Road signs, footpaths and barley

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We were heading for the south of Northamptonshire to do a little walking and the signs were not good. In fact, the signs themselves were fine, but the trees had grown so that half of each one by the side of most major roads could not be read. Northamptonshire County Council or the Highways Agency or whoever is responsible for making sure road signs can be clearly seen hadn't been cutting the trees back and so, a couple of times, we went astray.

Had I thought more deeply about this I'd have realised that this was a taste of things to come, and in fact, the signs were definitely bad. The realisation that Northampton isn't "walking country" hit us after we'd ventured only a couple of hundred yards into some fields on a footpath. The council's waymarks were old, inaccurately placed to indicate the direction of the route, frequently missing, and invariably so faded that any information they once held was no longer legible. Those faults dogged us for several hours as we tried to follow paths marked on the Ordnance Survey map. The fact that many routes showed no sign of anyone having walked them before us didn't help. Occasionally we could see that a solitary walker had passed the way we were going, but such signs were rare.

I can't account for what we discovered in this part of the country. Yes, it is farmland, but it is varied, hilly, wooded, and visually and historically interesting: a more attractive area in which to walk than some that we know that are better waymarked and more frequented. Today's photograph shows my wife, map in hand walking up a hill one evening through ripening barley. This path was unusual in that other people had walked it, but all too common in that the farmer didn't appear to have cut the way of the path - walkers had trampled down the line of the route. Reflecting as we walked, I could only surmise that the absence of walkers is due to the fact that in many people's minds walking can only be undertaken in recognised "walking areas" - the Lake District, the Yorkshire Dales, Dartmoor, the Peak District etc when in fact it is a pleasurable, informative and photographically rewarding undertaking almost anywhere in Britain.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 14mm (28mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/1000 sec
ISO:200
Exposure Compensation: -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Autumn at Woodhall Spa

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On a recent overcast day, we took a six or seven mile stroll through some woods and lanes in Lincolnshire, a county that is, in the popular consciousness, a treeless place. Our starting point was the village of Woodhall Spa, a place whose very name suggests that it may be a wooded spot. Located between the chalk and the limestone, Woodhall Spa features heather and bracken, many tree types including silver birch, beech and oak, and has soil that can support the widespread rhododendrons that the Victorians and Edwardians planted. Mature woodland adjoins and penetrates the large village and mature trees can be seen in many gardens. For anyone who doesn't know Woodhall Spa the late John Betjeman called it "that half-timbered Bournemouth-like settlement", a description that sums up the look and feel of the place quite well.

The English National Golf Centre and its courses are found here. Apparently - and I'm no golfer so I can't attest to this - the Hotchkin Course is a classic British heathland course and was voted "25th best course in the world" by Golf World Magazine. What I do know is that a public footpath winds through the courses and adjacent woodlands and the semi-wild landscape makes quite a nice start to a ramble from the village centre. On our walk the colours of the autumn leaves were just starting to decline in intensity but were still very attractive, and I managed a few shots as we followed a track through a tunnel of trees. In the one above my photographic assistant - aka my wife - was persuaded to be the focal point in the "tunnel".

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 183mm
F No: f6.3
Shutter Speed: 1/200
ISO: 1250
Exposure Compensation:  -0.67 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Football, journalism and snow

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Does the journalism that we consume through our newspapers, TV, radio, the internet and the rest reflect the way the general public sees things. Whilst each medium clearly is a mouthpiece for its owner and the chosen editor, it should surely seek to mirror, in some way, the views of the intended readership. I pondered this question as I glanced at the column inches devoted to the fact that the UK is not to host either of the next two football (soccer) world cups. The build up to the FIFA vote was headline news across the country, as was the "dream team" of Prime Minister David Cameron, Prince William and David Beckham, who were all wheeled out to promote the bid. Then there was the sub-plot to the main story - a programme on BBC TV that exposed the "money for votes" corruption and the self-serving nature of the whole selection process - which the papers saw as an unpatriotic "spoiler" that had the potential to scupper the UK's chances. In the event the UK had no chance, got nowhere near being selected, and after that fact became known the newspaper stories turned to either the heartbreak and anguish of it all or to the perfidy of the process.
 
None of this reflected my feelings, or as far as I'm aware, the feelings of anyone I know well. A great many people were as indifferent to whether or not we hosted the world cup as they were to the Olympics being here, and certainly felt that greasing the palms of narcissistic FIFA was demeaning. The whole episode did offer a little humour in the area of journalistic fawning however. The example that made me laugh out loud was the BBC radio presenter who, before playing a recorded clip of David Beckham's words of support, described it as "eloquent". Now David Beckham has been, and may still be, a good footballer, but eloquent he ain't. And so the extract proved, each sentence seeming to include a "you know" or an "obviously", or both, the whole passage a jumble of unremarkable and awkwardly assembled thoughts.


As I thought abut what I might do with my day I decided not to join my fellow citizens in an orgy of wailing and teeth-gnashing as we ponder a world-cupless future for the UK, and instead went for an afternoon walk with my wife and my camera in the hope of securing at least one reasonable snowy photograph. These were the best I came up with - my wife "Nordic walking" across the fields, and a shot of some old fleur-de-lys topped railings around a grave in the local churchyard - the latter a shot similar to one of the same subject covered in hoar frost that I posted a while ago.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Photo 1 (Photo 2)
Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 24mm (300mm)
F No: f8 (6.3)
Shutter Speed: 1/500 (1/320)
ISO: 100 (800)
Exposure Compensation: 0 (+0.33) EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Woodland

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It's good that the area of the UK covered in trees is increasing year on year, and has now climbed to 12% of the total land area. Woodland is important as a wildlife habitat, landscape element, recreational resource, carbon sink, and source of fuel and raw materials.

But, whilst the UK has a slightly greater amount of woodland cover than the Netherlands (11%) it has a long way to go to reach the level of our continental neighbours such as France (28.3%) and Germany (31.7%). Moreover it trails the European Union average (37.8%) by a big margin. It's also unfortunate that more than half of the UK's present woods are coniferous plantations whose biodiversity, landscape and recreational potential is substantially less than that of broadleaved woodland.

A while ago I read, "The History of the Countryside", Oliver Rackham's important work on Britain's landscape, flora and fauna. It gave me a more informed insight into the decline of our woodlands and scotched a few myths that still infect debate about this subject - neither the contruction of Britain's navy nor the early iron industry were, it seems, major contributors to the loss of woodland. It also helped me to understand the key difference between traditional, sustainable forms of forestry and the current practice. Modern methods of wood production are likened by Rackham to the growing of vegetables: you plant a sapling, nurture it until it is a size to crop, then cut it down, removing all trace of it from the ground. The older method usually involved a cycle of coppicing, where limbs were harvested from the tree in such a way that it encouraged more growth. Wood was harvested every several years, and the tree continued in production for hundreds of years. More enlightened woodland management is re-discovering the value of coppicing not only in economic terms, but also for biodiversity.

The place where I now live, Lincolnshire, isn't the first English county that one thinks of in terms of woodland. However, it does have a few spots where trees grow in relative plenty. One such, as the name suggests, is Woodhall Spa, where I took this photograph of my wife walking through the sylvan, early autumn landscape.

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 79mm (158mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f6.3
Shutter Speed: 1/160
ISO: 200
Exposure Compensation: -1.0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Thinking about walking

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When I was a youngster the act of donning boots, picking up a rucksack, and walking on the hills, or in the countryside in general, was called "hiking." These days it appears to be called "walking", which is a much less specific word, though sometimes it's also known as "trekking", a grander term conjuring up images of months long journeys in distant lands. During the intervening years walking was often called "rambling", perhaps after the organisation that sought (and still seeks) to promote the pastime in Britain, The Rambler's Association (now, apparently, known as Ramblers.)

Whatever we choose to call walking in the country it's something I've done for pleasure all my life. In most instances I've done it in company with my wife, or as a family when our children were younger and still lived with us. Before I was married I often chose to walk alone. Only on one occasion have I walked in a group with the Ramblers, though at other times I've walked with friends. Today when my wife and I go walking (we never go separately) we usually see walkers who are alone, or we see couples. I've often wondered about this. Do lone walkers choose to walk by themselves, or have they a partner left at home who doesn't care for this activity? And do couples walk together because they both enjoy it, or is there often a reluctant walker being dragged along by an enthusiast? My feeling is that walking alone or with someone you know very well are the best ways to enjoy this activity. In both cases you can get physical exercise whilst looking at the sights, as well as enjoying getting lost in your own thoughts about what you see and experience. Periods of silence are much easier with someone you know well: when you walk in larger groups the problem for me is that chat too often intrudes on the communing with nature - though I know that some find conversation part of the point of going walking.

Recently, as we were passing through the area known as Attermire, near Settle in North Yorkshire, we came upon a lone walker travelling in the opposite direction. We exchanged greetings, then, a couple of minutes after he'd gone by, I turned to see him paused at the top of a steep slope surveying the view, and I took this photograph of him, a small figure in a big space. This is one of those images that completely misrepresents the landscape because out of view to the left are drystone walls, scree and cliffs that rise up high above the path, to the right are the rugged limestone tops of Warrendale Knotts, and beyond the walker the track and the land falls away to a level area of marsh - an unusual occurence in an area of limestone upland - that is surrounded on two sides by more cliffs, scree and caves.

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 150mm (300mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/1600
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -1.0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Penyghent and walking

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I've just spent a few days in the small Yorkshire Dales market town of Settle, the place in which I grew up. From the town you can look north and see, five or six miles away, the peak called Penyghent, one of the "Three Peaks". This mountain, along with Ingleborough and Whernside form a trio of summits that constitute a well-known walk. Moreover, the side of Penyghent that faces down the valley of the Ribble to Settle, also has a track that forms part of the long-distance footpath called "The Pennine Way" - named after the range of hills and mountains that the 267 mile trail follows.

Each time I go to Settle I gaze at Penyghent to see if the Pennine Way path is visible, and each year the scar that it makes grows more obvious. When I was young an enclosure-period drystone wall climbing up the slope and cliffs was all that the naked eye could see from where I lived. But, by the late 1960s, the track was succumbing to the erosion of thousands of booted feet and it was becoming ever more clear. Today it is an irregular gash many tens of yards wide in places. Repair work by the National Parks authority has not mitigated the disfigurement. I remember, in my 20s, someone asking where I came from. When I replied Settle, the person said, "Oh, you'll have done the Three Peaks Walk then". My response, that I wouldn't do that walk because of the damage it does to the area, was seen as odd, even offensive. But, it's a view I still hold today. The Three Peaks Walk, and the Pennine Way, seem to be undertaken by people who regard walking as a challenge rather than an exploration, or a literal and metaphorical path to greater understanding and appreciation of a landscape. Their physical and psychological needs seem to be superior to the needs of the environment in which they pursue their hobby, and the effect is there for all to see.

The photograph above was taken on a walk over Giggleswick Scars. The shadows of the clouds and the beautiful autumn light and colour gave the scene an attractive quality that I tried to capture. The track that so offends me, mercifully, isn't visible in this shot and this light!

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 40mm (80mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/800
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -0.7 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Walking and clicking

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There are lots of ways to secure good photographs, but recently I've been thinking about two contrasting approaches. The first involves getting on an aeroplane or ship, or into a car and travelling to a distant, preferably foreign location, often with a pack of other photographers, and snapping away for a couple of weeks. I think of this as the "Luminous Landscape" approach to photography because each time I have a look at that website I see images taken on such trips to India, Africa, the Antarctic or some other far flung land. Now it's perfectly possible to get good images in this way, but it's also extremely easy to fill your camera with cliches, as you're seduced by the novelty of what you see.

The other approach is to regularly walk around the area in which you live at different times of day, in different seasons, and in different kinds of weather. Now it's perfectly possible to get bad images this way! But, because you are familiar with the area, and because the subject matter is more limited you have look more closely to find your photographs. And therein, I think, lies the benefit of this second approach - you are more likely to learn the key skill of photography, and you have a better chance of coming up with some original images.

I make no great claims for originality for today's photograph, taken as I walked around Boston, Lincolnshire. I like shadows, and I like positive/negative effects, and this composition appealed to me because it embraces both of these characteristics. The palm is in the garden of the white Regency date house, but its shadow is thrown onto its adjoining brick-faced neighbour (of the same period). I converted the image to black and white to emphasise the qualities I liked.

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 53mm (106mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/400
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -1.0EV
Image Stabilisation: Off

Walking and computers

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There seems to be a general feeling that computers are good for democracy. Supporters of this viewpoint cite the Chinese government's restriction of its citizens' access to the internet as telling evidence of the proposition. And it's undoubtedly true that they give the individual in a society access to information, the means to manipulate and interpret it, and the power to communicate with the like-minded and our politicians.

However, computers can also be used in an anti-democratic way too. Most notably they allow governments, through the amassing and manipulating of data, to believe that they are in a better position to direct and organise society, than are local people and local politicians: they are a dangerous, centralising force. Take the current panic over childhood obesity. The government has collected data, is collecting more, and has come up with an answer - more physical activity in schools. Surely I'm not alone in thinking that if overweight children is the problem, then making them jump about in schools isn't the answer. But, computers in the government's education department know, to the minute (they think), how much physical activity school children undertake each week, and it's not enough! So the decree went out that all, throughout the country, should receive a minimum of two hours weekly during school time. Money was spent, organisers were appointed, and a grand strategy involving webs of high schools with feeder primaries were urged into action. It will have virtually no effect! Child obesity will only be solved by deep-seated life-style changes that include eating better and eating less, and walking and cycling more. This involves government leaning on food companies, planning for bikes and pedestrians, restricting cars, and yes, education, but in the widest sense. However, those strategies don't make politicians very popular. It's much easier to have a grand, trumpeted, school-based initiative and look like you're doing something!

One thing I've started to notice is that when I go walking the majority of the people I see doing it for pleasure are "older" people. If I go to the "honey-pot" locations like the Lake District, the balance shifts towards the younger end, and organised groups of children and young teens can be seen. But elsewhere it's mainly the "oldies" - like my wife and I - people for whom walking has been a lifelong way of getting about, and a source of enjoyment. The photograph shows my wife climbing a stile over a limestone wall on Gigglewick Scars in the Yorkshire Dales. I framed the shot so the wall acts as a line leading to the figure, or from the figure into the surroundings. The image was taken with a wide zoom lens at 44mm (35mm equivalent), with the camera set to Aperture Priority (f6.3 at 1/400 second), ISO 100, with -1.0EV.

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen