Where's its face?

click photo to enlarge
One of the delightful things about children is that you never know what they might say next. What can seem to be evidence of a grasshopper mind or a struggle to understand is more often than not simply an indication that children's thought isn't constrained by the same wide range of experiences that often limit adult thinking.

My wife tells a story of the dawning realisation by a small boy who knew her that my surname is the same as hers. After repeating both our names - "Mr Boughen, Mrs Boughen" a few times to fully establish the connection he said, "Do you live in the same house?" As my wife replied in the affirmative she wondered just where his mind would go next. But what he came up with was nowhere near what she thought he might say. "Does it have a chimney?" he enquired.

During our recent couple of days out and about in London with our granddaughter we visited the Sea Life London Aquarium. She'd been there when she was younger and had been quite scared of the sharks. On this occasion, however, she was fascinated by everything she saw and we spent a couple of hours slowly moving through the building marvelling at the variety of life on display. When we came to a tank that held some jellyfish we paused to watch them swim about by pulsating their bodies. We'd answered a lot of questions up to that point but I wasn't prepared for the one that these jellyfish prompted. "Where's its face?" she asked. A perfectly reasonable question from a child whose experience of animal life up to that point has been largely with those that have eyes and mouths. But not the easiest question for a grandfather to answer in a way that a two year old can understand.

I took quite a few photographs of the creatures in the aquarium. However, low light levels, fast moving fish and a relatively small sensor camera don't make for photographic 100% success. Quite a few shots had motion blur or other shortcomings. But the jellyfish came out rather better (as did the crocodiles, terrapins and slower moving fish). These examples were in a tank with lighting that cycled through a variety of colours. The main photograph is best of the crop for the lighting and the composition. I include the other two for contrast.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Photo 1
Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 10.4mm (28mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f5
Shutter Speed: 1/30 sec
ISO:2500
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Anno, Wally and scrap metal

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When my children were small one of the books they enjoyed was "Anno's Journey"(1977) by the Japanese author and illustrator, Mitsumasa Anno. This was one of a series that chronicled the journey of a character through various landscapes and countries. "Anno's Britain" and "Anno's USA" were two further titles that I recall they liked. The charm of these books lay in the fascinating detail of the drawing. There were no words, just full page illustrations from which the child could invent their own narrative based on the activities (some very humorous) that they noticed. They were books to return to often, and which had appeal for a relatively wide age range. Studying the detailed drawings was the underpinning attraction of these books. This was something taken up by the British illustrator, Martin Hanford, in his "Where's Wally" ("Where's Waldo" in the U.S.) series. Hanford added the twist that Wally was difficult to find on each page, and whilst the first aim was invariably to find Wally, after that task had been completed the rest of the page could be scoured for all that it held. Children took to these books as much as they did to Anno's - perhaps more.

On a recent visit to Newark in Nottinghamshire I took a photograph from a bridge of the local metal scrap yard. It was a hive of noise and activity as workers, grab cranes, delivery and collection drivers busied themselves with the process of turning waste metal into a form suitable for transport and recycling. My long lens compressed the scene making it look more of a disorganised jumble than I imagine it is. Moreover, when I looked at the shot I noticed more people than I'd seen when I pressed the shutter. I set about counting how many there were, and immediately remembered Anno and Wally! Such is the way that the human mind - OK, my mind - works!

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 97mm
F No: f8
Shutter Speed: 1/200
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  -0.67 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

One greenbottle is more than enough

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Some of the world's worst songs are not the output of say, the Spice Girls, Abba, or Justin Bieber* but are those that we teach to young children. The effect on me of songs such as "Michael Row the Boat Ashore", "Kumbaya", "Five Little Speckled Frogs" and "Ten Green Bottles" has been so profound that hearing one of these ditties today re-kindles in me thoughts of preceptorcide**. I know that many children enjoy the repetition, jollity, generally upbeat mood, or even the sentimentality of these songs. The trouble is that, as a foundation on which to build a deeper appreciation of music, they are jerry-built constructions, and may well account for some of the debased preferences of the music-buying public as evinced by what passes for the Top Forty today.

My annual sighting of a greenbottle fly triggered the words of the irritating song about ten green glass bottles mentioned above and the subsequent reflection on children's songs. As usual, I came across the colourful creature as I did a late summer tour of the garden in search of an image or two of the perennials that are now in full flower. When I first became acquainted with this fly I discovered that it has an unwholesome lifestyle and habits very much at odds with its incandescent appearance. Consequently I found it entirely appropriate that its name reminds me of one of the world's worst songs.

* On second thoughts the output of these"artistes" are among the world's worst songs.
** Preceptorcide: a word invented by me for this blog post. Work it out.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 100mm macro
F No: f5
Shutter Speed: 1/160 sec
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Tiptoe through the ...

click photo to enlarge

Many years ago I accompanied about seventy five children on a day out in the countryside. They were nine years old and lived in a large city. At 9.30 a.m. our double-decker bus got underway and headed out through the suburbs. As it did so one of the teachers leaned across to me and said, "I wonder what time the first one will ask if they can eat their packed lunch?" I realised why she asked when a voice piped up with that request only thirty minutes later!

We were heading for an area near the mouth of a large estuary, and as we rumbled along I heard a cheer from the children upstairs on the bus. I assumed they were playing a game, but then I heard another, and soon after the children downstairs cheered too. I looked around to find out why, and it dawned on me that they were cheering at the sight of fields of oilseed rape. The children upstairs, being higher, spotted them first, and had cheered sooner. For most of them it was their first sight of these improbably bright yellow fields, and the joy of seeing them caused a cheer to ring through the bus as each one came into view for each deck of children. That trip was in June. This year the crop is flowering in early May: last year it was the middle of April. It's probably the development of early plant varieties that accounts for this, but maybe global warming is adding its touch too. There are those in Britain who dislike these yellow fields of spring, feeling that they add an alien character to our traditional green countryside. I don't mind them, probably because each time I see one the sheer yellowness of it impresses me the way it did those children, and it raises my spirits.

Who could resist walking the path across this field near Ropsley, Lincolnshire? It's like entering a fairytale land where everything is hyper-real. The farmer who owns it has, commendably, left the public right of way perfectly clear, helping not only the walkers who want to experience being surrounded by glowing yellow, but also himself, because they then keep to the path and don't trample a broad swath through his valuable crops.

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 68mm macro (136mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f8
Shutter Speed: 1/500
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -0.7 EV
Image Stabilisation: On