There’s a special resonance to the twixmas period. It’s a luxurious and languid leftover from the madness of Christmas Day. If you’re lucky enough to get those few days off work it feels like the only time in the year when you can genuinely not feel guilty for simply just lazing around (I often find in summer holidays I feel the urge to be active and doing things). All those jobs you’ve been storing up can wait. All those resolutions you’ve promised yourself can be held back a few more days. All those leftover treats from the big day can be tidied up without

We have a tradition of going away for a few days in-between Christmas and New Year with my wife’s family. It’s a joy seeing our kids enjoy reconnecting with their cousins and us getting an opportunity to catch up with parents and siblings. This year we chose a hotel in Brighton and being at the seaside added an extra dimension to our usual twixmas escape. Brighton is a fascinating place – a heady mix of old and new, trendy and edgy, grandeur and decay, hedonism and holistic well-being.

The seafront and Palace Pier provide an inevitable focal point for street photography but also – if you are out with a camera at the right time – help frame some truly beautiful moments of solitude.

But the most surprising thing about being out with a camera in Brighton was finding myself transfixed by a murmuration of starlings moving in sequence together just off the pier in the late afternoon winter sunshine. And what was even more surprising was that I noticed hundreds of people stood on the side of the pier equally mesmerised by the beauty and majesty of what they were seeing.

There was a slightly surreal feel to the whole spectacle as the birds flew in perfect harmony in the fading daylight. As their shifting patterns swung towards the pier a strange sense of calm and silence descended on the spectators, so much so that you could just about hear the flutter of a thousand wings beating in unison. And in that moment some reassurance that despite our relentless technological advances and our screen addictions, there are still moments of pure natural beauty that can engender that sense of awe in us all.

[This post was previously posted on my substack]