The most exciting times in the Karoo are when the storms come in. The whole town quivers with excitement.

Water is a precious commodity here and rain (often promised by the meteorological gods, but rarely delivered) is cause for celebration.

Out here it comes out in dramatic style. Great, thundering bolts from the sky. Gorgeous, fat droplets.

We’ve been walking to different spots to watch the storms rage. The photo above came after a frustrating hour trying to capture lightning from the top of the koppie.

When we got home the storm went up a notch and raged closer and closer and so I camped on the olive grove outside the cottage with my camera and tried to time the beat of the thunder.

Eventually I caught it.

The black is the night sky, I haven’t edited it. It was jet black. The only light was the thunder when it lit up the gap in the clouds.

I’ve fallen in love with the Karoo sky

For the past 90 days, we’ve been living in Prince Albert, a small town nestled in the Great Karoo in South Africa.

I’ve become obsessed with the sky.

I love London, my home, but for the most part I’m gazing at clumpy grey clouds.

In the Karoo the sky is the most brilliant, vibrant, comforting blue.

A constant warm, life affirming sky hug.

At other times, a slideshow of fluffy clouds. Some evenings the sky is burning.

Every single day a new show.

The default here, especially during the summer months, is a highly saturated, brilliant blue.

A blue so massive and so enveloping it instantly soothes you.

In Northern Europe when there’s a rare day of bright blue sky everything – all of life’s stresses and panics and anxieties – seem to go on pause for a moment.

Out here the Karoo sky ratchets that up to ‘other worldly’ level.

There’s something different about the skies here.

You can have a completely cloudless day and then suddenly in the space of a few minutes, the landscape turns gold and red and strange shapes form over the horizon.

The place we’ve been staying has a TV next to the piano (I’m not sure why there’s a piano).

When we first arrived it was unplugged and facing the wall. We thought that maybe, at some point, we’d plug it in but it’s stayed in the corner.

Not because we’re enlightened, tele-haters but because watching the landscape here, specifically the sky, has been utterly addictive.

At home I wake up an hour or two before work (normally around 8ish). Out here I’m waking up at about 5:30am or 6:00am and sprinting to the window to see what the sky’s doing.

This isn’t me. At least it’s not London me.

The Karoo has grabbed me by the shoulders, given me a good shake, and shoved me into the environment.

The most absorbing, interesting thing imaginable is always right there.

Sunset and night-time, when we’d normally be part watching TV, part doomscrolling on our phones is my favourite.

When the moon is full here you can get the most incredible light show, even if it’s cloudy.

We have a space outside with a clear view and I’ve been able to play around with long exposures on my camera while the mozzies feast on my ankles.

It’s taken me a while to post this. I knew I wanted to do a photo series about the Karoo sky almost immediately.

But I quickly found myself with so many sky pictures the task felt overwhelming (how do I curate them, does the series make sense and so on).

I want to say I’m an organised photographer but I’m not. My catalogue looks like my teenage self’s messy bedroom.

Stuff strewn everywhere, half categorised. So this is my first go at sifting.

I’m going to try to set aside an hour or so every now and again to pick out a few sky shots, as I’ve done here and create the next parts of this series.

One of the really exciting things about photographing the Karoo is that everything is so ludicrously, beautifully fleeting and impermanent. Sometimes you have less than 5 or 10 seconds to get the shot.

In the summer months, in Prince Albert, there is a strong cooling wind that comes in. The locals call it the ‘air conditioner’.

It’s blissful. It also makes for the most amazing sky drama because the infinite blue can quickly give way to a thunderous storm.

At this point you might be treated to a pink, purple dusty sky that transports you to Mars. Or a single cloud that looks like it’s on fire.

The thing I really love here, as a photographer, is how the sky becomes the subject.

There’s no clutter or noise.

Some of my favourite moments photographing the Karoo sky show are when simple shapes and colours meet and intertwine.

You’re treated to abstract and minimal.

Stay tuned for part II.