78 DEGREES NORTH

The image is made complete by its own lack of completeness – the storytelling is started by the camera and finished by the viewer.

The irony was that it was the very last of a sequence of 60 images I took of the polar bear. A second after this moment, this most solitary of predators was over the horizon and our paths will never cross again. I did not press the trigger with this image in mind – it was such an intense 15 minutes that it would be most disingenuous to suggest that it was preconceived. The heart was beating too fast to consider creating art – these moments sometimes just happen.

I am only too aware that after the success in the Sotheby’s auction in New York, there will be a bit of added interest in lot 72 and will probably come under the hammer around 430 UK time. It is slightly unnerving that my prices are now very much being watched – it’s only taken 36 years.

This is a big picture, but quite clearly an extremely lucky one. It is said that luck is the residue of design, but on this occasion, I think it would be disingenuous to suggest that we can attribute the capture of a flying horse to a preconceived plan.

There is a spit of sand that only appears on Bantham beach near low tide and, with a long lens, the waves can be quite pronounced behind the sand. When I scouted the site, I noted the potential of the canvas in front of me, but realised timing would be critical.

Given sunrise and low tide were just after 6 am, this meant for an extremely early start and a cold one too. The only angle that would work for me, was to be lying in the shallow sea water in front of the spit. The higher my body, the poorer the angle, so getting wet was unavoidable. The temperature, with the northerly wind, was only about three degrees above freezing.