As a director of BBC Natural History films, I spend a lot of time flying around the world, and it isn't long before I've exhausted all of the onboard movies. To keep myself occupied I've taken to aerial photography. All of these images were taken through the windows on commercial flights. It's all down to a bit of planning and a lot of luck.
Somewhere over British Columbia
Before I arrive at the airport I think carefully about choosing my seat. I check out the path that the flight might take, consider which side will give me the best view, what time of day and where the sun will be, and most importantly make sure that I am as far away from the wing as possible - my favourite seat is a couple of rows from the back.
Onboard, I wear dark clothes to limit my own reflection, clean the window with a damp cloth and then try to get a good angle through the cleanest spot - which often involves half standing and squashing my head to the glass. I'm very selective about what and when I photograph, and other than that it's mostly down to luck, weather and post production.
I use Adobe Lightroom. There's always a blue haze but I remove much of that by increasing the blacks and contrast, and increasing clarity, sometimes to 100%. I decrease saturation on the blues and warm up the temperature. Usually I need a grad to darken the top of frame, the point furthest from me, as this is where the haze is most apparent. I've found that actual camera filters just don't work for this sort of shoot and so I use a digital grad and fix it in post. I also tend to sharpen the images by up to 40%. Finally, I clone out any marks resulting from shooting through a dirty window.
Somewhere over New Mexico
Somewhere over Java
Somewhere over The Alps
Landing back in Britain
Australia from the air
My favourite continent to fly over is Australia. The sky is usually cloudless offering a clear view, it's often sunny and it's always spectacular. It's like flying over the surface of Mars and I find myself captivated by the vivid expressions of the underlying geology. Patterns of red and orange, dry lake beds and giant sand dunes. Australia is one of the oldest and most stable continental landmasses, the mountains have been worn down, much of the soil has been blow away, and with little vegetation able to survive in the arid red centre it reads like a living geological map. The folds and layers of the ancient sediments stretch out on one enormous flat canvas, dissected by ribbon-like rivers such as the Murchison, the countries second longest. You can fly for hours without seeing any sign of human life, but then slowly the landscape evolves.
From Mars to the Modern World
I recently flew from Alice Springs to Perth and as the red desert waned, the vast angular blocks of the wheat belt came into view, like a yellow chequer board stretching to the horizon. It covers 155,000 square kilometres, larger than the whole of England and only where ancient lakes are found does the land remain untamed. Scattered across this patchwork of monoculture are thousands of abandoned old quarries, like painpots, some blood red, others yolk yellow. As Perth drew closer the fields became smaller and houses started to appear, clustering closer and closer until I reached the modern world, the towering metropolis of downtown Perth on the banks of the Swan River.
'Desert Seed'. Dry for most of the year, it only takes a small amount of rain for these salt lakes to fill and become a magnet for life.
Uluru, at the geographical and spiritual heart of Australia. A rare monolith in an otherwise flat landscape.
Patterns of red and orange, dry lake beds and giant sand dunes. Australia is one of the oldest and most stable continental landmasses, the mountains have been worn down, much of the soil has been blow away, and with little vegetation able to survive in the arid red centre it reads like a living geological map.
The giant parallel dunes of the Simpson desert - aligned with the path of the winds
'Desert Veins' - a dried river tributary resembles the veins on a leaf
The folds and layers of the ancient sediments stretch out on one enormous flat canvas, dissected by ribbon-like rivers such as the Murchison, the countries second longest.
The wheat belt, like a yellow chequer board stretching to the horizon, covers 155,000 square kilometres.
'Earth's Footprint'. Only only where ancient lakes are found does vast area known as the wheat belt remain untamed.
'Desert Egg'. Scattered across this patchwork of monoculture are thousands of abandoned quarries, like paint-pots, some blood red, others yolk yellow.
Perth drew nearer the fields became smaller and houses started to appear, clustering closer and closer.
The modern world, the towering metropolis of downtown Perth on the banks of the Swan River.