When life feels hopeless, it is easy to believe that nothing will change. But every day does come to an end, and tomorrow can be a new beginning, especially when you find the strength to turn away from the things that trouble you and towards hope, peace, and a better direction.

I have always struggled photographing bluebells, as I know have many other professional photographers, and my current post mountaineering accident following last years new hip status has meant that for two years running this man has not been able to get down low to do them something of the justice they deserve.

a quiet moment to end the week My Friday Image with  the words "Hope Means Hoping Even When Things Seem Hopeless' to Encourage Your Weekend Waiting for the mist over lift. I came across these words "Hope Means Hoping Even When Things Seem Hopeless" earlier this week, and thought they matched well with the image near Pugs Hole in Wiltshire, UK. There are times when life feels like this landscape. The way ahead is there, but you cannot properly see it. The wider shape of thing

A few days ago I took a number of photographs of the same small clump of flowers, initially from the same angle, to share with you the effect of choosing the point of focus by selecting a different flower to focus on, and how that alters both the whole image and our mental response to it.

If it's been a good week, great, pleased for you. Have you taken any of your time to drop some encouragement on the lap of those around you who may not be in such a good place? It doesn't take very long, or too much, to change someone's day, and each day changed can lead to a life changed.

Good Friday can very reasonably be described as the saddest and most glorious day of the year. It is the saddest, because it confronts us with the full weight of sin, cruelty, injustice and suffering, all falling upon Christ.

There are times when I have become convinced that certain photographs simply do not wish to be taken.

Let your eyes search the still dark areas to the left middle, the writhing water of the foreground slipping into the fast moving runnel that carries your eye back towards the sun. Within a short while the mist will be gone, and you will see other things - but for now, love the moment

A couple of weeks ago i was outside with my new puppy doing the sort of things puppy's do to profusion in the early morning. The outside table had been gently painted with a fine layer of frost, and had picked out the features of the grain to a qute remarkable degree, highlighted by the low angle of the sunshine..

I noticed this piece of broken glass on the beach yesterday morning and was taken with the whole idea that despite being essentially broken and of no value for it's original purpose, it had been smoothed by it's path backwards and forwards across the beach over many tides; and in doing so had developed a beauty of it's own for those who looked and saw, and appreciated the way the light changed it.

Seek to remove the horizon - it does things to the brain when you do. You Start to look for shape, and balance. Rowers and kayakers stop being athletes for a moment. They become lines, spacing and rhythm across the water.

Notice details of trees, moss on logs, or rocks, the way a wave surges back leaving a mist in the air. The light that shines through a hole in the cloud in the distance. Instead of concentrating only on the subject, notice the space between you and it. Notice how distance changes things. Contrast softens. Colours fade. Shapes simplify - either blending, or becoming more defined.

The light changes minute by minute during dusk. A sky that feels dull can become rich blue ten minutes later. Artificial lighting strengthens as the winter evening progresses. Stand still, watch the light change, and let the scene reveal itself before taking the photograph.

The knots in our minds are often the hardest to unravel, so very true sometimes. Anything come to mind? It takes time and sometimes there seems no route, but there probably is.

We were high in the Pyrenees, having risen early to avoid the heat as we climbed towards the col, leaving Spain behind us. In the distance stood Vignemale, the highest peak in the French Pyrenees at 3,298 metres. I found myself transfixed. Ridge after ridge dissolved gently into blue. It is an effect I have always loved.

An old door, photographed in France, in desperate need of a rub-down and a coat of paint. But also a thing of beauty, a work of art resulting from the effects of time and weather.

With Image Two, I've changed the angle slightly, and cropped in enough to exclude the candlestick. The brain is now much more focused than previously, when it may have been rather distracted. Because of the background I didn't lower the camera angle, or there would have been too much extraneous junk in the background, and the artificial light, in the form of a spotlight, would have caught the surface of the lens and caused undesirable internal reflections leading to flare

a quiet moment to end the week with A reminder; "Fulfilment comes from the journey, especially if it's a tough one.".

I walked into town the other day along the banks of the River Avon, i was caught up by one of my favourite things to spend time watching - and occasionally photographing - flowing water, the way it catches light, interfering with reflections, almost but not quite repeating patterns.

Most of us were taught we have five senses. In reality, we also have senses that help us read our body, movement, and internal state. Sunrise and sunset are perfect moments to practise them, because the world slows down enough for you to feel what is usually drowned out.

This video, with a very dour voice to start (sorry) is to inspire you to get in there and see the close-up beauty of Galanthus nivalis, and maybe take some photographs.

Has something happened this week that's left a deep darkness, or hurt. Search as hard as your soul will let you, for something good that happened. If you can't think of anything, than pick up your mobile, or even better a pen and paper, and write a kind note to someone else who's struggling. It will change you, as well as them.

Image One is the result of having the lens with nothing to stop the light bouncing around inside the lens, causing the same flare we've talked about before. But this particular morning there was something at stake - pretty cottages, a frosty field and a country scene.

Yet in the verges and in the shy corners of gardens, the first celandines (Ficaria verna) had appeared. Little sparks of yellow that lift the soul. Much like the local priest arriving with hot bangers, mash and BB, and banana custard afterwards, they quietly encourage you to paddle on.