Spring in the woods

click photo to enlarge
We recently walked from Woodhall Spa to the tiny hamlet of Martin (see church in previous post) and back, a distance of about 9 miles. Quite a lot of our footpaths took us through trees. Lincolnshire isn't a county known for its woodland but it has more than the popular image suggests, and in places trees are really quite plentiful.

At this time of year the leaf canopy isn't fully developed. Consequently quite a bit of light still makes its way to the woodland floor. Bluebells and ramsons use this brief period as an opportunity to grow and flower. On our walk it was wood anemones that were taking advantage of the brightness: in places it looked like a light fall of large snowflakes had descended in the night. We heard chiff chaffs and a cuckoo, their distinctive calls further emphasising that spring is the season and winter is past.

Towards the start of our walk I photographed a subject that I'd photographed (and posted before). The track that goes through the woods that form part of the National Golf Centre, with its three courses, is a public footpath. This landscape is what is usually known as lowland heath. Silver birches and oaks are common in the woods and flashes of yellow gorse can be seen all year round. Here, however, the folly of the Victorians is also very evident because in several places the woodland is choked by rhododendrons. These will be spectacular when they are in full flower in a couple of weeks time but for the rest of the year they will be a dense mass of glossy greenery. But in the area of my photograph it is the slender silver birches that predominate making the woodland light, bright and almost cheery.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Nikon D5300
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 18mm (27mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/125 sec
ISO:100
Exposure Compensation: -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Hornsea beach tracks

click photo to enlarge

It occurred to me the other day that during my life I've flip-flopped from one side of the country to the other. I was born in Westmorland (now Cumbria) and raised in the western Yorkshire Dales, moved to the city of Hull for a while, then went back to north-west England for many years, and latterly re-located to Lincolnshire. During all but my early life I was a keen photographer, never specialising in anything in particular, but rather dipping my toe into many of the recognised genres. I suppose that architecture, landscape and natural history have figured large in my output, and of course, down the years I've shot many thousands of family snaps.

In the past decade, as I've spent more time with my camera, I've deliberately selected a few specific subjects and begun building collections of images. Examples of this include spiral staircases, motion blur, and the subject of today's photograph, tracks in the landscape. Lincolnshire's man-made landscape is the place where I began to notice these man-made intrusions, and where the sinuous, sometimes semi-abstract quality, that they impart first impacted on me.

Wheatfields and barley fields offer good opportunities for this kind of photography. The former sometimes provide intriguing examples that appear to have no beginning. But pasture can have good tracks too, and land freshly prepared for a salad crop offered one of the craziest examples I've come across. I've also photographed these tracks on sandy beaches where they temporarily hold a record of cleaning vehicles or the launching of boats. Today's photograph is an example of the latter that I took on a recent visit to Hornsea in East Yorkshire. This seaside resort on a long, sandy coastline, has a small fishing fleet that specialises in brown crabs and lobsters. The boats are launched and brought in by tractor, and this recovery offered an opportunity to add another shot to my "tracks" collection.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 24mm
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/640 sec
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Playing in the great outdoors

click photo to enlarge
According to a recent survey by the National Trust 38% of Britain's children spend less than one hour outside each day, and about a quarter spend more than 14 hours a week in front of a television or a computer screen. In the same survey the favourite memory for the vast majority of parents involved playing outside.

My favourite memory of childhood would also be of playing outside, in my case on the limestone uplands of the Yorkshire Dales: exploring caves, streams and rivers and woods, catching fish, watching wildlife, taking home leaves and flowers to identify. When I was young most children were allowed to roam the area in and around the market town where I lived. It wasn't unusual for a group of us to come across another band of children playing in the fields or on the hills, perhaps making dens out of the scree at the bottom of a cliff. During my walks in that same area today I never see children, either accompanied or unaccompanied. In fact, I don't often see people below the age of forty taking their leisure in the countryside, so perhaps this particular rot set it many years ago!

One of the pleasures of growing up is discovering the beauty that is all around us; the plant and animal life, and the history, that is freely available to us all, almost regardless of where we live. We are so much the poorer if our main experience of the world is mediated through television or computers. Direct experience, looking closely at our surroundings, finding out things for ourselves, experiencing the freedom to wander, is crucial to the rounded development of children, and provides them with enjoyment and healthy activity at very little cost. The safety concerns of parents and society, that lead to children being restricted, are greatly overstated and need to be toned down otherwise today's children, when they are adults, will be citing their favourite memory of childhood as reaching Level X of Computer Game Y!

As I was photographing this track that cuts through a wheatfield on the gently rolling hills near the village of Folkingham, Lincolnshire, I wondered where it went to, and what was at the end of it. As a child I'd have followed it to find out. I'd like to think there are still some village children who are doing that sort of thing today. What appealed to me about this shot was the mutiple lines of the track, the way its arc was almost followed by the line of the clouds, and how the area of blue above nicely echoed the area of dark grass below.

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 11mm (22mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/640 seconds
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On