click photo to enlarge
Recently, as I've been travelling about, I've chanced upon several thatched buildings undergoing renewal of their roofs. English thatched buildings are generally roofed with either long straw, Norfolk reed or imported reed, combed wheat reed or sedge grass. The material of choice usually depends on local vernacular tradition, the availability of the desired thatching, and the depth of the pockets of the building's owner. In East Anglia, due to the presence of suitable watery areas, the water reed was widely used; elsewhere tall-stemmed varieties of wheat were more favoured. However, the amount of reed available in East Anglia is such that foreign reed, often from the banks of the Danube, has been imported for some years.
On my recent visit to North Norfolk, when passing through Cley next the Sea, I noticed that the reeds of the coastal marsh around the village had been cut for thatching. It was stacked on the flood bank in several piles, under tarpaulins, awaiting selection and use. This activity had denuded the thick reed beds and large, irregular areas were very flat where the reed-cutters tools had been at work. You can see something of this in today's photograph.
photograph and text © Tony Boughen
Camera: Nikon D5300
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 20mm (30mm - 27mm equiv.)
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/400 sec
ISO:100
Exposure Compensation: -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On
Showing posts with label Cley-next-the-Sea. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Cley-next-the-Sea. Show all posts
Friday, April 24, 2015
Thursday, April 16, 2015
It's that windmill again
click photo to enlarge
During the Second World War the British government gave a lot of thought, manpower and money towards keeping up the morale of the civilian population. One of the means of achieving this was through the "light entertainment" programmes of BBC radio. The comedy show, "It's That Man Again" was probably the most popular of these programmes. It ran from 1939 to 1949 and entertained listeners with its characters, jokes, story lines and the fun that it made of Hitler and the Axis powers. The show was built around a comedian, Tommy Handley, and when he unexpectedly died in 1949 the long-running series ended. I'm not old enough to have heard it broadcast during those years though I have heard clips. Moreover, I do recall quite a few of the performers who went on to star in radio and TV shows of the 1950s and 1960s comedy shows; people such as Derek Guyler and Hatti Jaques.
You might wonder what this has got to do with a(nother) photograph of the windmill at Cley next the Sea in Norfolk. Well, when I came to give a title to this blog post I came up with the one above. But it seemed a bit long and not very snappy so I thought of abbreviating the words it to ITWA in the way that "It's That Man Again" was always abbreviated to ITMA. It was at that point that I thought, "Tony, you're showing your age again, people (especially younger folk and non-UK dwellers) won't know a thing about ITMA". So I stuck with the original title and blogged about that long-gone show instead!
photograph and text © Tony Boughen
Camera: Nikon D5300
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 30mm (45mm - 27mm equiv.)
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/400 sec
ISO:100
Exposure Compensation: -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On
During the Second World War the British government gave a lot of thought, manpower and money towards keeping up the morale of the civilian population. One of the means of achieving this was through the "light entertainment" programmes of BBC radio. The comedy show, "It's That Man Again" was probably the most popular of these programmes. It ran from 1939 to 1949 and entertained listeners with its characters, jokes, story lines and the fun that it made of Hitler and the Axis powers. The show was built around a comedian, Tommy Handley, and when he unexpectedly died in 1949 the long-running series ended. I'm not old enough to have heard it broadcast during those years though I have heard clips. Moreover, I do recall quite a few of the performers who went on to star in radio and TV shows of the 1950s and 1960s comedy shows; people such as Derek Guyler and Hatti Jaques.
You might wonder what this has got to do with a(nother) photograph of the windmill at Cley next the Sea in Norfolk. Well, when I came to give a title to this blog post I came up with the one above. But it seemed a bit long and not very snappy so I thought of abbreviating the words it to ITWA in the way that "It's That Man Again" was always abbreviated to ITMA. It was at that point that I thought, "Tony, you're showing your age again, people (especially younger folk and non-UK dwellers) won't know a thing about ITMA". So I stuck with the original title and blogged about that long-gone show instead!
photograph and text © Tony Boughen
Camera: Nikon D5300
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 30mm (45mm - 27mm equiv.)
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/400 sec
ISO:100
Exposure Compensation: -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On
Labels:
boats,
Cley-next-the-Sea,
ITMA,
Norfolk,
reeds,
River Glaven,
windmill
Saturday, August 31, 2013
Into the light at Cley and Sheringham
click photo to enlarge
A camera never reproduces exactly what your eye sees but in some circumstances the results are way off. Shooting into the light often has unexpected outcomes. Sometimes the shot has high contrast and is very dramatic. At other times the light meter makes a wrong guess and either exposes the sky correctly but leaves the land unnaturally dark, or it exposes the land properly but the nicely figured sky and clouds are blown out to pure white. Cameras can't yet show the range of gradations between black and white that the eye can see though techniques such as multiple exposures and shadow boosting are making inroads into the deficit. Photographers are, by and large, able to work with this inaccuracy and sometimes welcome the camera's results because they "improve" on what the eye saw. At other times extensive digital manipulation is required to bring a better balance and greater verisimilitude to, say, a landscape where the photographer was forced to shoot against the light.
I found myself in that situation a couple of weeks ago. We were passing through Cley next the Sea in Norfolk, the location of one of the most photographed windmills in England, and I thought I'd try for a shot of it in its setting. However, it was half an hour past noon in mid-August, not the best time for landscape photography. Moreover, the view I wanted required me to shoot into the light. The result was a series of images with good sky but dark buildings, marsh and woodland. That's not what my eye saw; the scene was quite brightly lit. So, when I got home I sat down for half and hour or so with the image on the computer and tried to convert my badly exposed shot into something closer to what I saw.
Was I successful? How do you judge success? It's very hard to remember exactly how the scene looked and the relative brightness of all the elements. I suppose one measure of success is that the shot looks natural to someone who wasn't there with me. And yet, I fear that we are sufficiently far down the road in digital photography and manipulation that many people and even more photographers no longer have a secure grasp of what looks "real" in photographs. I find myself questioning some of the shots that my newspaper presents as a record of an event, and some of the images I see on forums, in photography magazines and in competitions appear to have been taken on a planet other than earth, such is the level of saturation and the balance of tones. Another measure of success is that it looks right to me. This one isn't quite right. Nor is the smaller photograph of the beach huts at Sheringham. But they are both closer to what I saw than the images the camera recorded.
photograph and text © Tony Boughen
Photo 1
Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 67mm
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/800 sec
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On
A camera never reproduces exactly what your eye sees but in some circumstances the results are way off. Shooting into the light often has unexpected outcomes. Sometimes the shot has high contrast and is very dramatic. At other times the light meter makes a wrong guess and either exposes the sky correctly but leaves the land unnaturally dark, or it exposes the land properly but the nicely figured sky and clouds are blown out to pure white. Cameras can't yet show the range of gradations between black and white that the eye can see though techniques such as multiple exposures and shadow boosting are making inroads into the deficit. Photographers are, by and large, able to work with this inaccuracy and sometimes welcome the camera's results because they "improve" on what the eye saw. At other times extensive digital manipulation is required to bring a better balance and greater verisimilitude to, say, a landscape where the photographer was forced to shoot against the light.
I found myself in that situation a couple of weeks ago. We were passing through Cley next the Sea in Norfolk, the location of one of the most photographed windmills in England, and I thought I'd try for a shot of it in its setting. However, it was half an hour past noon in mid-August, not the best time for landscape photography. Moreover, the view I wanted required me to shoot into the light. The result was a series of images with good sky but dark buildings, marsh and woodland. That's not what my eye saw; the scene was quite brightly lit. So, when I got home I sat down for half and hour or so with the image on the computer and tried to convert my badly exposed shot into something closer to what I saw.
Was I successful? How do you judge success? It's very hard to remember exactly how the scene looked and the relative brightness of all the elements. I suppose one measure of success is that the shot looks natural to someone who wasn't there with me. And yet, I fear that we are sufficiently far down the road in digital photography and manipulation that many people and even more photographers no longer have a secure grasp of what looks "real" in photographs. I find myself questioning some of the shots that my newspaper presents as a record of an event, and some of the images I see on forums, in photography magazines and in competitions appear to have been taken on a planet other than earth, such is the level of saturation and the balance of tones. Another measure of success is that it looks right to me. This one isn't quite right. Nor is the smaller photograph of the beach huts at Sheringham. But they are both closer to what I saw than the images the camera recorded.
photograph and text © Tony Boughen
Photo 1
Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 67mm
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/800 sec
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On
Labels:
against the light,
Cley-next-the-Sea,
contre jour,
landscape,
Norfolk,
photography,
windmill
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Cley next the Sea
I read the other day that wheat accounts for a mere 13% of the price of a loaf of bread in the UK. Since the average loaf is currently £1.10, and bakers are agitating for super- markets to add a further 10p, perhaps increasing numbers of households will see the wisdom in baking their own "staff of life". The rise in the price of food across the world has already seen packets of vegetable seeds flying off the shelves in volumes not seen for many years as more British families turn to their garden rather than the store as the source of their greens. And, though one has to be concerned about the affordability of basic foodstuffs, the benefits to health, wealth, well-being and the environment that flow from making and growing more of our own food are to be welcomed.
Fifty years ago much more food was produced in the family kitchen and from the family garden or allotment. Back then it happened principally for reasons of economy, but taste, nutrient value, relaxation and exercise were also factors. Many families, including my own, have always baked bread and grown vegetables, but until recently, despite the proselytising of TV chefs and gardeners, it was a slowly dying practice. So, if it makes a comeback - for whatever reason - I say "Hooray!"
The image of this much photographed windmill at Cley next the Sea, Norfolk, prompted these thoughts. Its turning sails and grinding stones produced flour from the time of its construction in 1819 until its closure as a mill in 1921. I imagine most of its produce was sold in the immediate locality, and turned into bread and other delicacies in fireside ovens, ranges and cookers. Since the time the sails were stilled it has been a home and a bed and breakfast. Old photographs show the building reflected in the harbour with boats alongside. However, like the village of Cley (pronounced "Cly") the mill is no longer "next the Sea", due to land drainage and the silting up of the harbour. Today a walk of almost a mile is necessary to find the beach!
I took this shot of the marsh, mill and nearby cottages as the sun illuminated them against a dark and threatening sky.
Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 55mm (110mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/400
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: 0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On
Fifty years ago much more food was produced in the family kitchen and from the family garden or allotment. Back then it happened principally for reasons of economy, but taste, nutrient value, relaxation and exercise were also factors. Many families, including my own, have always baked bread and grown vegetables, but until recently, despite the proselytising of TV chefs and gardeners, it was a slowly dying practice. So, if it makes a comeback - for whatever reason - I say "Hooray!"
The image of this much photographed windmill at Cley next the Sea, Norfolk, prompted these thoughts. Its turning sails and grinding stones produced flour from the time of its construction in 1819 until its closure as a mill in 1921. I imagine most of its produce was sold in the immediate locality, and turned into bread and other delicacies in fireside ovens, ranges and cookers. Since the time the sails were stilled it has been a home and a bed and breakfast. Old photographs show the building reflected in the harbour with boats alongside. However, like the village of Cley (pronounced "Cly") the mill is no longer "next the Sea", due to land drainage and the silting up of the harbour. Today a walk of almost a mile is necessary to find the beach!
I took this shot of the marsh, mill and nearby cottages as the sun illuminated them against a dark and threatening sky.
photograph & text (c) T. Boughen
Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 55mm (110mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/400
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: 0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On
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