nature puts on these wonderful and colourful shows for free, so why don’t you set that alarm, get up early, take some coffee and get out there to enjoy the show?

​I spent much of my childhood outdoors exploring the rolling Scottish Borders countryside and have many fond memories of the adventures that this entailed. Back then, I’m sure I never gave much thought to the benefits of time outdoors and it wasn’t until I moved to Glasgow for work that I started to appreciate how differently I felt when I was in the countryside. Day trips for a walk in the hills became a welcome relief from both the pace of city centre living and the pressures of my work. A camera always accompanied me and, as the years passed, photography became a bigger and bigger part of the experience, acting as my “mind medicine”, encouraging me to slow down, look carefully and really appreciate my surroundings.
 
Studies by researchers at Lancaster University into the effects of photography on mental wellbeing back this up.  They found that the act of finding a subject, trying different compositions and changing positions to alter the light requires such focus that it can be a meditative task, or an act of mindfulness that allows you to focus not on your outside concerns, but solely on the moment and the task at hand. I find this with landscape photography because it requires a great deal of patience to sit on a hillside, having framed a composition and wait for the right light and the perfect moment to press the shutter button. During this time, nothing else is on my mind and I feel completely detached from any stresses and pressures that life might hold.
 
Photography can also provide an artistic outlet, which many people may not have through any other means, and other studies have found that immersing yourself in a creative activity elevates mood while lowering both anxiety and stress hormone levels. Additionally, there are the general physical benefits of going for a walk with a camera, with the desire to capture images translating into the motivation to get outdoors at times when you would otherwise remain at home.
 
Finally, please do not think that landscape photography is limited to people with lots of expensive equipment. You will probably have a perfectly capable camera in your pocket because the quality of smartphone cameras nowadays allows almost anyone to capture some good images. So why don’t you get out into the beautiful landscape that surrounds us here on the Peninsula and try it out. With the sun still low enough in the sky to give us some lovely light, it is the perfect time of year to start. Get out there, take some pictures and feel all the better for it.