For a long time, I thought the next step in improving my photography would come from new gear or travelling further afield. But over time, I learned that neither made the difference I was looking for. What truly changed my work was something much simpler — having a local place that I could visit regularly to practise.

For me, that place is Rocky Bay, on the coast of Cork. It’s about as honest a name as you’ll find. The beach lives up to its title with scattered rocks and ever-changing sand levels that make it feel different on almost every visit. One day, the sand stretches flat across the bay; the next, the tide has carved deep channels and exposed new shapes. Those small changes are what make it such a valuable place to practise.

Understanding a place through repetition

When you photograph a new location, most of your energy goes into figuring it out — where to stand, how the light moves, and what compositions are worth exploring. You might get a decent image, but you leave with questions about what it might look like under different conditions.

With Rocky Bay, I’ve had the opportunity to answer those questions through repetition. Visiting often means I already know where the light breaks across the rocks at sunrise, how reflections form in the wet sand as the tide retreats, and which parts of the beach flood fastest when the tide comes back in.

That level of familiarity gives you freedom. Instead of wasting time searching for compositions, you can focus on refining technique — the subtleties of shutter speed, depth of field, or timing your exposures as waves break around foreground rocks. Over time, you stop reacting and start anticipating.

Practising with intent

Returning to the same place repeatedly isn’t about convenience; it’s about deliberate practice.

Each visit to Rocky Bay becomes a small exercise. Some days, I’ll focus on slow shutter speeds to capture motion in the water. Other days, I’ll work on handheld shooting or bracket exposures to handle strong contrast. Because I already know the layout of the beach, I can isolate one skill and improve it without distractions.

The controlled environment helps. You know roughly what to expect, so you can measure progress over time. It’s a form of repetition that builds muscle memory — not just technically, but visually. The more time you spend studying a familiar place, the more you start to see subtle patterns in light, colour, and form.

Learning to see differently

Rocky Bay has taught me that the same place never looks the same twice. The combination of changing tide levels, light direction, and weather means there’s always something new to work with.

After a storm, large stones are often pushed up the beach, creating new shapes in the sand. On still days, the wet sand becomes mirror-smooth, reflecting any colour in the sky. Some mornings, a thin mist softens the horizon; other times, strong side light highlights the texture of the rocks.

These variations train you to notice change — even when it’s subtle. It’s a valuable skill in landscape photography because it shifts your attention from the obvious to the nuanced. You stop waiting for the perfect light and start recognising opportunities in whatever conditions you have.

That shift in perception makes you more adaptable. You learn that there’s always a photograph to be made; it’s just a matter of how you choose to see it.

Building a relationship with the location

Shooting close to home builds more than skill — it builds connection.

Over time, you begin to understand how a place behaves and how it reacts to the environment around it. You start noticing when the seaweed changes colour, when the first frost appears, or when the sand levels rise after a calm spell. That awareness deepens your appreciation for the landscape.

At Rocky Bay, I’ve come to recognise patterns that repeat year after year — the early morning dog walkers, the fishermen who appear only on certain tides, and the distinct sound the waves make when they hit exposed rock. Those details stay with you, and they find their way into how you photograph.

You start capturing the character of a place, not just its appearance.

Testing ideas and equipment

A local spot is also ideal for experimenting.

When I’m testing new filters, camera bodies, or lenses, I head to Rocky Bay. It’s close enough that if something doesn’t go to plan, it’s not a wasted trip. I can focus entirely on how the gear performs rather than trying to find compositions.

It’s also a useful way to trial new techniques. Long exposure work, focus stacking, or panoramic stitching all come with variables that are easier to test in a familiar environment. The location becomes a practical workspace — somewhere you can make mistakes, analyse results, and improve.

That process pays off later when you travel or work in more demanding conditions. You already know what to expect from your tools and how to get the results you want.

Building a consistent body of work

Another advantage of returning to one location often is that it allows you to build a cohesive set of images.

At Rocky Bay, I’ve gathered a small series over the years that captures it under every possible condition — misty mornings, bright winter light, and calm evenings when the sea barely moves. Seen together, they tell the story of a place that’s constantly shifting yet always familiar.

This kind of ongoing project helps strengthen your portfolio. It gives your work context and continuity rather than a random mix of single images. It also gives purpose to your photography on days when you might not feel inspired to travel.

Having that purpose — to document, learn, and refine — is what keeps you progressing.

How to find your own local spot

The process doesn’t need to be complicated. Look for somewhere close to home that you can reach easily before or after work, or on a quiet weekend morning. It could be a small beach, woodland, riverbank, or park. What matters is accessibility and the ability to visit often.

When you find a spot that feels manageable, commit to it. Visit in different weather, at various times of day, and across seasons. You’ll be surprised by how much variety you can find in one small area when you start paying attention.

If it seems too ordinary at first, that’s a good sign. Photographing a modest location teaches you to look harder and compose with intention — both of which will serve you well in any environment.

Finally

Having a location close to home like Rocky Bay has improved my photography more than any piece of equipment I’ve ever owned. It’s given me a reliable place to practise, experiment, and stay consistent.

By revisiting it, I’ve developed a better understanding of light, composition, and timing. I’ve also learned that progress in photography doesn’t always come from grand adventures — sometimes it comes from simply showing up, again and again, in a familiar place and paying closer attention each time.

If you want to improve your photography, find your own version of Rocky Bay. A place nearby that you can reach easily, explore regularly, and learn from constantly.

It’s a simple habit, but one that might make more difference to your growth than any new gear ever could.

I recorded this video early this morning and wanted to get it out to you the very same day. It’s a simple reflection on a habit that’s improved my photography more than any new gear ever has.

So often we get caught up in equipment — the latest cameras, lenses, and filters — but the biggest difference in my work has come from something much simpler: consistency. Getting out regularly, even when the conditions aren’t perfect, and using those moments to learn and refine your craft.

In this video, I share how making time for short, frequent outings has shaped my approach to photography and creativity as a whole.

Have you a Local Spot? Let me know in the comments below