A highlight reel, almost

Happy New Year, everyone

I’ve spent the past few days feeling like I should do some kind of end-of-year wrap-up. I’ve seen some great images, videos, and stories cropping up across my various social feeds. And it genuinely makes me happy that, despite the endless amount of manure circulating in cyberspace, art is still being made, wisdom is still being shared, and people are doing amazing things.

I sat down to try and pick my favourite images I made in 2025 and almost immediately got overwhelmed. I’ve put 89 rolls of film through various cameras this year and filled a 2TB hard drive with digital images. That’s probably less than most professional photographers, but I don’t have the self-belief — or attention span — to whittle that down into a highlight reel.

Which leads me to one of my bigger realisations this year: my self-esteem is pretty much nonexistent — something I’ll be working on going into 2026. I’m far too quick to pit my work against other people’s and feel like I’m competing for admiration (who smells childhood trauma?). So instead of trawling through hard drives and giving myself a panic attack, I thought I’d share a few images from a day back in November — a day that reminded me how fortunate I am to have had the year I’ve had, and the life I’m living.

It was the winter’s first dusting of snow in the Alps, and our friends Alan and Rosie were visiting from Dorset. The weather was unsettled, but we figured it was worth a gamble to head up towards the world-famous mountain lake of Oeschinensee, not far from where we live in Switzerland. Even if it’s cloudy, it’ll still be worth a little hike, we told ourselves. As we climbed, the clouds began to break and the mountains, freshly snow-covered, revealed themselves in the way only the Swiss Alps can.

There are always people at Oeschinensee, for good reason. It’s one of the most spectacular places in the world. But as we gained height and wandered out to a lesser-visited viewpoint, we left most of the tourists behind. We chatted. We picnicked. We threw snowballs at each other. For me, it was a pretty normal day.

And that’s where it hits me.

I’m often stunned by the beauty of the mountains, but I rarely stop to acknowledge how rare this life actually is. That I can reach places like this in under an hour from my front door. That my body allows me to move through them. That I get to be there with the love of my life. That I have community. That I feel like I belong in these places. This is a level of privilege most people in the world don’t have access to — and it’s precious. I don’t let that thought in very often.

Instead, my head is usually crowded with ideas about success, productivity, training, goals. It’s inward-looking, unhealthy, and, at times, pretty tone-deaf.

It’s New Year’s Eve as I write this. My bag is packed, ready to ski into a mountain hut tomorrow morning. I’m starting the year with plenty of thoughts circulating about what 2026 might bring. But, as I head into the mountains tomorrow, I’ll be trying to put my best foot forward. I’ll be reminding myself that I don’t need to get caught up in all the stuff that my mind loves to bog me down with. This year is about: moving slowly, staying present, and sharing as many moments as I can with people I love.

It’s a rare life I get to lead. I want to notice it more. And I want to hold it close.

Happy New Year.