Road signs, footpaths and barley

click photo to enlarge
We were heading for the south of Northamptonshire to do a little walking and the signs were not good. In fact, the signs themselves were fine, but the trees had grown so that half of each one by the side of most major roads could not be read. Northamptonshire County Council or the Highways Agency or whoever is responsible for making sure road signs can be clearly seen hadn't been cutting the trees back and so, a couple of times, we went astray.

Had I thought more deeply about this I'd have realised that this was a taste of things to come, and in fact, the signs were definitely bad. The realisation that Northampton isn't "walking country" hit us after we'd ventured only a couple of hundred yards into some fields on a footpath. The council's waymarks were old, inaccurately placed to indicate the direction of the route, frequently missing, and invariably so faded that any information they once held was no longer legible. Those faults dogged us for several hours as we tried to follow paths marked on the Ordnance Survey map. The fact that many routes showed no sign of anyone having walked them before us didn't help. Occasionally we could see that a solitary walker had passed the way we were going, but such signs were rare.

I can't account for what we discovered in this part of the country. Yes, it is farmland, but it is varied, hilly, wooded, and visually and historically interesting: a more attractive area in which to walk than some that we know that are better waymarked and more frequented. Today's photograph shows my wife, map in hand walking up a hill one evening through ripening barley. This path was unusual in that other people had walked it, but all too common in that the farmer didn't appear to have cut the way of the path - walkers had trampled down the line of the route. Reflecting as we walked, I could only surmise that the absence of walkers is due to the fact that in many people's minds walking can only be undertaken in recognised "walking areas" - the Lake District, the Yorkshire Dales, Dartmoor, the Peak District etc when in fact it is a pleasurable, informative and photographically rewarding undertaking almost anywhere in Britain.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 14mm (28mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/1000 sec
ISO:200
Exposure Compensation: -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Wind power

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A new wind farm has recently appeared on the Fens of Lincolnshire. I've taken an interest in its construction, making several journeys to watch the turbines being erected. On each occasion I met people doing the same thing. One man had an interest in cranes, and had come to see the particularly large machine that was used to erect the columns, nacelle and blades. Others were fascinated by the size, shape and otherworldliness of the turbines. And quite a few recognised the significance of the appearance of these modern windmills in this flat landscape that once held a multitude of windmills and windpumps.

Perhaps those who went to view the erection of the wind farm were a self-selected group who harbour no ill-feeling towards these giants, but it surprised me to find that everyone I met was favourably disposed towards them. Many commented on their elegance and beauty. Some said they were greatly preferable to the electricity pylons. Quite a few recognised the necessity for more environmental forms of power generation, and the need for the electricity to be controlled entirely by our own national government. There was none of the "not in my backyard" (nimbyism) that often characterises the debate about wind turbines, and, whilst I know that what I heard was not representative of all public opinion, it did give me hope that a change is underway.

Today's photograph shows nine of the thirteen turbines seen across an almost ripe barley field. A strong wind is blowing away the fair-weather clouds, and replacing them with a more threatening sky. Some say that turbines are a visual abomination that spoil the view. Such people are usually condemning change and the loss of the familiar. They forget (if they ever knew) that our beloved, "timeless" English landscape of carefully tended fields, trees and farms would be unrecognisable and probably abhorrent to our forebears of only a century or two ago. In the Fens, and elsewhere, change will and must happen, and even a wind farm can make a positive contribution, if only people cast aside their blinkers and let their eyes see it!

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 20mm (40mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f11
Shutter Speed: 1/320
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -0.7 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

The wind that shakes the barley

click photo to enlarge

What are the most frequently photographed subjects. Well, if we're considering the average snapper, then it's probably babies and children, closely followed by holiday views. Amateur photographers have a fascination with sunsets, though people are also popular, as are landscapes. Birds and insects have gone from niche genres to mainstream, and some men (it's always men!) seem to photograph nothing but cars or motorcycles. All of these are perfectly reasonable subjects for the camera, and it's possible to take a perfectly good (or great) shot of each.

There is, however, a subject that attracts the casual snapper and the amateur in equal measure, and which is quite difficult to photograph well. I refer to running water! Many are seduced by the twinkle of light on a moving stream and try to capture it in a still image. They never do. Some place a neutral density filter over the lens and blur the water, making it look like fog flowing along. It creates an odd effect that some like. But the fact is, that what people see and like about flowing water just can't be captured on still photographs. To do the subject justice requires video.

A field of barley is another subject that also needs moving images to show the shimmering beauty of eddies of wind as they move across its silky green surface. However, that didn't stop me trying to get something of that flickering quality recorded on my camera sensor! In the absence of neutral density filters, on a dull day I selected a small aperture and low ISO, and photographed the barley as the strong wind whipped the seed heads back and forth. It took several shots to get something I liked. Does it capture that ethereal quality? Of course not. But it suggests it, and I'll make do with that!

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 22mm (44mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f22
Shutter Speed: 1/5
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: +1 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

John Barleycorn

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"There were three men came out of the west their fortunes for to try,
And these three men made a solemn vow, John Barleycorn must die,
They ploughed, they sowed, they harrowed him in, threw clods upon his head,
And these three men made a solemn vow, John Barleycorn was dead."
Old English folk song (Verse One)

The first version of this folk song that I ever heard was by the English rock group, Traffic. I'd been interested in folk song in the raw and in its use by classical music for a few years, but this particular melody didn't cross my path until the release of their album "John Barleycorn Must Die". In the era of folk rock by bands like Fairport Convention and Pentangle it didn't strike me as odd that they chose a traditional song to set amongst their jazz and soul inflected music, but, with the benefit of hindsight I can see it was a bit odd.

The song exists in a number of versions, the oldest being in George Bannatyne's Scottish manuscript of 1568, which collected verse of various kinds. There are many seventeenth century broadside ballad versions, and Robert Burns published a re-worked interpretation in 1782. Common to all renditions of the song is the personification of barley as "John Barleycorn" or "Sir John", and a succession of "attacks" upon him that represent the cultivation and harvesting of the crop, and its eventual destiny in beer and whisky. There have been attempts to link John Barleycorn's death and resurrection in the song with Christian ideas but I've always thought that to be a metaphor too far. However, it is a wonderfully wrought story with a strong melody. Its survival to the present day is testament to the power and beauty invested in it by its unknown authors.

Ever since I became familiar with John Barleycorn I can't see the hairy ears of barley without the line, "And little Sir John's grown a long, long beard, and so become a man", popping into my head. It did so again when I stopped to photograph this field on the Lincolnshire Wolds near Hameringham. The lone tree, the tractor tracks and the soft clouds against the blue May sky suggested another minimalist landscape composition of the sort I tried at the end of April, so I isolated them with a longish focal length for this image.

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 46mm (92mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/1000
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -0.7 EV
Image Stabilisation: On