Fern frost

click photo to enlarge
Those of us who grew up in 1950s and 1960s Britain will remember frost patterns on the windows of the houses in which we lived. Sometimes they were on the outside but often we'd wake up in winter to find them on the inside. Double glazing and central heating have banished frosted windows for most people, but the absence of those two conveniences will result in the phenomenon even today.

They occur inside when there is air below freezing point outside and moist air inside that condenses on the cold glass as ice crystals. What has always fascinated me - and everyone I've spoken to about this kind of frost - is the form of the patterns that are produced. The most common type seem to be a shape similar to leaves or fern fronds. Quite how and why this shape results is a mystery to me, and a quick search doesn't produce a clear or detailed answer. It seems that the composition of the surface of the glass, particularly its imperfections, are contributory factors, but a fuller explanation is not easily found.

Today's photograph was taken on a recent early morning after a cold night. The icy patterns, commonly called fern frost, were on the outside of the windscreen of a parked car. The low sun that was obscured by trees was strong enough to produce a directional light that emphasised the details of the delicate "leaves".

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 100mm
F No: f8
Shutter Speed: 1/100
ISO: 500
Exposure Compensation:  -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On 

Puddle ice compositions

click photos to enlarge

We've had a couple of days of thaw and now the thermometers are back to showing sub-zero temperatures day and night. But, as they say, "it is an ill wind that blows nobody any good", and the return of the cold has at least been accompanied by bright skies. So, a walk with the camera over a few well-trodden paths seemed in order.

I don't know about you, but I have come to realise that I can walk the same routes on many days over many years, and still come up with something new to photograph. Familiarity doesn't always breed contempt (to quote another old saying), it can just as easily reveal new possibilities. If, that is, we care to look for them. The puddles on our path, that had been frozen for the best part of two and a half weeks, had more or less returned to liquid, but on this walk were ice once again. But what ice! I'd love to know the physics that created the two main pattern types that most of them exhibited on one of the tracks. I mentally gave them the names "Feiningers" and "Arps" after the names of the painters whose works they brought to mind.

The Feiningers were the compositions with straight, thrusting, and angular lines. The Arps, by way of contrast, had soft curves and concentric loops. No one else seemed to have walked the path since the latest freeze so all the puddles were intact. I took several shots, all of which I found fascinating, and here I present a fairly random foursome that shows two of each type. However, though my photograph choice is random, the recurring details of these ice patterns shows that their creation wasn't entirely down to chance, but was influenced by some common processes that were repeated across the ground the night the puddles froze over. Someone will be able to explain them. I can't.

photographs and text (c) T. Boughen

Photo 1
Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 73mm
F No: f6.3
Shutter Speed: 1/80
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: 0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Black and white on a grey day

click photo to enlarge

On a recent visit to Newark, when the weather forecasters promised sunshine and cloud and the elements delivered leaden skies, mist and drizzle, I said to my wife, "I think any shots I get today will be black and white". It's perfectly possible to tease colour photographs out of lifeless days, but a brief appearance by even a weak and watery sun can make all the difference (as this winter landscape shows).

But, that day the sun made no appearance at all, and so I concentrated on images that looked like they might work in monochrome, (see yesterday's) and in my search for colour I tried a few indoor shots. Today's photograph was taken for two reasons. Firstly, it shows ice on a large stretch of water, something that until last year wasn't too common a sight in our Gulf Stream caressed islands. And secondly, it seemed a suitable subject and lighting for a black and white image. The River Trent is a navigable river that flows through Newark and several other large towns and cities. At this point a canal-like loop was taken off the main flow and warehouses and locks were built to serve the barges and the town's industries. Today the warehouses are waterside flats and most of the river traffic is pleasure craft, some of which are berthed at a nearby marina. However, enough remains of the infrastructure from the Industrial Revolution to give an idea of how the area must have been in its hey-day.

The big disadvantage of a dull day as far as black and white goes is the absence of deep shadow and the consequent dearth of drama, contrast and three-dimensional modelling that shadows can offer. So here I looked for a grey shot to reflect the grey day and concentrated on the details of the buildings and water.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 105mm
F No: f8
Shutter Speed: 1/60
ISO: 200
Exposure Compensation: -0.67 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Climbing the north face of the high street

click photo to enlarge

"Our Himalayan suit will keep you alive in minus 40, minus 50 degrees. Not so many people are going to go to Everest but you can trust we are going to keep you dry even if it's only while you walk the dog."
Timo Schmidt-Eisenhart, head of European division of North Face outdoor clothing company (quoted in The Guardian, 11th December 2010)

The other day I was laughing at and lamenting Toyota's advertising pitch for its 4X4 vehicles. Their suggestion that because they are the only manufacturer to make an off-road vehicle that has journeyed to the North Pole then you should buy one for whizzing about the roads and lanes of Britain seemed to me risible. And then, a couple of days later I read an article about North Face and how their clothing, which includes some that is designed for climbing etc, is a fashion hit on the high street because of, to quote one of the authors, "the discreet badge of masculinity the logo confers." Ridiculous, but probably right. People are daft enough to swallow the line spun by such companies. In fact it appears to be a basic marketing approach across a range of consumer products. You want to sell cameras? Get a high-end model into use by professionals then sell the consumer models on the back of it. How about a family saloon? Take the body shell of your mass-production model, gut it, re-engine it, change everything except the basic shape, compete in rallying or some other form of motorsport, then use the resulting images and associations (and trophies if you happen to be successful) to sell your mainstream cars to the man in the street. There are plenty of men (and increasingly women) who will buy cars on this basis. Ludicrous or what?

I was wearing no discreet badge of masculinity from North Face or any other "top brand" when I took today's photograph. In fact, the temperature was a couple of degrees above zero, and felt positively balmy compared with previous days. My subject is the Italianate pool and the classical loggia of the war memorial in the grounds of Ayscoughfee Hall, Spalding. The ice shows signs of melting, but it was several inches thick and so needed a good few days of higher temperatures before it became home once more to the mallard that were huddled on the bank nearby. The memorial building is by Edwin Lutyens who was also responsible for the Cenotaph in Whitehall, London. It is a fine piece of work that I must make the subject of a future blog post. Incidentally, the grounds of Ayscoughfee Hall are now public gardens with a cafe etc, and the unusual and wonderful name has prompted me to suggest, on more than one occasion, that we should have an "Ayscoughfee cafe coffee", a remark that usually provokes groans and pitying looks in my companions.

I seem to have taken a lot of contre jour shots lately, and have probably done enough to fulfill the pledge I made a few months ago to do more of this kind of shot.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 24mm
F No: f8
Shutter Speed: 1/400
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -1.0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On