There’s a quote I’ve carried with me for years:
“A photograph is taken twice — once in the camera, and again in the mind of the photographer.”
Some people think photography is simply about pointing the camera at a subject and pressing the shutter. They see a pier, a sunset, or a boat, and think the work is done the moment you click. But to me, photography is about so much more. It’s about finding something in the ordinary that others might overlook, seeing potential where others see nothing, and then shaping that vision — through the lens and later in the edit — into something that moves people.
This belief was put to the test one blustery afternoon at Hamworthy Pier, Dorset, England.
The Challenge
A good friend of mine knows I thrive on creative challenges. On this day, they decided to push me outside my comfort zone with a simple but intriguing dare:
“You should go to Hamworthy Pier. Your challenge is to come back with at least one photo you’re proud of. No restrictions on editing. You can interpret it however you like.”
One shot. That was all they asked for.
It sounds easy, doesn’t it? But here’s the thing: Hamworthy Pier is not your stereotypical “picture-perfect” location. It’s not a postcard-ready view where you can aim your camera anywhere and get something spectacular.
That’s exactly why I loved the idea.
First Impressions: More Than Meets the Eye
When I arrived about three hours before sunset, the time of day when the light is beginning to soften, but still has that late-afternoon crispness. The air was cool with a salty tang from the harbour, the wind lifting small ripples across the water.
At first glance, the pier itself looked unassuming. A functional structure, weathered by time and the elements, stretching out into Poole Harbour. Some fishing rods leaned lazily over the railings. Gulls wheeled above. Boats bobbed far out in the distance.
Nothing screamed “masterpiece.”
But here’s where the real work of a photographer begins — the reconnaissance.
The Recon Walk
I’m a firm believer that before you even think about setting up your camera, you need to understand your environment. For me, that means walking the location, studying the angles, testing the light, and mentally mapping where opportunities might be hiding.
I walked slowly along the pier and shoreline. I made mental notes:
The way the sun was hitting the water from the west
The pattern of the old wooden planks underfoot
The curve of the coastline in the distance
The reflections in small tidal pools forming along the sand
I started quietly building a shortlist of compositions. I didn’t call them right away. I wanted to see how the light shifted and whether they’d truly hold up.
After about half an hour, I called my friend and said:
“I think I’ve found four possibles.”
They sounded surprised. To them, the scene still felt flat, uninspiring. I continued to explore.
Compositional Hunting
Finding a composition is like solving a puzzle. You have to work with what’s in front of you, but you’re also free to bend the rules, shifting perspective, experimenting with focal lengths, imagining how post-processing might transform the scene.
Here’s what I was looking for that day:
Leading lines — the pier’s structure naturally drew the eye out toward the horizon.
Texture and detail — weathered wood, rippling water, distant masts.
Contrast in elements — man-made meets nature, light meets shadow.
Story potential — a frame that suggests something more than just “a pier.”
What to remove — Not everything needed to be in the shot. “Less is more”
Working with Light — Need to understand the light and how it moves “light rules”
I tested different focal lengths, crouched low to exaggerate lines, even leaned over the edge to capture water reflections. The camera was working, yes, but my mind was working harder.
By the time we were ready to wrap up, I had settled on three compositions I felt truly confident in. The fourth? It didn’t hold up as the light shifted. That’s the nature of the hunt, you start with more than you need, knowing you’ll narrow it down later.
The Surprising Conversation
On a call when walking back to the car, my friend admitted something.
“I have to be honest. I couldn’t find a single composition I liked. I just didn’t see it.”
I laughed.
“That’s the difference. I had four possibles… and now I’ve got three good ones.”
They said “I’m puzzled.
“How? I mean, we were at the same place different dates but same conditions. We saw the same things.”
And that’s when I explained the part that’s harder to teach — the difference between seeing and seeing in what you see.
Seeing Beyond the Surface
Photography isn’t about recording reality exactly as it is. It’s about interpreting it. It’s about combining technical skill, personal style, and post-processing craftsmanship to produce an image that matches the way you felt in that moment, not just what your eyes registered.
When I look at a location, I don’t just see what’s physically there. I imagine what it could become in the final image. The pier isn’t just a structure; it’s a leading line into the unknown. The water isn’t just ripples; it’s texture that can be emphasised for mood or even removed to hight-light simplicity. The clouds aren’t just background; they’re drama waiting to be teased out.
And editing? That’s the second half of the process. Just as a painter chooses their colours and brush strokes, a photographer uses editing tools to emphasise emotion, guide the viewer’s attention, and bring their personal interpretation to life.
Editing: Where Vision Meets Reality
Back in my studio, I loaded the shots into my editing software. This is where the magic happens for me, where the raw capture starts its transformation into a finished piece of art.
For each image, I asked myself:
What mood did I feel in the moment?
Which elements of the scene carried the emotional weight?
What do I want the viewer to notice first?
Using careful adjustments, contrast, colour grading, shadow recovery, and selective sharpening, I worked to highlight the narrative I had seen in each frame. Sometimes that meant deepening the blues to removing the texture from the water. Sometimes it meant softening highlights to keep the mood gentle. Other times, it was about creating a subtle line to draw the eye toward a focal point.
When I was done, I had three finished images that I felt captured not just the scene, but the experience.
The Reveal
When I showed my friend the results, their eyes widened.
“I didn’t see these compositions at all. They weren’t there!”
That’s when I smiled and said,
“They were there. You just didn’t see in what you saw.”
And that’s the point. The scene hadn’t changed. What changed was the interpretation, the way I combined fieldwork, composition skills, and editing vision to reveal what was already there, hidden in plain sight.
Why This Matters to You as a Viewer (or Client)
You might wonder, why tell this story at all?
Because it’s the perfect example of what I aim to bring to every project, whether I’m photographing a landscape, an event, a portrait, or a commissioned piece for a client:
Creative vision — seeing possibilities others overlook.
Technical expertise — using the right tools and techniques to capture those possibilities.
Post-production mastery — shaping the final image into a piece of art that resonates.
It’s not about “taking” a picture. It’s about making one.
When you hire a photographer, you’re not just paying for someone to operate a camera. You’re investing in their ability to see what others can’t, to turn a location, moment, or subject into something unique, personal, and memorable.
The Three Shots
Here are the three final images from Hamworthy Pier — each one the product of observation, patience, and creative interpretation.
Sailing friends: Two boats next to each other at mid-day pointing towards the sun
I saw two boats that would complement each other. Only saw this after 15 min when they moved because of the current flow of the water. Had to wait another two hours before it happened again to what I wanted. Removed all other sailing boats. Then blended sky and sea. Created leading lines with shadows of the sailing boats to entice the eyes to the boats as the focal point.Three Sailing Friends: The sailing boats pointing towards the sun at golden hour.
Saw three boats pointing towards the sun, with the sun slightly on the left. Removed other boats and then blended the sky and sea. Created leading lines with shadows of the sailing boats to entice the eyes to the boats as the focal point.Stand Still: Mooring in the sea in the direction of the sun with sunbeam
Dark shadow of a mooring standing still and strong. Ready for a boat to moor onto. Was in the path of the sun ray. Merged with a long exposure and blended the sky with the sea. No leading lines needed. Mooring is a singular black shadow in the middle of the image.
Lessons for Photographers and Creatives
Whether you’re a fellow photographer, a hobbyist, or someone who simply loves art, here are a few takeaways from that day at Hamworthy Pier:
Look longer. The first glance rarely reveals the best shot.
Walk the space. Explore angles, perspectives, and lighting before committing.
Imagine the edit. Think ahead to how you might process the image later.
Trust your instincts. If a scene feels right, it probably is.
Don’t fear the ordinary. Sometimes the most unassuming locations produce the most personal work.
Final Thoughts
That afternoon at Hamworthy Pier reminded me why I fell in love with photography in the first place. It’s not about finding the “perfect” scene, it’s about finding your scene, and having the skills to bring it to life.
The world is full of moments and places that most people pass by without noticing. But if you train your eye, and your imagination, you’ll find stories everywhere.
It’s not just what you see.
It’s what you see in what you see.
And if you let me, if you find this interesting.
Three Sailing Friends
