There’s a quiet magic to winter in the north-east of Scotland. It’s a season that can wrap the landscape in glistening, frosted calm or soften the edges and transform the familiar into something otherworldly. During significant snowfalls, the world feels hushed, as though it’s paused to take a breath. It’s in these quiet moments that I find myself pulled to venture out with my camera, chasing the fleeting light and beauty of the season.

Heading out with my camera in this weather isn’t just about photography; it’s a form of mindfulness. The crunch of snow underfoot, the sharp, invigorating chill of the air, the silence that wraps around me like a soft blanket—it’s all part of the experience. In these moments, time seems to stretch, and the worries of the world fade away. I lose myself in the textures and patterns of the frost, the way the snow catches in the branches, and the delicate footprints left by wildlife braving the cold.

In the run up to and from the winter solstice, the days are short and the nights long. The low sun casts a golden glow making the world sparkle like it’s been dusted with tiny diamonds.

Living through the seasons here in the northeast of Scotland has taught me the value of embracing winter for what it is: a time to slow down, to rest, to appreciate. It’s tempting to resist the cold and darkness, to long for summer’s warmth and light. But winter has its own charm. There’s joy in bundling up against the cold, in savouring a hot drink after a frosty walk, in watching the world sparkle under a blanket of snow.

The silence of snow is something I’ve come to treasure. It’s not just the absence of noise but the presence of stillness. Even in the heart of the city, when the snow falls, it muffles the usual bustle and noise.

This season also inspires me creatively. There’s a purity to the winter landscape, a simplicity that lends itself to storytelling. Whether I’m capturing the stark beauty of bare trees against a white sky or the warm glow of lights spilling from a window, I feel connected to the rhythm of the season. Winter photography, for me, is about more than just creating beautiful images. It’s about capturing the feeling of this time of year—its stillness, its magic, its quiet invitation to slow down and savour.

As I wander along the old Deeside railway line or lose myself in the frosted hills and fields just beyond the city, I’m reminded of why I love living here. Winter isn’t just something to endure; it’s something to celebrate.

Here’s to embracing the cold and finding warmth in its beauty. And here’s to venturing out with a camera, capturing the fleeting magic of a season that’s anything but bleak.