Crowland willows and cyclists

click photo to enlarge
"He that plants trees loves others besides himself."
Thomas Fuller (1654 1734), English physician and writer

When I took today's photograph I was concentrating on achieving a composition that included the line of pollarded willows and the fast approaching pair of cyclists. The sunny afternoon was reason enough to stop off at Crowland on the Lincolnshire Fens, and I gravitated towards this particular place just outside the village because I'd photographed here before without any great success. A distant walker proved to be too far away to be useful to the composition I wanted, so I asked my wife to walk ahead to provide the human interest that I felt the shot needed. However, as she did so the cyclists came into view and I had just enough time to change lenses, raise the camera to my eye and fire off a few shots before they whizzed past me with a few cheery words. I'm reasonably pleased with the outcome, despite the road being dotted with freshly fallen soil from a tractor and plough that passed a couple of minutes earlier, and a little of the water-tower showing against the sky.

It wasn't until I brought the photograph up on my computer that I looked really carefully at the line of trees. And, when I did so, the quotation above by Thomas Fuller immediately came to mind. Whoever planted the large willows in this row by the side of the water (just visible on the extreme left) must have had a vision of what it would achieve and the public spirit to offer it to future generations, because, as Fuller's quote implies, trees take a long time to come to maturity and full beauty, and this is frequently after the planter has shuffled off this mortal coil. But, my photograph revealed more. In between the old trees are newly planted youngsters that must be the next-generation-in-waiting. Clearly someone else has an eye to the future of this location too, knows that the existing trees have limited lives, and have generously planted knowing that it won't be them who sees the trees when they reach their full beauty.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 300mm
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/250
ISO: 160
Exposure Compensation:  -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Kingsforth Windmill, Barton on Humber

click photo to enlarge

The first house we bought was quite old and so to smarten it up we quickly set about painting the main downstairs rooms. However, despite taking great care in the choice and application of paint, we found that on one ceiling it dried, cracked and then flaked, peeling back from the surface. Someone more experienced told us that it must have been painted with distemper, a form of whiting or whitewash, a paint based on chalk or lime, widely used in the nineteenth century and the first half of the twentieth century. There was nothing to do but remove all the new paint and old distemper, and get right back to the original plaster surface. It was an arduous task.

What has this to do with my photograph of the remaining tower of Kingsforth windmill in Barton on Humber, Lincolnshire? Well, during the first part of its life as a working mill, as well as grinding the usual corn it had an additional pair of vertical edge runner stones that produced Paris Whiting from local chalk. This was the best grade of whiting with uses in putty making as well as the production of whitewash and distemper. But, whether due to changing fashion, newer technology, or some other reason, the production of whiting ceased in 1859, though corn milling continued until 1950.

Kingsforth windmill is a tall, tower mill with an ogee cap,  a type common in Lincolnshire. It dates from around 1800, was erected on the site of an earlier windmill, and is unusual in having chalk rubble between the brick walls. The black finish is pitch, designed to improve the weather protection, something that is also widespread in the eastern counties. A granary building is attached to the tower which today houses a pub, "The Old Mill". The mill itself originally had six sails. However, when one blew off in 1868 the power for milling was changed to the town's gas supply. Consequently, the view that we see today is the one seen for most of the windmill's life. I quickly took a photograph as we passed by. But, as we continued on our way a Royal Mail worker delivering letters on a bicycle came by, adding a little local colour and making for a more interesting and better balanced composition.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 32mm
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/320 sec
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  -0.67 EV
Image Stabilisation: On