A Wintery Morning on Goatfell
Black & White Moments from Arran’s Highest Peak
There’s something quietly powerful about Arran in winter. The island sheds its summer softness and takes on a more dramatic, elemental presence — and nowhere is that more palpable than on Goatfell.
Setting off in the half-light of early morning, the frost still unbroken on the ground, I climbed slowly into the silence. Seth trotted just ahead, nose down, occasionally glancing back to check I was still following. The wind was low, the air sharp with cold, and the world seemed drained of colour — even before I decided to shoot entirely in black and white.
A light to moderate covering of snow lay across the landscape — just enough to soften the granite edges while still revealing the rugged character of the mountain beneath. On the higher slopes, it deepened slightly in the hollows and gullies, catching the soft winter light and adding texture to the scene.
Sometimes a place doesn’t ask for colour. It asks for shape and contrast, mood and texture. That morning was one of those times. The bare ridges of Goatfell, veiled in drifting cloud and dusted with snow, had a stark, sculptural quality that only black and white could truly honour. Every footstep crunched crisply beneath my boots; every breath hung visibly in the air.
As I reached the upper slopes, the landscape opened into sweeping views of Arran’s granite spine — rugged, weathered, and magnificent. The light was soft and low, gently catching the snow-covered rocks and emphasising every jagged edge. In monochrome, these moments felt timeless. Not of this season, or even this century — just mountain and sky and stillness.
I took my time. Not chasing the sunrise, just moving with the landscape, waiting for the right moments — a drifting cloud parting briefly, a shaft of light striking the summit, a bird silhouetted mid-flight. These photographs are as much about atmosphere as they are about place.
Goatfell in winter is a different mountain — not just visually, but emotionally. It feels wilder, older, and somehow more real. It was a cold climb, but a quietly unforgettable one.
