Return of the Light

A Solstice pause

“In the end, the shadow was only a small and passing thing; there was light and high beauty forever beyond its reach.” ~ JRR Tolkien, Return of the King

As Yule approaches, I usually find myself slowing down, looking back and reflecting on how my year has been. What I’ve learned, what I’ve gained and what I’ve released. Not to mention of course those hidden parts of me that are still stuck…old habits and unhelpful beliefs that like to pop right back up when I least expect it, tripping me up just as life is flowing along nicely, thank you very much! And so, as this is my final post for 2025, it feels like a good time to do a bit of a review of the year. To accompany this post, as we reach the time (in the northern hemisphere) where we’ll be celebrating the return of the light, I’ve included some of my favourite trees and woodland paths bathed in light.

At the start of 2025, I had a good (and totally over ambitious) idea of what I wanted to achieve this year, especially knowing that I would be retiring.

• I planned to work almost exclusively in black and white

• I wanted to complete three different projects (!)

• I would gather all the scattered pieces of information about my family and ancestors and write it all down in a book along with the amazing photographs from my father’s collection

• I would start work on a project for an RPS submission

• I hoped to bring some of my photo archive out into the light

Add to that my intention to get out in nature as much as I could and get my fitness back up to scratch for our walking holiday in the Lakes, and I had a pretty unrealistic and full to do list! And that’s without all the demands of every day family life!

I’d joined Substack in 2024 as a reader, lurking in the shadows until I finally summoned up the courage to show my work here in February 2025. It felt quite liberating to find that the lovely people here cared about each other’s work, writing open, honest posts, giving genuine opinions and opening up all sorts of areas for discussion. It was a breath of fresh air and I knew I’d found my photography tribe!

When I retired in July a sigh of relief spread through our household as the pressures of my work fell away and I could start to give those creative plans I’d put on hold the attention they deserved. I had quite a to do list but I started to chip away at it, becoming fired up by the inspiration I found here.

I walked and photographed more, wandering woodlands, along the coast and for two wonderful weeks walking the Lake District Fells. By setting out to record most of my walks in black and white, I learned to ‘see in mono’, noticing shape, shadow and texture much more. Whilst I know I’m not an accomplished black and white photographer, I’m learning to trust myself more, especially in woodland where monochrome can feel challenging, yet rewarding too. And so, all in all, it’s been a restorative year for me, one of reconnection with nature, with my creative self and with likeminded souls.

But let’s face it, (and to misquote Shakespeare) the course of true creativity never runs smooth! In October something shifted. I started doubting myself once again. I’d committed to presenting my Combe Valley project in black and white yet I found some of the colours nudging me. I argued with myself. Then I got scared of making the wrong choice and so instead of choosing one path or even experimenting, I froze with indecision. I was back to where I started!

It’s amazing how quickly the act of overthinking can drain the life from a project. So many of our creative blocks aren’t caused by a lack of ideas, but by the pressure we put on ourselves to get it right, to make the perfect choice, to honour that invisible standard we set ourselves. I had allowed Mr Doubt and Mrs Perfectionist to sit on my shoulders watching as I dithered, indecision growing until it became a kind of creative paralysis. The first of those old beliefs had raised its head and stuck its foot out just when I wasn’t looking!

As the beautiful autumn continued, I distracted myself from this, wandering more woodlands, enjoying the wonderful colour and light, until the day the rain started. Which just happened to coincide with the yellow planning notice appearing outside our house, warning us of a disastrous planning application that would certainly putting a spanner in the works of our family life, as well as having a big impact on nature and a wildlife corridor that runs behind our house.

And so, for the past month my days have generally been spent garnering support, dealing with emails and trying to understand documents written in jargon specifically to confuse the public! It’s been all consuming and has knocked the stuffing out of me and my creative inspiration – in fact I haven’t picked up a camera since 12^th November!

This isn’t how I envisioned ending the year, but it’s reminded me how fragile our creative energy can be. How easily it can be crowded out by life events and obligations. How quickly we can go from inspired and being immersed, to being tired, overstretched and burnt out creatively.

What have I learned from all of this? (or maybe that’s re-learned because I know this isn’t the first time!)

• Well, creativity needs the right headspace. It needs room to breathe, and when my mind’s full of worries and deadlines, or even too many choices, creative flow becomes almost impossible.

• Creativity is sensitive to what’s happening around us. When life’s storms rage in, it shelters, waiting for those storms to subside.

• Overthinking is creativity’s enemy. My indecisiveness and trying to make the ‘right’ choice robbed me of any creative joy in working on my project.

• Becoming all consumed kills creativity - in my case campaigning to stop the destruction of nature. I only have so much attention and by giving it to these other things I starve my creativity.

• Finally, and most importantly…all of this is completely normal! None of these creative lessons that have caused my dip mean that I’ve failed, they just mean I’m human!

So, perhaps this year hasn’t quite ended the way I planned; maybe I’m not looking proudly at a set of completed projects. Yet I am looking with a lot more understanding of what my creativity needs in order to thrive, along with what it can’t survive! And that for me could be a better gift than a completed photobook.

It’s been a gentle reminder that when life becomes full of busy-ness, I need to make more room for quiet and stillness. That when doubt creeps in, experimenting is kinder than perfectionism. And that creativity like any living thing needs nourishment, care, space and time.

And so, when I step into 2026, I‘m not making any grand plans. I’m simply going to revisit the projects that inspire me, quietly, without forcing things and with no expectations. Because I know that when I do that, the flicker of my creative light burns much brighter.

Now as the Wheel of the Year turns once more at the Winter Solstice (Yule), heralding the return of the light, I’ll be taking a break from Substack from next weekend, possibly until Imbolc at the start of February, to recharge my creative batteries. I’d like to thank all those kindred spirits who have made me feel so welcome here, who have given me so much inspiration through their own words and images and who have taken the time out to read my posts. I truly appreciate your feedback and support. Wishing you all a blessed Yule, and much love, light and laughter for the upcoming festive season. May 2026 be filled with creative promise for us all!

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Finally, I’d like to thank perfectlight for including me in his interview series this week. Sitting down and thinking about my inspirations and why’s was a great way of checking in with myself, something I learn a lot from. These interviews have introduced me to so many wonderful photographers over the course of this year, and I’m sure they contribute to growing the connection between the photographic community on here…so thank you once again perfectlight!

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