I have a real thing for lighthouses. In my mind’s eye, they conjure up emotionally charged (and highly idealistic) images of times gone by; of galleons braving dangerous storms to discover new worlds, and the solitudinal lighthouse keepers whose job it was to keep them safe.
Effectively communicating this strong emotive narrative through photography is no mean feat; we live in different times. The four corners of the Earth are discovered, the beautifully hand-crafted galleons are replaced with functional steel ships, whilst warning passing ships of deadly rocks is now the business of automised timers and sophisticated navigation systems.
This photograph is not about the Hurst Lighthouse, the ruined pier nor even the aging castle; rather it’s a nostalgic lament for the passing of times which were more naive, romantic and adventurous than the automated, digital, clinically precise and shiny ones in which we find ourselves today.
Part of the Hengistbury Head, Mudeford and Barton collection.