There is something about the Scottish Highlands that always draws me in—maybe it is the raw, untamed beauty or the way the landscape seems to hold onto its history. Standing by the shores of Loch Assynt, with the brooding silhouette of Quinag in the distance, I felt that familiar sense of quiet awe.
The morning was still, the sky heavy with thick clouds, casting a soft, moody light over the water. I had come here hoping for some dramatic light, but as I stood there, I realised that this subdued atmosphere suited the scene perfectly. The loch was calm, its surface smooth and reflective, interrupted only by a few remnants of old wooden posts reaching out from the water.
In the foreground, a weathered boulder wrapped in rusty chains caught my attention. It was a small detail, but it added a sense of mystery—what had it once been used for? An old mooring point? A forgotten relic of the past? The contrast between the rough, lichen-covered rock and the soft grasses around it made for a perfect foreground element, leading the eye towards the loch and the distant peaks beyond.
I took my time composing the image, letting the stone wall guide the eye into the scene. The whole place felt timeless—unchanging, despite the passage of years. Scotland has a way of making you slow down, appreciate the details, and embrace whatever conditions you are given. This was one of those moments.
