Pre-wedding: Dave & Ayako, University Parks, Oxford

Wedding season is coming up! I'm only doing three officially this year, but I've managed to squeeze two pre-wedding shoots and a friend's wedding into the last two weekends.

It would have been rude not to share.

These two met in Oxford, so we thought it would be nice to revisit a few of their old haunts during the pre-wedding shoot. I was jokingly talking about this other shoot I did when I got the bride-to-be to climb into a tree... and they got very excited, and asked if they could please have a photo in a tree! It turned out to be the cutest of the lot.

I'm sure you'll see a few more weddings ones from me before the summer is out,

Franglais

If you're into sustainable fashion at all, I've started a blog all about that (and completely unrelated to either weddings or photography...)

Joy (a wedding photograph)

A photo can be technically perfect - sharp and perfectly lit.

But sometimes a photo can do much more than that: it can capture an emotion, the joy of a moment, which would otherwise have flown away with the moment itself. And sometimes that joy is best captured in a blur of movement, an uncontrolled laugh.

In my day job I help companies to become more sustainable. I love the work I do. But sharing in the joy of a wedding - the first moments a couple have as husband and wife - is something I'm loath to let go of.

The blur of a laugh, the sparkle of a very new wedding band: a moment of joy.

(This particular moment of joy is from David & Hester's wedding in Merton College Chapel, Oxford.)

Bedtime reading

Occasionally, I'll stop for a split second and suddenly realise the beauty of what I'm looking at.

Terry Pratchett describes it beautifully: "Open your eyes, and then open your eyes again." What you see the second time is what is really there.

It's like taking a mental step back from what you're doing to just admire the beauty of what is happening. Occasionally, such a thing can be caught on camera. The part of me that catches those moments is what I nickname my photographer's eye.

This is my bedtime reading a few days ago, seen through my photographer's eye. This wasn't set up or posed - just a moment of my life, captured.

Port Meadow at dusk

Oxford is the first new place I ever called home. I could talk for hours about what I love in this city; a place of learning, of love, of beauty.

Now that I'm back, I would rather show you one of its gems. Just 10 minutes from the city centre, this is Port Meadow.

When my dad was a student here - almost 40 years ago - the river burst its banks as it so often does, and covered Port Meadow. It then froze, and he and his friends went ice skating.

During my final term of university, I would escape here with friends. We would read Kant, write poetry, and go swimming, daring each other to approach the cows cooling off in the river.

My new home is much closer to the meadow than I ever was as a student. We may be in a flooding area, but the walks along the canal will make it worth it (although perhaps you can ask me again when my bed is surrounded by mud).

New homes offer a world of new opportunities. This one is already full of home comforts.

Franglais