Wind, cycling and wheat

click photo to enlarge

People who don't cycle think that the main problem with this form of transport is the big lumps of metal and rubber that flash past you at high speed. They're not wrong; motorised road traffic spoils cycling, though not as much as might be imagined. They also think that the second problem is rain. In that assumption they are wrong, because wind is much more of an issue than the wet stuff. For many years I chose to cycle to and from work, and for much of my life, I've been a reasonably regular recreational cyclist. Not a stripped down, day-glo, skin-tight clothing, head down, bum in the air, hell-for-leather kind of cyclist, but a saunter along with my wife, panniers full of camera and lunch, let's stop here and have a look around sort of cyclist. And, while rain can, literally and metaphorically, put a dampener on your day, a strong head-wind will usually do it to much greater effect. In fact, as far as cycling in the rain goes, the adage that I've heard in connection with walking applies: "there's no such thing as bad weather, only the wrong clothing". Non-cyclists think that the cold is a problem too when you cycle. It isn't because in those circumstances the bike's in-built heating system can be applied: if you're cold pedal harder and you're soon warm! No, when it comes to the unpleasant side of cycling, for me its motor vehicles and wind, and, I almost forgot, rutted ice on the road.

Consequently, when a few days of cloud with strong and gusty winds was replaced by a day of calm with sunshine and cloud, I took to my bicycle and headed out into the fens. I came back with photographs of wind turbines and sheep. I've said elsewhere in this blog that I make a conscious effort, not always successfully, to remind myself to vary aspects of my photography. "Take more contre jour shots" or "Add to your collection of motion blur shots", I say to myself. Another one is, "Take more shots from a low viewpoint". When I parked my bicycle against a gate near a wind farm it was that last thought that came to mind. So I stepped into a field of short winter wheat that was greening up nicely and took this photograph from down amongst it. My bike with its single pannier and bar bag - great containers for carrying photographic necessities - added a point of interest to the shot.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 24mm
F No: f8
Shutter Speed: 1/250 sec
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

The Fens

click photo to enlarge

The Fenlands of Eastern England is a flat, low-lying region of about 1500 square miles in the counties of Lincolnshire, Norfolk, Cambridgeshire and a small area of Suffolk. It includes a large amount of land that has been reclaimed from marshes and the coast. The Fens contain half of the Grade 1 farmland of England - the most productive of our agricultural land. More than a third of vegetables grown in the open are cultivated in this area. It also produces a large cereal crop, and retains small herds of sheep and cattle, animals that were formerly much more numerous in this part of the country, and which, in the case of sheep, accounted for its prosperity during the medieval period.

It is said that in the Fens three-quarters of the the landscape is sky. It is certainly true that big skies are a feature of the area, and photographers who take pictures in this region soon learn to use them to their advantage. In a talk about photography that I gave recently I said that Fenland photographers usually tilt their cameras down or up, and rarely have them level. A level camera tends to produce a shot that splits the composition roughly equally between earth and sky, a distribution that is, I think, the least visually satisfying of the possibilities. When photographing in the Fens I often consciously choose either two-thirds sky or two-thirds land, deliberately giving emphasis to one or the other. Sometimes I give an even greater fraction to the sky.

Today's photograph does the latter. On the January day that I took this shot the sky was largely overcast but with subtle hues and shading. A low, late afternoon sun was illuminating the fields and the distant wind farm, making the white turbines stand out against the dark sky. They provided the main subject that I needed to compose an image that included the lone tree, distant farms, frost-hammered vegetables and that big sky.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 70mm
F No: 7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/100
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -0.67 EV
Image Stabilisation: On 

Perceptions

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Sometimes things aren't what they seem, our perceptions are distorted, and a changing viewpoint or a close inspection is required to reveal the underlying reality. Take UK politics and government. Most British people grow up thinking they live in a parliamentary democracy run by politicians who, to a greater or lesser extent, subscribe to a political agenda that is distinct from that of the other politicians who form an opposition. However, the current coalition government has disabused a lot of people of this rather naive idea, supplying a different perspective that has provoked this insight. Seeing politicians of different parties working together has hardened the cynicism of many and made them realise that a lot of those who seek public office are simply chancers looking to enrich themselves and their social group at the expense of the rest of the populace. Our prime minister and deputy prime minister come across as a pair of "Blair wannabes", both distinctly "Blair-lite", frantically adopting the former Labour PM's earnest, direct, "personal" approach to winning the electorate's support, both spouting drivel about us all being "in this together" whilst carrying out the same old "bash and demonise the poor" and "favour the rich" policies of old. Whether enough of the electorate see through this to make a difference when it comes to the next election (or when the coalition crumbles) is open to doubt. But, the sight of politicians grubbily ditching their principles in order to grab power must surely cause many voters to think more deeply about what they themselves believe in, and to try and cast their ballot accordingly.

And the connection with today's photograph of wind turbines and electricity pylons? Wind farms have a way of seeming to be both relatively small and quite big. From several miles away the towers can seem enormous. Get a bit closer and the huge towers tend to shrink. Get very close and they appear both big and not so big at one and the same time. I still haven't worked out why my perceptions change in this way. A few days ago, however, I took this photograph which, to my mind, does say something about their size. I came upon this, for me, different view as I scanned them with my lens. I liked the way the very big pylon (about as big as they get in the UK) is dwarfed by the pair of turbines that sandwich it.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 119mm (238mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f6.3
Shutter Speed: 1/1000
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: 0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Including the sun

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My earliest photographic tuition came in the form of a free booklet from Kodak that gave tips for securing better images. I must have been about sixteen years of age and had recently acquired my first camera when I read it. This slight tome, smaller than A5, with its yellow and red cover, listed the usual advice - photograph with the sun behind you, don't tilt the camera up or down if you want to avoid converging verticals, don't place a person in the dead centre but look for a balanced asymmetrical composition, etc. It was, by and large, sound advice for the beginner photographer. As I progressed with my photography, however, I came to see that these rules were best seen as useful guidance that should sometimes be ignored.

The piece of advice that I've most frequently disregarded was the injunction to "keep the sun out of the viewfinder (except at sunrise and sunset)". The advent of digital has found me frequently, deliberately, including the sun for the dramatic quality that it gives to the image. Why has digital encouraged me in this regard? Well, I can have immediate feedback on the camera's LCD of the effect that I've captured. And, the processing of digital images on a computer has given me much more control over the final output. Moreover, with the cost of each digital exposure being, essentially, "free" (certainly compared with film), there is much more scope for experimentation with a subject that produces more "duds" than many others.

Today's photograph was taken towards sunset over the Lincolnshire Fens. The sky, however, didn't have that red/orange sunset feel; the sun itself was still quite white. But, there were thin clouds veiling it, and the brightness was enough to illuminate the heads of the long grass alongside the lane we were walking down. I thought they would make good foreground interest in an image of the flat landscape with its wind turbines and electricity pylons, and I hoped that the inclusion of the sun would add its own drama too. And, with a little post-processing, so it proved.

This earlier blog post also considers deiberately including the sun in your photographs.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Lumix LX3
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 12.8mm (60mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f4
Shutter Speed: 1/1000
ISO: 80
Exposure Compensation: -0.66 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Energy, turbines and magic

click photo to enlarge
It's nothing short of remarkable how, in the past couple of hundred years, mankind's use of energy has grown from a barely measurable amount to 500 Exajoules (2005).

Before, say, 1700 most energy came from man and animal power, from burning wood and some coal, and from wind and water. And, in most cases it was consumed at the place where it was generated. Today, in the form of coal, gas and oil, energy is often transported across the world before consumption, just like many other traded commodities. And even when it is generated in the country in which it is used, electrical energy is transmitted to centres of population and industries by a grid of wires. In the past the windmill's power was used where the windmill stood - either for grinding corn that was brought to it, pumping water that was immediately adjacent, or sawing wood from nearby trees, and most were in or near settlements. In contrast the windmills of today, the 100m high wind turbines that generate electricity, are often sited where there are few people - on hills, offshore, or as with those in today's photograph, in a sparsely populated agricultural area - in this case the Fenland of Lincolnshire.

One could wish that energy generation was less intrusive upon the landscape: nuclear and coal fired plants are big eyesores, and many find wind turbines just as objectionable. However, just as there are people who are capable of appreciating the looming bulk and man-made clouds of cooling towers, so too are there those who see beauty in the wind turbines. To walk around these otherworldy creatures under a blue sky flecked with cloud, the swish of the blades and the flicker of their giant shadows the only disturbance to a beautiful summer afternoon is not an unpleasant experience. In many ways a wind farm becomes more appealing the closer you get to it, and what can appear to be a blot on the horizon transforms into something with a hint of magic about it when you stand among them.

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 15mm (30mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/500 seconds
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -0.7 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Wind power at Skegness

click photo to enlarge
Kite buggies shouldn't be a problem. The coast of the British Isles has many large areas of flat sand that should be able to be used by different interest groups without conflict, and, by and large that is the case. However, the growing popularity of these wind-powered leisure vehicles, particularly their use in areas heavily frequented by the general public, has provoked increasing numbers of complaints about dangerous, high speed driving. This has led to some local authorities placing restrictions on the areas and times when they can be used, or in some cases (for example Lytham St Annes) outright bans.

When kites were harnessed to surf boards problems of this sort rarely arose because the area of sea available for kite-boarding is vast, and the number of other users of the water, in most places, is few. However, buggy riders have been their own worst enemies by too often choosing to pursue their sport on busy beaches used by day-trippers, dog walkers, fishermen and others. The national and local organizations that support the sport seem to realise the need for compromise, and make every effort to urge riders to use less frequented areas. However, newcomers to the pastime, and individuals who crave an audience for their tricks, seem heedless. I've come across buggies being erratically driven at speeds up to 40 mph on Fleetwood beach in Lancashire, throwing up showers of shingle with every hard turn, and making walkers wonder whether they were going to be mown down.

The other day, on the Lincolnshire coast at Skegness, I saw this lone buggy zipping up and down the beach . It was well-controlled, had the sands virtually to itself, and made an interesting sight as the driver coaxed power out of the onshore breeze. On a warmer day in summer, when the visitors from England's Midlands throng the beach, it would probably be better elsewhere. However, in the spring sunshine the buggy was doing no harm and made a good foreground subject for this photographer who was able to frame it in front of the offshore wind farm he was snapping.

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 83mm (166mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/2000 seconds
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -1.0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Appreciating clouds

click photo to enlarge

I am one of the 13,175 (and counting) fully paid up members of The Cloud Appreciation Society, an organisation that proclaims the beauty and interest of clouds, that fights the banality of "blue sky thinking", and urges everyone to live life with their head in the clouds!

It's not surprising that this UK-based organisation has found more than half its membership in this group of islands: the British Isles are noted, not always favourably, for the clouds that stream overhead. However, members can be found across the world, in 66 very different countries, so it is obvious that elsewhere there are people who walk around looking upwards, appreciating the beauty of the meteorological phenomenon that makes our planet (as far as we know) unique.

If, like me, you can't conceive of living in a place where clouds don't form part of your everyday experience, and you want to maximise the pleasure that this marvel of nature offers, then you could do worse than visit the Cloud Appreciation Society's website. Here you will find information about types of cloud, photographs that illustrate the beauty of clouds, images of clouds that look like animals and objects, cloud art, poetry and prose, and much more.

I was thinking about the beauty of clouds (and this inexpensive, fun Society) as I took this photograph of a Lincolnshire wind farm. The past week has produced some particularly lovely skies, and I was pleased to be able to use these very three-dimensional fair weather clouds (stratocumulus) as a backdrop to the turbines.

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 12mm (24mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f11
Shutter Speed: 1/500
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Wind power

click photo to enlarge

A new wind farm has recently appeared on the Fens of Lincolnshire. I've taken an interest in its construction, making several journeys to watch the turbines being erected. On each occasion I met people doing the same thing. One man had an interest in cranes, and had come to see the particularly large machine that was used to erect the columns, nacelle and blades. Others were fascinated by the size, shape and otherworldliness of the turbines. And quite a few recognised the significance of the appearance of these modern windmills in this flat landscape that once held a multitude of windmills and windpumps.

Perhaps those who went to view the erection of the wind farm were a self-selected group who harbour no ill-feeling towards these giants, but it surprised me to find that everyone I met was favourably disposed towards them. Many commented on their elegance and beauty. Some said they were greatly preferable to the electricity pylons. Quite a few recognised the necessity for more environmental forms of power generation, and the need for the electricity to be controlled entirely by our own national government. There was none of the "not in my backyard" (nimbyism) that often characterises the debate about wind turbines, and, whilst I know that what I heard was not representative of all public opinion, it did give me hope that a change is underway.

Today's photograph shows nine of the thirteen turbines seen across an almost ripe barley field. A strong wind is blowing away the fair-weather clouds, and replacing them with a more threatening sky. Some say that turbines are a visual abomination that spoil the view. Such people are usually condemning change and the loss of the familiar. They forget (if they ever knew) that our beloved, "timeless" English landscape of carefully tended fields, trees and farms would be unrecognisable and probably abhorrent to our forebears of only a century or two ago. In the Fens, and elsewhere, change will and must happen, and even a wind farm can make a positive contribution, if only people cast aside their blinkers and let their eyes see it!

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 20mm (40mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f11
Shutter Speed: 1/320
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -0.7 EV
Image Stabilisation: On