I was out playing with Ilford HP5 Plus again, this time down at Bigbury-on-Sea in Devon.
It wasn’t meant to be a shoot, not really. Just a walk with the dogs, maybe a coffee, camera along out of habit more than intention. One of those days where photography just tags along rather than leads.
But even on days like that, something usually catches.
This time it was the rocks.
Not in any dramatic sense — no crashing waves, no storm light, nothing particularly rare. Just the shapes. Clusters of them, rising out of the sand as the tide had pulled back, leaving shallow pools and soft reflections. There was a stillness to it. Even though the beach was fairly busy, it didn’t feel that way. Bigbury at low tide has that ability… you can step away from it all without really going anywhere.
And that’s what I found myself photographing.
The light wasn’t doing anything special.
Late morning, clear sky, a bit too honest if anything. No shadows stretching, no contrast fighting for attention. The kind of light that shows everything exactly as it is — which is fine, but it doesn’t give you much to work with if you’re chasing something more dramatic.
And I think, without realising it, I was.
In my head, the images had more weight to them. More presence. Something slightly more cinematic than what was actually in front of me. But the conditions were never going to give that. They were calm, flat, and simple.
And the photographs reflect that.
Looking back through the roll, most of the frames feel like grab shots.
Not bad… just… there.
The kind of images that, if I’m being honest, could have been taken on a phone and wouldn’t feel much different. That’s probably the part that sticks the most. Not that they’re failures, but that they don’t feel intentional. Like I saw something, reacted, but didn’t quite commit to it.
There are a few I still like though.
The shot of Burgh Island, with the hotel sat quietly in the distance — that one works for me. It gives context. A sense of place. It anchors everything else.
And the rock studies… they do what I hoped in a way. They show that even on a crowded beach, there’s space to find your own compositions. Your own little pockets of quiet.
But even those… they don’t quite reach what I thought they would.
I think the truth is, I expected too much from what the day actually was.
It wasn’t a dramatic day. It wasn’t a planned shoot. It was a walk. And somewhere along the way, I started asking more of it than it was ever going to give.
That’s not on the film.
Ilford HP5 Plus is still exactly what I expect it to be — reliable, forgiving, and honest. If anything, it probably rendered the scene exactly as it was. Which might be the problem.
Because sometimes you don’t want honesty.
Sometimes you want interpretation.
That’s where I keep coming back to the idea of trying other stocks.
Not because I’m bored of HP5 — far from it. But because different films see differently. Some lean into contrast, others into colour, others into something a bit less literal. And maybe on a day like this, something else might have nudged the images a little further away from what was simply there.
Or maybe not.
Maybe the real issue wasn’t the film, or the light, or even the compositions.
Maybe it was just expectation.
There’s something in that, I think.
The idea that not every outing needs to produce something meaningful. That sometimes you go out, take a few frames, and they don’t quite land — and that’s fine. It doesn’t undo the walk, or the quiet, or the space you found between other people on a busy beach.
It just means… it was a day, not a moment.