The Photography of Dr. Jeffrey P. Harper

It's nice when my wife has a golf tournament out of town . . . I get to drive here there and then explore the area around Fraserburgh.

The Waters of Philorth.

Fraserburgh Golf Club is the 7th oldest golf course in the world, having been founded in 1777.  It sits among the dunes on the Scottish Aberdeenshire Coast.

The sea breeze was strong along the tops of the dunes, but calm down in the deep sandy hollows.

Walking the dune trails had a mystical quality to me . . .

I crested a dune to find the North Sea . . . and miles of beach.

I looked left to the town of Fraserburgh, trying to decide which way to go . . .

Although walking east toward Fraserburgh looked inviting . . .

I decided to walk west toward the next village, Inverallochy, and what looked like a ship wreck.  I wandered around in the web of sandy trails looking for a way down the embankments to the broad beach.

There were beachcombers on the broad Fraserburgh beach.

Fascinating patterns in the sand to look at.

As sea level rises, the beach dunes are eroded.

Beach, sea, sky . . . looking like a tropical paradise, but at 5c, not exactly tropical.

I wasn't the o nly person out on such a fine and windy day . . . these brave wind surfers were preparing for their brand of fun.  I must add; the wind was very cold.

Jellyfish and feather.

A beach combing find from somewhere far off in the North Sea.

Such a broad beach creates wonderful patterns as the tide recedes.

Where the beach met a fast moving burn, a set of contrasting shapes, textures, and colors met in a happy collision.

I walked all the way to the end of the beach . . .

I arrived at the estuary of the Waters of Philorth, but could not find a way across the swift and deep waters without getting my feet wet.

The last big wave drained into the burn this way.

I didn't want to go back the way I came, so I walked inland along the stream knowing I would eventually run into the road.

I could not find a way across the burn, The Waters of Philorth, so I followed it inland, stopping here and there to study scenes of beauty.

The Waters of Philorth eventually came to the highway and this old disassembled rail bridge.

This inviting road stood in front of me, so I walked in until . . .

I walked up the road, which turned out to be the driveway of Castle Cairnbulg . . . and a 'Private Property' sign.  Yes, this is not only a real castle, but it has been continuously occupied by the original Fraser family since 1308.  Currently.  Katharine Fraser, Mistress of Salton, resides within the 700 year old walls.

I considered jumping the estate gates and exploring the park-like grounds of the castle . . .  but didn't.

I took a shortcut though a small wood and found this striking stump.

The gorse (ulex europaeus) was in full bloom.

Boggy land draining.

Of course, this trip was about my wife playing in a golf tournament.  I walked back through the historic golf course to the Fraserburgh Golf Club, the 7th oldest golf course in the world.  Although the golf club was officially established in 1777, golf has been recorded being played here since 1618 . . . 398 years!

It is a beautiful course in a beautiful setting.  It had been a fine day . . . with a five-mile walk.

With my wonderful wife playing a round of golf at a nearby course, I was free to ramble in the forest.

There were different kinds of woods.

The trail was good, and well-maintained. But each kind of forest had one thing in common . . . incredibly interesting and beautiful bark!  Barkscapes.

I spent Saturday morning walking in the Haughton County Park outside of Alford, Scotland.  There was much to see.

Haughton County Park encompasses a variety of landscapes, including a motorhome park, a stately mansion, and some wild forest land.

I wasn't the first person to visit these woods.  In fact, in the summer, when the campground and RV park fills up, I bet these woods are crawling with visitors . . . I don't mind.  I'm glad with the thought  people are out of their homes . . . and not in front of their television sets.

There are often very strong storms in Scotland with fierce winds.  There is a history of these storms in the blown down trees that litter the forest floor.

Some of the fallen trees have been down for a long time and show the action of time and weather.

The great winds have literally ripped some of the trees apart.

Broken, ripped, dried, and weathered.

Otherworldly landscapes in old wood.

Dreams in wood and bark.

A few of the fallen trees had been cut, revealing rings, patterns of color, and clefts.

Grounded stumps.

A history of slow healing.

Torn and cut.

Nature's Art.

Some trees had been on the forest floor for a very long time and were in a state of advanced decomposition.

The old and dead nurturing the new and living.

The living trees in this wood had their own strange beauty.

As is often the case, family members of the old estates traveled throughout the British Empire and brought back exotic trees and seeds.

Exposed to the sun over the winter months, the trees take on a green-tinged coating of light moss.

I had to remember that these trees were alive, in several senses of the word.  They were forming: changing, developing, and reacting.

A story left behind in scars . . . like people.

There was a mix of pines.

Pine bark, with its shattered, ever-expanding surfaces.

Another kind of pine/evergreen with a dusting of lichen.

Deep within the deep and dark forest . . . .

Late Winter, early Spring growth pushing the old bark away.

The work of woodsmen here and there.

Swirling, ripped, and torn beauty.

A Winter forest just waking up to Spring.

There have only been a few days of sunshine and "warm" weather since October, but the ferns were beginning to unfurl.

I was surprised, and mystified upon discovering this structure in the deep forest.

For the life of me I couldn't figure out what in the world it could be!

This open area in the forest was on the other side of the wooden structure . . .

Ah!  The Vale of Alford Curling Club forest curling pond . . . . now empty after the winter season.  What a surprise to see!

There were strategically placed benches in the wood.  I sat next to this interesting stone, the only stone I saw in the forest.  Little did I know just how interesting it was.  It was a named stone:  The Gordon Stane.

George Gordon, Lord of the Gordon Clan was laid out here after perishing is the Battle of Alford on July 2, 1645.  It seems the forest I was walking through had been a battlefield 371 years ago.

I walked through the boggy forest for many hours.

Such a beautiful place

I walked out of the forest and into the parkland that surrounds the mansion.

A line of exotic evergreens marked the drive to the mansion.

Haughton House mansion, a listed property,not part of the county park, and the offices of a very large RV and camping facility.

The daffodils were everywhere.

It felt like Spring  . . . at last!

Thank you Aberdeenshire for keeping such a wonderful park in such good shape.

I walked the mile back into the village of Alford and into the Grampian Transport Museum, where I work as a volunteer.  It was another great day in Scotland.

This blog entry is a little late in getting posted . . . my wonderful wife and I took this trip in mid-October 2014 . . . but the busyness of my life has, unfortunately, kept me from post-processing (I do very little) and posting.  ENJOY!

Oban Bay sunset on our Tattie Hols road trip.

In Scotland the schools have either a one or two week holiday, called The Tattie Hols, so the students can help harvest the potatoes. Not many young people harvest potatoes today, but the holiday remains.  I had a one-week holiday and, as we have done the past several years, took a road trip somewhere in Scotland.  We headed due west over the Grampian Mountains. This is the upper River Dee.

A beautiful glacier-cut valley in the Scottish Highlands.

We love our Scottish Highlands road trips.

Autumn is our favorite time of the year to be in the Highlands . . . the sky is so magnificent.

Highlands Fall colour.

Although there are very few houses in the Highlands, the ones that you do see are stately.

Our route skirted the Grampian Highlands along Loch Awe where we discovered the amazing St. Conan's Kirke.

It is rumored that a bone fragment of Robert the Bruce, King of Scotland 1306-1329, is buried here . . . but the LIGHT!

So much to see.  After a couple of days through the Highlands, we arrived at the Bridge of Lochay, near Killin.

We stayed the night in the old world Bridge of Lochay Hotel. 

The interior of the Bridge of Lochay Hotel had recently been tastefully renovated.

The Bridge of Lochay Hotel had a wonderful old intercom system that must have come when rural electrification arrived.

The hotel dining room was quaint . . .

. . . and the barman friendly and skilled.

I took an early morning walk across the bridge next to the hotel.

A thin light filtered through the trees.

Early morning along the River Lochay.

The River Lochay quickened as it fell under the bridge toward Loch Tay.

As we rounded a bend in the  road coming into Kenmore at the foot of Loch Tay we were stunned with this otherworldly sunset.

We stayed long enough with our mouths agape in wonder for the sunset to become golden.

On another morning near Loch Awe, we set off on a wooded trail.  There are many, many well-marked trails all over Scotland.

Tree.  Forest walk.

Our trail brought us along the shore of the loch.

Such beautiful scenery in Scotland.

Scenery to inspire a landscape artist.

The sky and light ever-changing . . . .

Migrating ducks were happy to dive for fish in the shallows.

We crossed Scotland to the west coast and the town of Oban for another fantastic sunset.  My wife loves oysters, and Oban has the best oysters in the world, she says.

We strolled along the Oban Esplanade during a stunning sunset one evening.

I had a wonderful amber ale with my seafood dinner in Oban, so we decided to see if we could find the brewery.  Loch Fyne, and the Fyne Ales, were only a few hours away.  We drove there and bought four cases of Jarl before heading on . . .

The bridge at the upper end of Loch Fyne.

The autumn hills across Loch Fyne. We had great oysters near here too.

Based on a restaurant tip, we headed down to Argylll from Oban . . . to find a brewery . . . and this sweet village.

 Our return route took us along Loch Lomond where we stayed overnight near the house-proud village of Aldochlay, before driving on to Glasgow.

I can't resist another photo of this lovely cottage and garden on Loch Lomond.

We stayed in Glasgow a few days before driving home to Aberdeen.  We love Glasgow, a city of 2.5 million souls.

We like walking around Glasgow.  There are many parks, but our favorite is the Glasgow Botanic Garden.

The greenhouses are fantastic.

It's nice to visit the tropical houses . . . we miss the tropical plants and heat of Bangkok sometimes.

The 12th century Glasgow Cathedral is certainly worth a visit. "It is also one of the few Scottish medieval churches (and the only medieval cathedral on the Scottish mainland) to have survived the Reformation not unroofed."

It goes without saying that the interior of Glasgow Cathedral is a phantasmagoria of images, light and shadow.

The pipe organ of Glasgow Cathedral.

I could have stayed all day in this old space.

The Museum of Modern Art in Glasgow with the famous statue of the Duke of Wellington with the traffic cone . . . yes, it is an art installation.

The interior of the Glasgow Museum of Modern Art.

We love to walk around Glasgow.  There is so much public art there . . . .

A winters' drive across western Scotland.

It was a five and a half hour drive from my home in Aberdeen to the Eilean Donan Castle in a heavy rain storm. I would stay the night nearby before crossing over to the Isle of Skye.

Amazing Scotland.

A cold mid-February day at the bridge to the Isle of Skye.

The Bridge of Skye opened in 1995.

The geography/geology of the Isle of Skye is like nothing else in the United Kingdom.

The roads on the Isle of Skye are narrow and, in general, hug the shore.  Many small waterfalls cascade all along the way.

As the road rises and falls along the sea, wonderful, moody vistas open up.  Here, an approaching snow squall creeps up the channel.

Occasional white cottages surprise along a green glen now and again.

The tiny roads wind along the seaside for miles and miles . . . always opening out on astonishing vistas.

Even the farmland had a strangeness abut it: the marks of time and human effort etched into its weird shapes.

The damp sleet and rain brought out the colors of the winter heather and straw.

Hillside waterfalls everywhere, nautical vistas, winter colors: Skye!

I stopped for coffee in the little town of Sligachan and this was my view from the cafe.

I was able to satisfy my lifelong lust for rusty corrugation and dilapidation on Skye.

Now and again I would pull over, eyes wide and mouth agape in wonder at the natural beauty of winter on Skye. Historical Sligachan Bridge.

The ever-changing weather on Skye sent me running for my car many  times.

Dustings of snow on the coastal hills of Skye.

The Skye upland pass . . . peat diggers have been here.

A marvel of geology.

The Isle of Skye is a popular destination in the seasons other than winter for rock climbers and mountaineers.

Waterfalls and wild mountain streams falling everywhere.

Wet and wild road across the Isle of Skye.

Farming, and shepherding, fishing, and tourism make up the local economy.

Marshland, inlets, heather, snow-capped peaks, wild weather, grand vistas . . . Skye has it all!

The clouds would break momentarily and sunny scenes would suddenly appear . . . I would pull over wherever I could and snap a few shots before running back to the car as the hail, sleet and snow quickly moved in.  A level 9 landscape photographers' challenge!

Boggy marsh, colorful hills, a cascading stream, and sheep.

Nature posing in a beautiful composition . . . just for me.

I had hoped to drive to the western tip of Skye, but my many stops for photos meant I only made it as far as Portree, a sweet village on the sound.  I had delicious soup and a shrimp sandwich in a small shop and chatted with a nice couple from Edinburgh.

On my way off the Isle of Skye in a strong gale in the fading winter light, I stopped and walked back up the Skye Bridge for a shot of the old lighthouse.

The view off the other side of the Bridge of Skye was up Loch Alsh toward the town of Kyle of Lochalsh.

In the last of the blue evening light . . . the view from the bridge across to the little village of Kyleakin ("Its name derives from 'Strait of Haakon' named after the King Haakon IV of Norway whose fleet moored there prior to the Battle of Largs in 1263 which ended Norwegian rule of the island.")

Sacks of scallop shells attest to the main product of the local fisheries.

I stayed in the little village of Dornie, just across the bridge and next to the much photographed Eilean Donan Castle.

My comfortable old Dornie Hotel.

I saw Eilean Donan castle morning and night.

The never tired of the view across Loch Duich:  Quintessential Scotland.

Eilean Donan in a driving sleet struck with the golden light of the setting sun.

My old Dornie Hotel was walking distance from the magnificent castle, so I walked over one evening to see it lit up in the darkness.  There were ghostlike traces about the sky that night.

This image, taken during a hard rain, popped out of my camera looking like this . . . . no explanation whatsoever.

My drive back home took me first up the A87 through rugged Glen Shiel toward Loch Ness.

Glen Sheil will lined on both sides by snow covered peaks that disappeared up into the white snowy mists.

Surrounded by snowy mountains, freshly coated.

I stopped often to photograph the stark winter beauty of Glen Sheil.

Glen Sheil winter vista near Loch Cluanie.

Snow on the Sgùrr Fhuaran.

Coming down out of Glen Sheil.

Snowy mountain tops disappearing in the falling snow above.

The snow came and went . . .

Around every bend . . . a new view.

Winter along the shores of Loch Cluanie.

First sighting of an old bridge.

I stopped along the River Moriston to gape at the old stone bridge in the freezing wind.

The drive through Glen Moriston offered many place to stop and enjoy and appreciate the views.

Winter road trips can be just as beautiful, if not more so, that any other season.

Forest reflections.

A magical experience to be standing out in a light rain in the silence of a forest stream.

Further along the road toward Loch Ness.  The damp winter colors were spectacular.

Had it been dry I would have walked down among this mystic grove.

I took many, many photos of Eilean Donan Castle. Many.  How could you not photograph this iconic landscape.

A lasting memory of my breathtaking winter sojourn to the Isle of Skye.

The drive was magnificent.

Famous Dunnottar Castle along the Aberdeenshire coast with the North Sea.

An ever-changing sunrise.

Morning flowers near Dunnottar Castle.

New bloom.

A nice hedge bloom.

The thistle is the symbol of Scotland.

This was a good time of the year to see the thistle in full bloom.

Wonderful thistle.

Scottish thistle.

A snail in the underbrush.

Morning light on the way.

Amazing Dunnottar Castle.

Another new day.