December morning light

click photo to enlarge
The flat, Fenland landscape that extends across parts of Lincolnshire, Norfolk, Cambridgeshire and Suffolk is well known for its fertile soils that comprise about half of England's Grade 1 agricultural land.What is less well-known is the wide range of light that the Fens exhibit, a feature that is particularly noticeable in autumn and winter. This is partly to do with the "big skies" that all flat areas experience, but the low-lying nature of the land and the managed drainage systems that criss-cross the area must also play their part. Mists, strong and slight, are common. Rain squalls can be seen from miles away. Cloud types proliferate. And these effects, and more, are food for the hungry photographer.

Today's photograph shows a typical Fenland scene on a cool but not cold December morning. The shadows of trees and houses behind the photographer darken the field of winter wheat that is showing through the manicured soil. Pantiles and bricks of houses at the village edge glow a deeper orange in the yellow-tinted light. A church tower peeps over the graveyard trees that surround it.Poplars and a walnut that is past its best thrust up into a blue sky that looks like a painter has wiped his white brush clean on it. And in the distance the slight mist almost, but not quite, obscures the sheep that have been tuned onto the remains of a field of cabbages. It's the kind of unremarkable scene I often see but don't often photograph.And each time I do I wonder why I don't do it more often.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Photo Title: December Morning Light, Lincolnshire
Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 12.6mm (34mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f2.8
Shutter Speed: 1/2000 sec
ISO:125
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

The solar floodlight

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The five-day weather forecast for my part of the world, for the past few days, has been cloud, cloud and more cloud. And, every day thus far, we have experienced several sunny spells each day that have broken through the cloud cover. I'm considering becoming a weather forecaster - I would be just as good at getting the forecast wrong as the current crop of people.

Sun broke through again very briefly on an early morning visit to Boston, Lincolnshire, and prompted this photograph. When I was starting out in photography many decades ago I had a handy little Kodak booklet of hints and tips for taking better photographs. One suggestion was that the photographer should not take shots with the sun behind them. If the photograph included people it would cause them to squint at the camera, and the floodlight effect of the sun at this position would make the subject appear flat because of the absence of shadows to model it. This isn't bad advice, but like all such rules they are made to be broken knowingly.

What prompted this shot was the yellow tint that the low light gave to the subject of the church of St Botolph. The other was the way the sliver of deep shadow of the buttresses made it look like a flash gun was throwing a shadow onto the background of clouds. And the other was that this is a different kind of record shot of a subject I've photographed many times before. Incidentally, I wouldn't choose to shoot this subject with the lens open at f1.8 but I could see the shadow of the clouds slipping across the market place and I simply didn't have time to change the setting.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Photo Title: Morning, St Botolph, Boston, Lincolnshire
Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 10.4mm (28mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f1.8
Shutter Speed: 1/2000
ISO: 125
Exposure Compensation:  -0.7 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Photos from hill and dale

click photo to enlarge
Today's photograph was taken on 1st October on an unseasonally warm and bright day with scarcely a cloud to be seen. We were walking from Settle to Knight Stainforth upstream alongside the River Ribble. The water was lower than is usual for this time of year due to a dry spell and with very little by way of breeze its surface was quite mirror-like. Looking at my photograph you could almost imagine it was high summer, such is the brightness of the light and the clarity of the scene. Only the hint of the trees turning to autumnal colours reveals the later date in the year. Weather of this kind isn't what I usually look for when I'm out with my camera; I prefer more interesting skies. And yet this light on this scene was sufficiently attractive for me to take the shot.

As I reviewed the photographs taken during our time in the Settle area I realised that a couple of days before I took this photograph we had been on the limestone above the Ribble Valley near this point. A shot I'd taken of the valley side with its medieval terrace remains emphasised by the slanting light also included this stretch of river and the prominent tree (the first of a line of five or so). If you enlarge the small photograph and look near the centre you'll see the location. What I find interesting about this pair of images, from hill and dale, is how the second photograph contextualises the first and shows the topography of the setting.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Photo 1
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 17mm (34mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/200 sec
ISO:200
Exposure Compensation: 0EV
Image Stabilisation: On

A Dales lane

click photo to enlarge
Lanes, like footpaths, B roads, A roads and motorways etc fulfil a simple purpose - they connect places. However, a distinguishing feature of lanes is that they rarely do so in the most efficient manner. This is because they are often of great age, and some of the places that the lane originally linked no longer exist. Or, the farming carried out in the area through which the lane passes is no longer the same.

The lane in today's photograph is a small affair that links two bigger lanes. This lane rises across a hillside where pasture gives way to scattered trees, rock outcrops, rough grazing and woods. It passes close by an isolated cottage that must once have been the home of a gamekeeper. And perhaps therein lies one of the main reasons for its existence. I'm sure that once it was well marked and maintained. Today it is part footpath, part lane, in some places without an edge, elsewhere with millstone grit drystone walls and trees marking its course. The photograph shows a section with a wall on the right and the remains of a hawthorn hedge on the left. A large beech tree is also a feature, and the lane appears to be wide enough to accommodate a horse-drawn cart.

I took the photograph to record the line of hawthorn, but also for the yellow of the early morning light. The beech had lost some of its leaves, but the hawthorn were still clinging on to theirs, the unseasonally warm weather perhaps making them think that summer was still here.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 29mm (58mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/60 sec
ISO:200
Exposure Compensation: -0.3
Image Stabilisation: On

Mist, photo cropping and relativity

click photo to enlarge
I've been using my relatively small DSLR body (Nikon D5300) and one relatively light and small lens (AF-S Nikkor 18-140mm 1:3.5-5.6G ED) as my walking camera for several months now. I'm relatively happy with the combination's relatively low weight, relatively high quality and relatively wide zoom range. If that makes me sound relatively unenthusiastic, I'm not. Bear in mind that I was raised in Yorkshire, a county where the compliment, "Not bad", is high praise indeed. Seriously, I'm very happy with the results I'm getting: the technical qualities of the sensor, camera controls and lens are very good.

However, the 1.5 crop factor (relative to 35mm) means that the lens' range is 27-210mm and that's not quite wide enough or long enough for me. Better would be 24mm-300mm. However, such a lens would be bigger, heavier, probably not as bright, and probably not as sharp. All equipment involves compromises and my reluctance to carry the Canon 5D2, 24-105mm and 70-300mm (which clearly does cover my desired focal lengths) means that sometimes - maybe 5% of the time - I can't get the shot I want using the Nikon. But, one of the benefits of a good 24 megapixel sensor is the ability to crop the image and simulate a longer focal length, so one of the shortcomings can be addressed.

I took today's photograph with a heavy crop in mind so I ensured the camera was well stabilised. I estimate that I'd have needed a 400mm (equivalent) lens to secure this shot. Yet, cropping has left me with a file that is perfectly usable for most purposes. It shows a view from near Herefordshire Beacon in the Malverns, looking across the low hills around the Severn valley. On our recent walk in that area the mist was clearing when we arrived but started to thicken again as we departed. I liked the colours and gradations in this composition, as well as the detail of the trees and the plumes of smoke. It reminded me of traditional Chinese ink and wash paintings.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Nikon D5300
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 140mm (210mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f8
Shutter Speed: 1/320 sec
ISO:100
Exposure Compensation: -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Morning on the southern Malverns

click photo to enlarge
On one of our regular visits to Herefordshire we stopped off at a spot that I've long intended to visit. The Malverns is a chain of low hills that rise up from a lower, slightly undulating area near the Severn valley. They appear higher than they are, and they have a pleasantly ragged summit line. At the southern end a road takes advantage of a low point to cross the range and it was at this point we stopped to visit an Iron Age hill camp near the summit known as Herefordshire Beacon.

It's my experience that many of life's pleasures are serendipitous, and all the more satisfying for being unexpected. The weather forecast predicted that early fog would be driven off later in the morning by sun. When we arrived at our parking spot, however, it appeared that sun had the ascendancy and mist was in short supply. But, the story from the summit told a different story. Whilst the low ground in our immediate neighbourhood was virtually mist-free, farther away it was still plentiful and made for a magnificent sight with several prominences raising their heads above the white blanket. The fine autumn scene was enhance by the remaining leaves on the trees and the shadows thrown by the low sun. A group of three walkers, also enjoying the morning's pleasures, gave me a further compositional element and added a sense of scale to the grandeur on display.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Nikon D5300
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 80mm (120mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f8
Shutter Speed: 1/160 sec
ISO:100
Exposure Compensation: -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Windless turbines

click photo to enlarge
As the rise and transformation of personal computing in recent decades demonstrates, specific technologies come and go. What I find interesting in this regard is how a continent such as Africa largely missed the desktop computer and laptop and went straight to the computer that is the smartphone. Clearly, the step-by-step evolution in computer technology that the industrialised nations have experienced is not the only way forward: it's possible to miss out a stage or two.

Here's an example of technology arising and then vanishing. A couple of centuries ago the area that is now Greater London was home to about three hundred windmills. There were several thousand elsewhere across the country. These were not the generators of electricity seen in today's photograph, but machine/buildings for milling grain and other products. Today there is but a handful of working mills, none of them commercial. With that in mind I wonder how long wind turbines will be generating a portion of our electricity requirement. I've read that the life-span of a turbine is about twenty five years on land and I imagine it must be less than that at sea. But, quite a bit of energy infrastructure is used beyond its sell-by date so it's likely they'll be around for a little longer than that. However, the fact is that it might be a new technology - one currently in development, or one yet to be imagined - that makes wind turbines redundant. When that day comes the wind "farms" that have sprung up on land and sea will be no more.

I have mixed views about wind turbines. I wish our politicians and energy companies would favour green power generation that is less visually intrusive, or even - heretical thought! - work seriously at reducing consumption. Yet, if they did, I'd lose a photographic subject that is undoubtedly interesting. I've taken quite a few shots of these tall structures at various Lincolnshire locations, including those offshore at Skegness. I took several more on a recent visit to that seaside resort. We arrived at the coast when the wind was barely perceptible, the sea was still, a light mist was clearing, and the sun was illuminating the stationary turbines. This particular image presents the white monsters looking benign and beautiful.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Nikon D5300
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 112mm (168mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f8
Shutter Speed: 1/500 sec
ISO:100
Exposure Compensation: -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Early morning light

click photo to enlarge

As I said in one of my early posts on this blog, I'm a morning person. Of all the times of day the morning is the one that I value most. It seems to hold in its grasp the promise of the day to come, to have a freshness that afternoon and evening cannot match, and the first light of the day is incomparable. It has been said that if you want to take photographs that catch the viewer's eye, then go out with your camera in the early morning. If the sun is present, with or without clouds in attendance, its low angle allows you to make silhouettes, add drama, and simplify your images. Those three things are important in making your photographs noticeable. Often when you include the sun in the image the results are not quite what your eyes see, and can be quite unpredictable, but that's part of the fun!

The other day I strode out into the snowy morning just as the sun was rising. The temperature was -8.5 Celsius but there was no wind, and the crispness of the air was matched by the sharpness of the light. I set off down a lane that I don't use very much, largely because it holds less visual interest than others that I favour. However, at this time of day it allowed me to walk towards the rising sun. Hares scattered as I walked along, their feet throwing up powdered snow as they dashed away, and I stopped periodically to frame trees against the ever brightening sun. The photograph above is one of the best I took. It's not much of a subject, but for me (though maybe not for everyone!) it demonstrates the power of light to transform the ordinary into the interesting or extraordinary. I liked this one because as I progressed down the lane a bank of fog made an appearance, and it added a diffuse quality to the image that contrasts with the the harder outlines of the branches.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 45mm
F No: f8
Shutter Speed: 1/1250
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -1.0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Morning habits and blog visitors

click photo to enlarge

I'm a creature of habit. Eating breakfast reading The Guardian newspaper is my start to the day, every day except one. On Sunday I don't get a newspaper because none of the offerings appeal to me. I used to buy The Observer (the world's oldest Sunday newspaper), but it became a bit too "lifestyle" for my tastes, so now on Sundays I dip into the bits of the more extensive Saturday edition of the Guardian that I didn't read the previous day. But, as well as newspapers and breakfast I often have a quick look at the blog. I've done this a little more recently now that I'm using a mixture of Blogger's "Stats" and Google Analytics. It's interesting to see where people come from, what they look at, what search phrases they use, etc.

The other day I used the combined data from the two packages to look at which countries visitors are coming from. The results are, I think, interesting, and pose a few questions. Here's a summary after a couple of months use of this pair of hit counters. So far I've had people from 92 countries/territories. The top ten countries for visitors are: UK (55%), USA (29%), Australia (5%), Canada (4%), India (2%), Germany (2%) - these six countries account for 97% of hits - then comes the Netherlands, Brazil, Italy and France Those four countries plus the other 82 account for a total of 3%. Clearly, as a UK-based blog, you'd expect the largest percentage of visitors to be from the UK. And the USA, a big, affluent country with a large anglophone population might be expected to provide the second highest total of hits. But the remaining eight of the "top ten" seem to be a mixture of countries that have a high proportion of first or second language English-speakers, or have a high population, or are near European neighbours to the UK. This is largely true also of the three countries that sometimes nudge their way into the top ten - Ireland, Belgium and Poland. Unsurprisingly there are no visitors from most central and west African countries, and some of the Gulf States are absent too. The most surprising (or perhaps not) statistic - thus far there hasn't been a single visit from the People's Republic of China, the world's most populous nation.

Today's photograph was taken on a morning when I was away from home, so I had no newspaper over breakfast, and no computer distractions. However, I did have a post-repast stroll in Fineshade Wood and managed to get this contre jour shot of horse riders and a dog as they disappeared up the forest track ahead of us.

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 150mm (300mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/640
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Chimneys and the picturesque

click photo to enlarge

This derelict Lincolnshire cottage has four chimney stacks, some of them leaning quite alarmingly. Four! That probably equates to an open fire in every room. It looks like a nineteenth century structure, so for much of its life coal and wood would have burned merrily in its fireplaces, offering the inhabitants visual cheer and limited warmth.

The earliest houses had a hole in the ceiling for smoke to exit, but as building skills developed a chimney to confine the smoke and make it leave the building in a controlled way became firstly desirable, then mandatory. Houses made of wood frequently had a chimney made of bricks or stone for safety reasons, and these can still be seen on such houses built during the fifteenth, sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. Fireplace and chimney breasts were often a focus for decoration - arches, pilasters, brackets and mythical figures are common, as are mantelpieces for the display of family artefacts. The chimney stack above the roofline was also often embellished too: a clay pot on a stepped brick cornice for the humble dwelling; spirals, castellation, and more for the well-to-do residence.

Today, ever fewer buildings have chimneys. Indeed the day is coming when new buildings will not require, or be permitted, a source of heat that requires combustion. Consequently chimneys will probably, in time, disappear and with them the focal point of the fireplace and the finial-like finish to the top of houses. Am I alone in thinking that the photograph above would be much less interesting, less picturesque, without the chimneys? Perhaps it's an age thing - maybe younger folk don't see things that way? However, I certainly wouldn't have photographed this scene had there been no chimneys on this building, regardless of the allure of the sun breaking through the cold, foggy, autumn morning.

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 13mm (26mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/1000
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -2.0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Dedications and weather

click photo to enlarge

All Church of England churches have a dedication, usually to a saint, but often to the Virgin Mary, the Trinity, the Holy Rood (Cross), or one of a few other religious symbols. This dedication is usually included in the full name of the building. So, the faintly seen structure in this photograph is The Parish Church of St Swithun, Bicker, Lincolnshire.

Usually the dedication that the church carries today is the one that it originally received a thousand years or more ago. But sometimes it is changed. Bicker's church has always, as far as I know, carried the name of St Swithun, although sometimes it has been, and still is, written as St Swithin. Who was this person? Well, he was a Bishop of Winchester, who died in the year 862, and whose life is relatively well recorded. He appears in"The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle" and several other ancient texts. Like most saints his fame increased after his death, and miracles began to be attributed to him. Swithun's best known miracle is the restoration of a basket of eggs that some workmen had deliberately broken! However, in England, his feast day - 15th July - is much better known than that of many other saints. This is mainly due to the saying that surrounds rain falling (or not) on that particular day: "St Swithun's day if it does rain, For forty days it will remain, St Swithun's Day if it is fair, For forty days 'twill rain no mair (more)." So, English folk who know this saying pay special attention to the weather when 15th July comes around, and hope that precipitation does not bring forty days of wetness right in the middle of summer!

Rain wasn't the prevailing condition when I photographed St Swithun's. An overnight frost had coincided with fog, and the early morning sun forcing its way through gave an opportunity for a contre jour shot. A horizontal crop seemed to make best use of the photographic elements available.

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 11mm (22mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/320
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -1.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: Off

Salons and blown highlights

click photo to enlarge

I've often wondered what visitors to the UK make of the names of our hairdressing salons and men's barbers. When I was young they seemed to be named after the woman or man who ran the place. But gradually, and I guess it started in the 1960s, many adopted punning shop names, some of them quite inventive and many designed to bring a smile to your face. For a number of years I've been keeping a mental note of some of my favourites. Here they are:

Herr Cutz (unlikely to have a German proprietor I think!)
Curl Up 'n' Dye (potentially off-putting!)
The Hair Force (military cuts a speciality?)
The Hair Port (civilian version of the one above?)
A Cut Above (you had to ascend stairs to get to this salon!)
The Head Gardener (lopping and pruning a speciality presumably!)
Ali Barber (no door handle, just say "Open Sesame" to enter)
Prime Cuts (do you leave looking like a dog's dinner?)
Hairs & Graces (someone had used "A Cut Above"!)
Beyond the Fringe (where Alan Bennett gets his hair cut?)
Deb 'n' Hair (Deborah had to dig deep for that one!)
Hair 'n' Now (the fast-food equivalent of hair salons?)
Uppercuts (their styles are a knockout! Ouch!)

But enough of this nonsense: let's talk about blown highlights instead. And I don't mean the sort that are inflicted by one of the establishments above. No, I mean the white (255) that can creep into a photograph in an area of overexposure. Typically it's sky, but it can be white paint, shiny reflections, or any other bright area. Lately, it seems to have become the unforgivable sin of digital photography, and I'm here today saying "lighten up" (pun intended), a bit of blown highlight isn't a problem. It's usually only noticeable by those looking for it. These people are like the audiophiles who spend their time listening for the faults in their equipment rather than the music it's producing. The blown highlight brigade has forgotten the big picture (pun intended again). So in the interests of provocation here's a shot of pylons in morning fog with a massive blown highlight. It also breaks that old photographic rule that says don't let the sun's disc intrude into your image. You don't like it? So criticise me!

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 35mm (70mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/4000
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -2.0 EV
Image Stabilisation: Off