From the comfort of my 9-5 salary, the life of a professional landscape photographer looks rather enviable. Doing every day what I spend all week looking forward to doing for a couple of hours on a Sunday - getting up at dawn and getting out in the countryside, listening to the birds singing while waiting for the perfect light. Then going off for a hearty breakfast, bit of processing, sell a few prints, book a trip somewhere exotic then back out for sunset. 

Ok so it's probably not anything like that and the added pressure must take at least a bit of the fun out of the photography but one thing pros have that us amateurs don't (apart from talent that is) is time. They obviously have days when the weather doesn't play ball but then there's always tomorrow.

Last weekend was yet another grey dismal failed outing with the camera which means having to wait a whole week for the next trip... and as expected it has been a week of driving to work through a landscape liberally sprinkled with glittery frost, watching the sun turn the clouds pink as it's warm light creeps across the countryside. Of course when you only go out with the camera once a week, the law of averages means you're not always going to get the best conditions but it's been so lopsided lately that I'm starting to take it personally... I'm beginning to think that there is a higher power somewhere trying to tell me something! 

Maybe I'm getting paranoid and admittedly I did manage to get this consolation shot of today's hoar frost before it vanished but I'm beginning to fear that if I ever did make the leap to becoming a full time landscape photographer we might never see the sun again.