Last year, I went to RSPB Bempton Cliffs for the third time.
It's a place I genuinely love, dramatic, exposed, and full of life, and I'd built the day up in my head. I was expecting one of those visits where everything clicks. Instead, it was hot, completely unsheltered, and physically hard work. My camera gear felt heavier with every step, the pain in my hip was relentless, and I left the main area sore, exhausted, and a little bit disappointed. Also, no puffins on this trip as I took a different path – tip from me if you are visiting Bempton Cliffs go left if you want puffins!
Sometimes photography days are like that. You do everything sort of right and still come away with very little to show for it.
I could have gone straight back to the caravan park I was staying at. Instead, I decided to change tack. I headed off to explore somewhere else nearby, partly for lunch, partly just to reset - I intended reading a book on a bench.
That's how I ended up at North Landing, Flamborough.I didn't really intend to shoot anything else but still took some of my camera gear with me
The path down to the beach at North Landing is very steep, so I took it slowly, ordered lunch at the The Boathouse Burger Shack (opens in Facebook) halfway down, and sat on the wall for a bit. And as I always do, I paid attention to what was going on around me.
That's when I heard it. A sound that stopped me mid-thought: the unmistakable noise of hungry swallow chicks in a nest.
The noise was coming from above The Boathouse, (which is a great little place to eat and absolutely worth the slope if you can manage it). The chicks were relentless, a constant, chaotic chorus that kicked off every time the adult bird came back with food.
I quickly grabbed my superzoom and focused on them tucked into their nest, beaks wide open, necks stretched.
I took the first shots shots without any real preparation. Waiting and holding that heavy zoom between mum coming back with food was arm-achingly tiring but worth every minute of pain.
Throughout, I was grinning like an idiot and pointing the chicks out to anyone nearby who looked vaguely interested 😄
I stayed a while longer and took more notice of things I walked straight past earlier when I was a bit disheartened. An old, decaying fishing boat beside the path down to the cliffs. Weathered, falling apart, and definitely worth photographing. I took a few shots, not because I felt I should, but because I wanted to.
Out at sea, I even spotted dolphins. Too far away to photograph properly, but close enough to recognise. That felt like a magical bonus to the day rather than a frustration – but on my list for this year!
By the time I started back up the path, the weather turned from that baking hot sun at Bempton to proper heavy rain. The kind that soaks you through in minutes. I was drenched, laughing, hair plastered to my face but I absolutely didn't care one bit.
What stuck with me wasn't the disappointment of the morning or the physical effort (did I say that path was steep?). It was the reminder that photography doesn't always reward the plan you make for it.
Sometimes the best moments happen when you don't plan, when you slow down, and when you just pay attention.
That day didn't give me what I went looking for. It gave me something better 💙
