As I got off the bus, I followed the National Trust signs from the Bembridge Windmill; I strolled up Mill Road.
The Windmill keeps its identity a secret.
I walked up the unmade bridle path, and then the Bembridge Windmill came into full view, with the rolling countryside leading the eye to Culver Down in the far distance.

I love the photographic opportunities at Bembridge Windmill. I feel comfortable being within its fenced boundary.
The contrast between the sandy coloured stone against the blue sky.
The Bembridge Windmill sits quietly in the countryside, overlooking the beautiful landscape around it. As the landscape has grown and changed, the windmill has stood watch, silently seeing the changes take place. The weather the Windmill has experienced and seen is etched into its stone walls.
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From a photographic point of view, I love the strong textured detail the windmill has to offer, from the door that has opened to many a worker and now to visitors.
I have always had a fascination with doors and windows, taking photos of them, visualising them opening and letting one’s imagination create the story that lies behind them.

Here at Seashorepics, I have always had an interest in the weather. As I have moved into and developed my photography skills, the impact the weather can have on the final shot is massive.

The black-and-white images I captured, lying low behind the picket fence, remind me of the scene from the 1931 Frankenstein film.
To read more about Bembridge Windmill, visit: National Trust: Bembridge Windmill

