Lady Luck

Kevin Markham heads north in search of light.

This is not a ramble about photography – I do have a point.

It was November 25th, a Tuesday, and I was standing on one of Royal County Down’s tallest dunes, around which swirl the ‘new’ Annesley Links holes (9, 10 and 11), added in 2014.

This is a favourite spot for photographers as it looks down on the 3rd green of the Championship course, and the entirety of the opening three holes stretching into the distance. The unmistakable profile of the Slieve Donard Hotel is magnified by the looming kaleidoscope of colour that is the Mourne Mountains, propping up the sky beyond. The Irish Sea, the sweeping beach, the sunrise… what a time to be alive.

I had no right to be so lucky. The sun was spilling its rays across the dunes, fingers of light seeking out the golden grasses, white flags and lush greens, while the shadows hid in bunkers and behind dunes.

The course was closed to visitors. The clubhouse was closed to all. It is undergoing a £2 million refurbishment which will see the visitor facilities receive a massive facelift. And yet here I was, on that dune top, my finger waiting to take the perfect shot, lucky as can be.

I was last here in 2019, catching up with Nick Edmund (GlobalGolf4Cancer) who was walking the Ards Peninsula and finishing yet another huge adventure on RCD’s 4th hole. I took photographs from that same dune-top only to find when I got home that I had taken them at my camera’s lowest-resolution setting. I was gutted. They’d still work for a 24 x 16-inch print but that wasn’t the point: I’d messed up. I wanted payback.

My return, six years later, wasn’t actually supposed to be that payback – who expects perfect shooting conditions in November! – it was supposed to be two days away with family, booked last-minute and totally on a whim. I wasn’t expecting to get lucky, but the weather forecast indicated a fine morning of light, and I just happened to have all my kit with me, not to mention the inclination to drive for 20 minutes, an hour before sunrise.

That’s why I was where I was on the Tuesday morning, up a dune, facing the mountains. That’s why I got this shot – and several others – when I never dreamed that I’d be getting my camera out of the bag.

So far, so good.

But here’s the luckiest part. I wasn’t even supposed to be there on that Tuesday morning. I thought I’d booked the cottage for Monday and Tuesday night, but I’d actually booked the Tuesday and Wednesday nights. It was only when we arrived at the cottage on Monday afternoon that we discovered we were a day early. And, luckily for us, the cottage just happened to be free that night and the owner was happy to accommodate us.

Wednesday, the full day we were supposed to be there, was a day of relentless rain.

Those photographs were a gift from Lady Luck.

What’s my point? you ask.

It’s this: when you finish playing a round of golf – or lie in bed that night – you probably go through your score card reflecting on the missed opportunities of your game. A simple three-footer slid by the hole, a tree got in the way, a bunker you normally don’t reach from the tee swallowed your drive, that bad bounce should never have happened. We’ve all been there, but we tend to dwell on the bad luck and the 34 points that could have been, maybe even should have been, 38… when instead we should consider the 20-foot putt that dropped, the perfect, floating bunker shot, the tree branch that deflected your ball back into play. Those shots ensured your 34-point return wasn’t a 31.

Focus on the positives. It makes golf – and photography – so much more enjoyable.