Chasing Stillness: Two Mornings of Fog and Light on the Burin Peninsula

Mornings on the Burin Peninsula feel like they were made just for photographers. Not for dramatic skies or crashing waves, but for quiet and stillness. For the kind of fog that rolls in soft and slow, swallowing the world one frame at a time.

I had two of those mornings in a row, a few years back. Even now, when I think back, I can still see the light drifting through the mist.

Evening in Burin

I rolled into Burin the evening before, on a day that started clear and blue but quickly gave way to fog. Near blue hour, I found this cluster of red houses along the water. These well known red houses on the Burin Peninsula were an easy pick for a photo, especially in that moody light. A warm street light barely piercing through the fog. There was a stillness to the scene that felt like classic Newfoundland. Not dramatic, not loud, just a soft, moody moment. The kind of thing that draws me to Newfoundland photography again and again.

Foggy Scene Burin Newfoundland.

Fog and Sunrise in Port au Bras & Burin

The next morning, I started early in Port au Bras. The fog was still clinging to the area, thick and dreamy. A single boat sat in the harbour, perfectly still in the mist. A classic foggy Newfoundland morning.

A Lone Boat sits in the fog at Port au Bras Newfoundland.

As sunrise approached, I drove back to Burin. The red houses I’d photographed the night before were still wrapped in fog, but now the sun was breaking through. The light caught the mist just right, casting a warm glow over the whole scene.

Golden Fog at Burin Newfoundland.

Further down the road, I captured another quiet moment. A lone boat, lit gently by the light shining through the fog. A minimalist composition, but full of atmosphere. These are the kinds of coastal Newfoundland photos I love most, when less is more.

Boat in the Morning Fog at Burin Newfoundland.

I ended the morning with a final frame of a house at the edge of the water, mountains in the background, and mist hovering just beneath the ridge. The fog hugged the land and water like it wasn’t ready to let go. It was the last shot before moving on, but one that stuck with me.

Fog over the Mountains behind a House at Burin Newfoundland.

Misty Light in Little Bay East & Bay L’Argent

The next morning began in Little Bay East. I’d arrived the night before hoping to photograph a well-known sea stack, but poor weather shut things down. Morning didn’t look much better with grey skies, flat light and no drama. I took a few frames of the sea stack anyway, just in case.

But as I packed up and headed back toward the truck, the sky changed.

A break in the clouds revealing some colour and light. I dropped everything and sprinted back down to the beach, just in time to capture a few frames as the landscape lit up. It didn’t last long, but it was enough to breathe life into an otherwise forgettable morning.

Sea Stack at Little Bay East Newfoundland.

From there, I drove toward Bay L’Argent. And that’s where the light really came alive.

Mist hovered low over the mountains as the sun peeked through, casting a warm glow over the landscape. I pulled over and photographed the mountains reflecting on the water, with soft colour in the sky.

Mountains at Bay L’Argent Newfoundland.

Just inside Bay L’Argent, I found more. A lone boat on the water with the mountains rising behind it, soft fog still hanging on, early light catching the surrounding landscape.

Lone Boat at Bay L’Argent Newfoundland.

And then the last frame of the morning, a quiet fishing stage framed by mountains and mist. The atmosphere, the stillness, it all came together in a way that feels rare. It was a fitting photo to end an unforgettable two days.

Fishing Stage Bay L'Argent Newfoundland.

Final Thoughts

Over two mornings and a pair of evenings, I captured some of my favourite Newfoundland sunrise photography in recent memory. I leaned into the fog and waited for those fleeting moments where the light cuts through and transforms everything. These moments are rare. Even more rare is to get two mornings in a row like this. I have not had a morning like this since.

The mix of quiet coves, fishing stages, early light, and ever changing fog offers something different than your standard sunrise. These weren’t loud mornings, but quiet with some magic. And they told a story I was glad to be part of on the Burin Peninsula of Newfoundland.