Sometimes we look. Sometimes we see. There is a difference.

I photograph many different things. People, wildlife, landscapes, sport, architecture and the traces of our past all find their way in front of my camera. On the surface they may have very little in common, but for me the reason for taking the photograph is often the same.

Something has caught my attention.

It might be a particular expression, the way light falls across an ordinary object, a fleeting moment that will never happen in quite the same way again, or simply something that makes me stop and look twice.

I don't think photography is only about recording what is in front of us. It is about deciding what is worth noticing.

These six photographs are very different, but each represents something about why I pick up a camera.

Black and white photograph of sunlight casting repeating shadows through a stone balustrade.

Seeing the light

Sometimes the subject itself isn't what makes me take a photograph. This was simply a stone balustrade, something that could easily have been walked past without a second glance.

What stopped me was the light. The repeating shapes of the stone were being echoed by the shadows stretching across the path, creating a pattern that seemed to continue through the photograph.

I wasn't really photographing a balustrade. I was photographing what the light was doing to it.

That, for me, is one of the pleasures of photography. An ordinary subject can become something completely different simply because of the light, the angle or the moment in which we happen to see it.

Creating the moment

With some photographs I react to what I find. With a portrait, I have the opportunity to create much more of what appears in front of the camera.

Here, the lighting, pose and colour all became part of the photograph. The blue of the dress and rose immediately demanded attention, while the light shaped the face and created the shadow behind.

This is also an example of why I don't believe every photograph should be black and white. I love monochrome, but sometimes colour is part of the story. Take the blue away from this image and I think something important disappears with it.

Portrait photography gives me a different kind of satisfaction. Instead of waiting for a moment to appear, I can help create it.

Colour portrait of a woman in a blue dress holding blue and white roses, photographed with directional light.

wo red kites silhouetted against a cloudy sky as they cross in flight.

Waiting for the moment

Wildlife photography is very different. I can choose where to stand, which lens to use and how to set the camera, but after that nature has its own ideas.

With these red kites, it was the relationship between the two birds that caught my attention. For a brief moment their shapes seemed to mirror one another as they crossed the sky.

There was no opportunity to arrange the composition or ask them to do it again. I simply had to recognise what was happening and react.

That's another reason I enjoy photography. Some photographs are created. Others are simply discovered in a fraction of a second.

Slowing things down

Not every photograph is about reacting quickly. Sometimes photography makes me do exactly the opposite — stop, slow down and spend time looking at what is in front of me.

With moving water, I am interested in more than simply recording a waterfall. I want to show the movement of the water against the solidity of the rocks, and the textures, colours and small details surrounding it.

This is also where colour earns its place. The greens of the moss and ferns, the wet brown rock and the white of the falling water are all part of how I remember the scene.

Photography can be about capturing a fraction of a second, as with the red kites. But it can also make me stand still for a while and really look.

Waterfall flowing over wet rocks surrounded by green moss and ferns.

Black and white action photograph of a rugby player carrying the ball during a match.

Anticipating the moment

Sport brings another challenge. Everything happens quickly and there is rarely time to think once the action is unfolding.

The camera settings matter, of course, but so does anticipating what might happen next. Watching the player, following the movement and being ready for that fraction of a second when everything comes together.

What I particularly like about photographing sport is that the camera can isolate a moment that our eyes barely have time to register. Here, the player is separated from everything around him, caught between one movement and the next.

Photography gives that fleeting moment somewhere to remain.

Photographing what remains

Some subjects make me stop for a very different reason. Old buildings, ruins and the remains of industry aren't simply structures to me. They are evidence of the people who were here before us.

These old Cornish mine workings are part of a landscape shaped by generations of hard work. The industry has largely disappeared, but its scars and structures remain, slowly becoming part of the landscape itself.

Perhaps that is why I am increasingly drawn to photographing our heritage. A photograph cannot preserve the building itself, but it can preserve something of how it looked and felt at a particular moment in time.

For me, these places aren't just about the past. They are about what the past has left behind.

Black and white photograph of historic Cornish mine workings and ruined engine houses on the coast.

Why I take photographs

Looking back at these six images, the subjects couldn't be much more different. A portrait, wildlife, moving water, sport, architecture and industrial heritage.

But perhaps the subject was never really the point.

Sometimes I create the moment. Sometimes I wait for it. Sometimes it lasts only a fraction of a second, and sometimes it has been waiting there for generations. What connects them is that something makes me stop, look and raise the camera.

Photography is my way of saying: I saw this.

Why I Take Photographs: It isn't always about the subject.