Rediscovering the view from my doorstep: A Eurasian Collared-Dove (Streptopelia decaocto) perched on a pine branch just meters from my back door. This is very much a "record shot," but the 365 project is doing exactly what I hoped: opening my eyes to the incredible variety of birdlife in my immediate surroundings. Not every day produces a masterpiece, and this frame is a reminder that managing expectations is part of the process. While the highlights in the canopy are a bit blown and the framing is tight, capturing the sharp detail in the eye and the rugged texture of the bark is enough to mark the day.

A Great Cormorant in transitional plumage: A Great Cormorant (Phalacrocorax carbo) finds a perfect, skeletal perch just above the water's surface. In the soft, warm light of the late afternoon, the bird’s breeding plumage—marked by the distinct white feathers around the head and neck—stands out against the deep, dark tones of its wings. I love the quiet symmetry created by its reflection in the mirror-like water, which bridges the gap between the organic, tangled lines of the submerged branches and the soft, high-key wash of the background reeds. It’s a study in stillness and patience, capturing that brief moment of rest before the evening hunt begins.

The silent watchman of the breakwater: The low-angled sun transforms the sea into a shimmering pathway, cutting through the shadows of a heavy, dramatic sky. The green-topped lighthouse at the entrance to the port provides a grounding, geometric silhouette against the vast, golden expanse. I love the contrast between the fluid, shimmering textures of the Mediterranean and the solid, unmoving presence of the stone wall reaching out into the deep.

Camouflage in the Garden: A Short-toed Treecreeper (Certhia brachydactyla) makes its way up a lichen-covered trunk in Valbonne. Having returned from the high-altitude slopes of Auron, it is wonderful to be back observing the subtle details of the local wildlife closer to home. These birds are master mimics of the bark they inhabit, and I particularly like this frame because of the way the subject is framed by the textured branches. It required a fair bit of patience to catch it in a clear gap between the foliage, as they are notoriously ‘fleety’ and quick to vanish around the back of the tree.

Gold in the Larch: I have been chasing a decent photograph of this European Goldfinch (Carduelis carduelis) all week, but they are notoriously small, fleet, and usually stay tucked deep within the canopy. As I spent the vast majority of my time snowboarding with my family and not primarily photographing, I only had fleeting windows to try and catch one in the open. Despite shooting up and not in a great pose, I particularly like this frame because of the way the larch branches naturally encircle the subject, providing a rustic, geometric window into its world. It was a rewarding way to cap off the week's observations in Auron.

The Morning Watch: A crisp, biting morning in Auron, catching the sun as it breaks over the ridge above the village chapel. I captured this on an iPhone 13 mini while out on the slopes. As I spent the vast majority of my time this week snowboarding with my family and not primarily photographing, the portability of the phone was essential for grabbing these fleeting moments of mountain light between descents. The sharp lens flare emphasises the sheer brilliance of the sun at this altitude.

The ‘Snow-Pod’ View of Auron: A long-exposure look at the village of Auron as it glows warmly against the massive, dark silhouettes of the Alps. As I spent the vast majority of my time this week snowboarding with my family and not primarily photographing, I didn’t have my tripod to hand. I had to stabilise the camera on a makeshift ‘snow-pod’—a pile of packed ice—to capture the village lights as they spilled out into the cold mountain night. It is a quiet study of human presence huddling against the vast, indifferent shadows of the peaks.

Relics of the Ridge: High above the Auron ski resort, the crumbled remains of a stone structure serve as a stark reminder of the mountain’s power over all things man-made. I was drawn to the rough, jagged edges of the ruins, which seem to be slowly returning to the earth, mimicking the rocky terrain around them. While I spent most of my time this week snowboarding with my family rather than photographing, these textures of decay caught my eye as a testament to the persistent, rugged nature of the Alps.

500mm Intimacy: Finding a subject the size of a finger from a distance. The 500mm focal length creates a beautiful compression, pulling the lizard out from the stone while melting the foreground and background into a high-key wash of light. Capturing this level of detail in such a small, skittish creature is a highlight of today's trek.

Suspended Silence: A study in geometry and altitude at Auron. These empty chairlifts, silhouetted against the thinning mountain air, create a striking pattern of lines and hooks. I love the contrast between the cold, engineered precision of the machinery and the jagged, organic chaos of the snowy peaks below. It captures that quiet, "after-hours" feeling when the mountain finally breathes.

The Mountain’s Hidden Residents: High above the Auron ski station, a small group of Chamois (Rupicapra rupicapra) navigates the snowy, vertical terrain. These agile mountain dwellers are masters of camouflage, blending perfectly into the rugged, rocky outcrops and sparse larch trees. It is a quiet reminder that even in a busy ski resort, nature is observing us from the heights.

Snowy Welcome: This is what you want to see when you arrive for a week of skiing! :)