The sunset cliché

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The biggest clichés in photography are generally thought to be the sunset and the sunrise. With the possible exception of babies and, perhaps, cats and dogs, (and not forgetting, in recent years, food on plates!) these two subjects must account for more photographs than any other. If you want to stake a claim to photographic credibility make sure you steer clear of sunsets and sunrises!

Why this should be I don't know. Each is a splendid phenomenon, and each is unique -  no two sunsets or sunrises are the same. Fine artists down the centuries have thought them to be just as worthy of depiction as any other subject, and inventiveness has been given full rein in conjuring up a different take on this familiar composition. This blog has several examples, all different, and to the photographer, all worthy of recording. I make no great claim for them though some are better than others as photographs, but I also make no apology for photographing them either.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Photo Title: Fenland Sunset with Pylons and Wind Turbines
Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 37.1mm (100mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f4.9
Shutter Speed: 1/800 sec
ISO:125
Exposure Compensation: -0.7EV

Windless turbines

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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

Wind turbine repairs

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There's nothing secluded or furtive about the generation of electricity by wind turbines. Not only are the windmills themselves very tall, white, often in groups and consequently visible for miles, they also move and so the eye can't help but notice them. And it's those eye-catching qualities that, in the main, cause them to be unpopular. I say "in the main" because there is a significant minority who like them not only for what they do - the generation of "greener" energy - but also for what they are. Such people see beauty, elegance and the future in these tall machines.

However, one characteristic of all machines, be they traditional or leading edge, is their capacity to fail, to break down and to require repair and maintenance. You can often see individual turbines completely still, looking like a sullen schoolboy who hasn't been allowed to join the game, facing a completely different direction from that of its companions. These are frequently accompanied by a white van parked at the base and an open door in the column signifying the presence of an engineer. Given the conspicuousness of wind turbines it follows that when any work is being done on them, it is obvious for all to see, and not just in the form of the van. I posted a photograph last year of workmen abseiling down the blades of a turbine as they went about their repair work

The other day we saw across the fields a large crane next to a turbine and immediately knew it was receiving care and attention. On the following day I went to see what was going on and heard that a gearbox had been replaced. The crane that is capable of reaching the hub of one of these monsters was moving objects about on the ground in preparation for more work so I wasn't able to photograph it at its full height. But, I did get a distant shot of it at work. I also took a photograph of  a couple of men busy on the nacelle. As I drove home I reflected that repairing wind turbines isn't the sort of work I'd like to be involved in. The views must be great but the wind, the rain and not least the height and precariousness of your workplace are not to be envied.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Photo 1
Camera: Nikon D5300
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 140mm (210mm - 35mm equiv.) (heavy crop)
F No: f8
Shutter Speed: 1/500 sec
ISO:100
Exposure Compensation: 0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Dogs and me

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Many years ago, when my children were young we were on a beach in Lancashire when a large dog came racing towards us, ignoring the shouted commands of its owner. It jumped up at my sons, towering over them, frightening them, almost knocking them down. That was one of the few occasions in my life I've come up with a retort that I couldn't improve on after the event. I said to the dog owner, as she ran up assuring us that it "only wanted to play", "There's nothing like a well-trained dog, and that's nothing like a well-trained dog." My observation-cum-complaint didn't go down well with the owner, but then that was my intention. I must surely have heard those words somewhere before, I can't imagine I thought them up myself. But they came out with perfect timing as though they were all mine.

I have nothing against dogs. We had them when I was a child and I enjoyed them. I've known and liked many dogs that are good-tempered and well-trained. But I've also come across plenty that are none of these things due to the improper care they receive, or the way they are used to protect property, especially if it's a farm through which a public footpath runs. For many years I thought I'd have a dog when I retired, but I've reached the conclusion that a dog would restrict what we do far too much, so I'm very likely to remain dogless.

The other week, when were on Skegness beach, that episode with my children and the dog came to mind once more. It often does when we see dog walkers on a beach. I well understand the desire of owners to let their dogs run free in the wide open space because the animals visibly enjoy the experience. I just wish those who have no control over their dogs wouldn't do so. However, I'm pleased to say that those providing the human and doggy interest in today's photograph were impeccably behaved.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 31.8mm (86mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/800 sec
ISO:125
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Snapshots, dog walkers and wind turbines

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The words "snapshot" and "snap" in connection with photography seem to have pretty much disappeared from use by all but people over the age of, say, fifty. That's a pity because the first word very well describes the act of quickly seeing and taking a photograph without indulging in the lengthy consideration that might be taken with, for example, a landscape. It is a very appropriate word for the sort of shot that is frequently used in street, wildlife or sport photography. "Snap" for a routine or quickly taken photograph is also a useful term. In these days of smart phone cameras and the impromptu shots that they are often employed for, one wonders why the word isn't more widely used.

Snapshot, snapshooting and snaps came to photography from the world of shooting with firearms - rifles, shotguns and pistols. Quickly taken shots at game, targets or even people, were so described in the Victorian era, and are often still described with these words. I'm not the sort of photographer whose output relies heavily on snapshots but I do take photographs rapidly when I want to include people (those who are unknown to me) in my photographs because I usually have a very clear idea where I want them to be in the overall composition. Moreover, for reasons lost in the mists of time, all my digital photographs are in folders that are described with the word "Snaps" followed by the year.

The other day, when walking over the sand and dunes towards the sea at Skegness in Lincolnshire I took a snapshot. A dog walker appeared on a low dune ahead of us. He was silhouetted against the sky, with the sea and wind turbines behind him and a large pool in the foreground. I knew that he would soon be less visible against the sky so I started firing off a series of snapshots having first decided that I wanted a vertical composition with the main interest towards the top of the frame. Today's photograph is the second of four snaps that I took and it came out rather better than I imagined it would. That's another interesting thing about snapshooting: because it's quick you have hits and misses, and the hits, because they are not arranged to the last detail, have a surprise element that often makes them more rewarding than shots where everything turns out as planned.

Incidentally, I often wonder what I'd do without the scale and human interest that dog walkers offer when I'm photographing in the open spaces beside water or on sea-shore grass and dunes.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 37.1mm (100mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/1000 sec
ISO:125
Exposure Compensation: -0.7 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Cameras tell lies

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Doesn't this Fenland scene look calm, idyllic and bountiful? I think so. The luxuriant wheat is flawless, even the tractor's oval of tracks so orderly that it barely mars the perfection of the growing crop. A solitary wind turbine, a piece of modern technology both reviled and admired, stands pristine over the fields, slowly turning and making its small (2MW) contribution to the nation's energy needs. Above, the unblemished sky adds to the feeling of everything in its place and all being well under heaven. What a lie!

I took today's photograph from the steps of another wind turbine, its electrical hum and the steady swish of its blades slicing the air, loud in my ears. Another eleven turbines and an electrical sub-station, all off to the right and behind me added to the controlled clamour, while behind and to the left lines of electrical pylons marched across similar fields like rows of giants holding hands. The evening scene and the appearance of the countryside in this particular location  was eminently open to manipulation and, with my selective viewpoint, I exploited the opportunity.

In fact, that's what photographers do all the time: they choose a small part of their field of view and try to ensure that it contains only those things that help to tell the story enclosed in their image. And the truth is, as often as not, that photographic image - that people assume is entirely representational - ends up being as much fiction as fact!

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 15.5mm (42mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/250
ISO: 125
Exposure Compensation:  -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Mending the wind turbine

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The theoretical output of a wind farm does not equal the actual output. Anyone who lives in the vicinity of a site with multiple turbines will know that frequently, while most of them spin and generate their electricity, one or two stand stationary, unco-operative, almost looking like they are sulking and refusing to join in. It's at these times that you see a van parked at the base of the sullen turbine, the entry door at the tower base open, with a worker inside persuading it to join its comrades in making their joint effort at energy generation.

However, sometimes the fault is of a nature that requires more than tinkering with the innards of the beast: the problem resides high up in a location that can only be accessed from the outside. In these circumstances workers with a climber's skills in abseiling are called upon. One recent morning I was cycling in the sunshine past a wind farm when I noticed a cable like a long, slender thread, hanging from the top of a motionless turbine. There was not one but THREE vans parked at its base. Clearly a three van problem was no ordinary hitch. I stopped and looked up at the hub and as I did so noticed the head of a man appear. He slowly worked his way round to the front of the turbine and began to abseil down the vertical blade. At that moment a second man appeared and followed him down, but on the opposite side.

A photo opportunity such as this was too good to miss so I took out my compact camera and began firing off shots. Whatever problem needed resolving was one that required a long rod with a piece of strong, bent wire on the end because that appeared to be the main implement being used. With movements that varied between balletic grace and the shuffling awkwardness of a spider with a few missing legs, the men moved down the turbine blade to its very tip. Then, their work presumably completed, they lowered themselves the still not inconsiderable distance to the ground. As I reviewed my shots and got back on my bicycle ready to make my way home I noticed that the company name on the side of the men's van included the name "ibex" and a picture of that wild goat of the mountains. Pedalling along the drove road it occurred to me that, on the basis of what I had seen, some type of arachnid might be a more appropriate animal to advertise their undoubted skills.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Photo 1
Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 37.1mm (100mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f6.3
Shutter Speed: 1/800
ISO: 125
Exposure Compensation:  0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Values, land and the future

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What price can be put on a piece of farmland? All land has a market value which equates with as much as someone is prepared to pay. But market value is only one measure of value: agricultural land has values that exceed that narrow measure.

Today's photograph shows a field of pasture on the Lincolnshire Fens. When I took my photograph it was looking a bit the worse for wear after a wet winter and a cold spring. But the sheep and their lambs were finding sustenance in the grass. Farther out in the field lapwings were feeding and occasionally flinging themselves through the air in their courtship flight. A buzzard was surveying the scene from one of the hedgerow trees, and through the bushes were flitting a family group of long-tailed tits. Barn owls frequently fly along the drainage ditches that border the field hoping to surprise an unsuspecting mouse or shrew, and the distinctive song of the yellowhammer can often be heard competing with that of its near relative, the reed bunting. Pasture fields are not common in the Fens where vegetable production prevails, so the value to wildlife of this piece of land is locally immense.

As it happens this land (and three nearby sites) have been shortlisted for a 49 acre substation that is to service the giant Triton Knoll wind farm that is being planned for the North Sea off the east coast. If you thought offshore turbines preferable because they didn't spoil the countryside then think again. The company that needs the substation concludes that this site and the three others it has short-listed can be built with the least environmental and socio-economic cost. The land here is categorised as Grade 2. The other sites are either Grade 1 or Grade 2. In 2011the Government published the Natural Environment White Paper "The Natural Choice: securing the value of nature" which, amongst many other things, sought to halt the decline in natural habitats, promote natural diversity and "protect our best and most versatile agricultural land" (a phrase used to describe land classified as Grade 1, Grade 2 or Grade 3a. Clearly concreting over fields such as this is completely contrary to those stated aims.

Our world of markets, money, profit and growth needs to factor into its calculations the idea of "natural capital": the land that as well as providing food, a commodity that is going to be ever more costly and in shorter supply in the future, also provides habitats for the wildlife without which our world is a dull, impoverished and arid place. The value of natural capital is enormous, eclipsing many of the more routine costs and values that are involved in everyday calculations. A proper valuation of the area of land in this photograph would result in a rethink about its suitability as a place build on.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 19.3mm (52mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f6.3
Shutter Speed: 1/800
ISO: 125
Exposure Compensation:  0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On  

Wind, cycling and wheat

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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

Energy policy and visual blight

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In recent times a disfiguring tide of supposedly environmentally beneficial technology has swept across the country, inflicting high-tech litter wherever it has flowed. The gaze of every passer-by notices the interlopers, and the eye-sores themselves will undoubtedly become semi-permanent fixtures across rural and urban landscapes. I refer, of course, to... roof-mounted solar panels!

Given that much UK housing is mediocre in both style and substance the affixing of these panels to roofs makes buildings look abysmal. They are always a negative visual contribution. The environmental blight that they are responsible for is, to my mind, worse than that caused by wind turbines. That they make some sort of green contribution to the generation of electricity is, no doubt, true. But what is also true is that it comes at a very high price. And what I find truly remarkable is that I have heard not a single voice raised against them. Perhaps that's, in part, because the people who have fitted them have been bought off with the profit to be made from the feed-in tariff and their eyes have been blinded by the glitter of the promised piles of money.

In my part of the world I see these glossy abominations fitted to roofs new and old, to slates, concrete tiles and pantiles, their sleek, black rectangles like alien sores, destroying any architectural integrity that a building may once have had. It seems strange to me that a proposed wind farm stirs up oppositions whenever and wherever it is mooted but these accretions are meekly accepted. Could it be that the small scale, virus-like spread of roof-mounted solar panels will mean that people will wake up to the environmental damage they cause only when it's far too late? I can't help feeling that a programme of retro-fitted house insulation of a magnitude greater than the current weak efforts would have achieved greater results at less monetary and environmental cost.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 238mm
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/640 sec
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Deere and turtle doves

click photo to enlarge

A while ago someone I know told me that her farmer son had taken delivery of a new combine harvester. "What colour is it?" I asked. When I heard it was green I said, "Tell him he bought the wrong colour!" I have no interest in the make of farm machinery, so my observation wasn't prompted by any loyalty to, say, Massey Ferguson over John Deere. It's simply that, as any photographer knows, a red combine harvester munching its way across a field of wheat makes a better photograph than a green one: red has more visual punch, and even a distant shot of a combine painted red has weight in a composition.

And, what goes for combine harvesters goes for tractors too. I took a few shots of this green tractor pulling its harrow of tines and discs across the stubble of a harvested Fenland wheat field, but only in those photographs with the machine relatively near the camera did the tractor have sufficent visual weight to give compositional balance for the dominant wind turbines.

That afternoon's photographic outing produced little of worth in terms of images, but did prove interesting ornithologically speaking. Driving along a dead straight drove road I came upon a wood pigeon and what appeared to be a couple of collared doves that were reluctant to take flight from the tarmac. As I got nearer the colours and markings of the smaller birds revealed them to be turtle doves (Streptopelia turtur). In the UK this species is the most rapidly declining farmland bird. Numbers have fallen by 70% since the mid-1990s. The intensification of farming and continental hunting are thought to be the cause of the reduction in numbers. Consequently I was thrilled to see this pair, quite late in the season in the intensively farmed Lincolnshire Fens just before they depart for warmer southern climes.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 80mm
F No: f6.3
Shutter Speed: 1/640
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Weather forecasting

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The ease or difficulty of weather forecasting depends a great deal on location.The weather of continental areas in the centres of large land masses is, by and large, reasonably predictable. The weather forecast of a western maritime location, such as that of the British Isles, is much harder to get right. The Gulf Steam together with pressure systems and their associated winds and precipitation make accurate forecasting a challenge. It also helps to account for the frequency with which the weather is a topic of conversation in these islands!

Given that, I'm at a loss to understand why the UK's Meteorological Office publishes forecasts that aim to be accurate for any three hours at locations that may be only a dozen or so miles apart, based on recording stations that are spread much more thinly. Not surprisingly these detailed forecasts are often wrong. Equally unsurprisingly they are updated regularly during the day reducing their value as longer term forecasts.

In my experience some parts of the UK's forecasts are better than others. Wind direction seems to be the most reliable element followed by wind strength. The extent of cloud cover and whether or not the sun will shine is less accurate. However, in my part of the world the forecast for precipitation is often abysmal. Or perhaps, living in one of England's drier areas, during a year when we have had very low rainfall, it just seems that way. The main point I want to make is that I would be less critical of the forecasts and would actually find them more useful if they dispensed with their spurious accuracy, were less detailed, and better reflected the uncertainty that is inherent in weather forecasting in the UK. The fact is that if you see the weather will be sunshine and cloud at 1.00pm with light rain at 4.00pm, then this doesn't transpire exactly as forecast, and you've made arrangements based on the prediction, then you are more likely to notice (and be critical) than if the forecast was for "changeable" (sun/clouds/occasional light rain) for the whole period of the afternoon.

Today's photograph was taken on a day when the forecasters promised rain but delivered none. The sky certainly looked like it would produce rain with thin, watery clouds and intermittent denser patches veiling the sun. Passing a wind farm I thought it might be an opportunity to try a shot with my widest lens at 17mm, and compare it with an earlier version of this subject when the widest lens at my disposal was 22mm (35mm equivalent).

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 17mm
F No: f8
Shutter Speed: 1/640
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  -0.33 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

Wind turbines and dog daisies

click photo to enlarge

Drifting clouds above, drifts of dog daisies below. And, drifting by in the mid-distance, to the left of the nearest wind turbine, a buzzard. I took this photograph on one of those June afternoons when the light is bright, the air is clear because the temperature's around 16 Celsius, and the world is looking at its best. Yes, even with hulking great wind turbines dotted about!

I'd gone to the wind farm for two reasons. Firstly to get a photograph or two, and secondly to have a look at the wildlife areas that surround the associated electricity sub-station, and check on the growth of the trees, bushes, grasses and flowers. The Fens is an intensively cultivated area of England, with cereals and vegetables predominating (though near these turbines is a fruit farm), and relatively few cattle and sheep (though both could be seen from this spot). What it doesn't have that most other areas of the country do is extensive pasture. There are pieces here and there, but nothing on a big scale except along the banks of the larger, canal-like drains. It also lacks woodlands of any size and patches of uncultivated land are rare. Consequently, the deliberate planting of an area to encourage wildlife is to be applauded. This one isn't large, but in a Fenland location even a small reserve makes a significant contribution to biodiversity.

On the day of my visit the dog daisies were flowering in profusion - banks of white and yellow heads were everywhere dancing on the breeze. Birds were flitting here and there too. In twenty minutes of looking over the reserve I saw yellowhammers, skylarks, reed buntings, house sparrows, starlings, tree sparrows, sedge warblers, a whitethroat, red-legged partridges, kestrels, greenfinches, goldfinches, magpies, blue tits, great tits, a little owl and pied wagtails. Beyond its confines was the buzzard, carrion crows, pheasants, wood pigeons and collared doves. I know that if I'd visited nearer to sunset there would have been barn owls and tawny owls too.

A while ago I wrote a blog entry entitled "Co-existence" about how wind farms, farming and wildlife try to live alongside each other. It was illustrated with a photograph taken from near the distant tree line in the image above. As I drove home from today's outing I thought about the wildlife I'd seen in the shadow of the turbines and pylons, and wondered whether there were other areas that could be similarly exploited to further improve that co-existence.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 14mm (28mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/1000
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -0.7 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Co-existence

click photo to enlarge
Co-existence has been one of mankind's greatest challenges ever since he stepped out of the cave: co-existence with nature, co-existence with other tribes, races, religions and nationalities. Then there's co-existence between the rural and the urban. I was pondering these things as I photographed a tractor planting brassicas in a field next to a Fenland wind farm and electricity sub-station.

The vehicle was slowly travelling up and down, a canvas planter behind filled with half a dozen workers rapidly putting small cabbages into the machine that set them in the ground in ruler-straight rows. Behind walked a man, occasionally stooping as he put right any seedling that was imperfectly placed in the soil. There was a certain incongruity between this task of basic food production, a job that despite the modern tractor and planter, was in most respects just the same process that has been undertaken for centuries, and the modernity of the towering turbines, pylons and wires of electricity generation. "Co-existence", I thought, "Each activity admits the continuation of the other."

A little earlier I'd watched a tree sparrow flying to and fro with food for its nestlings that were hidden behind the tile-hung side of a small pumping station. It too was co-existing with the intensive agriculture of this lowland area. As were the two pairs of lapwings that had found a field that was growing a root crop and had managed to fit their nesting and chick rearing into the period of time when the field surface most closely resembled their favoured pasture. And then there was the cuckoo flying across the nature reserve that had been created around the sub-station in the middle of the wind farm. It must have found a host for its eggs, and it seemed to be finding plenty of food as it "hawked"over some scrub and a small pond.

Co-existence requires give and take, and a recognition of the rights and needs of everyone and everything that shares our planet. It's vital to our continued survival, and it produces some odd bedfellows like these farm workers and their giant companions. But, unless we learn to live side-by-side with each other, in new and evolving ways, then our future is not assured.

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 50mm (100mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f6.3
Shutter Speed: 1/1250
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Showing, interpreting and explaining

click photo to enlarge
One of the things that every photograph says to a viewer is, "Look at this" because photography is a way of showing and interpreting the world. Many of the earliest photographs emphasised the medium's ability to bring accurate images from across the world into the eye and mind of people who had never ventured abroad. In November 1839, less than three months after Daguerre's invention became available, the painter Horace Vernet was using it to record scenes in the city of Alexandria in Egypt - a remarkable example of the quick implementation of new technology. The images Vernet made enabled European audiences to see what had previously been depicted only in words, engravings and paintings.

But, when the novelty of the photograph had worn off people began to see that cameras could do more than simply show the world; they could interpret it in something like the way that painters did. It was this important step that made some see photography as a medium capable of producing art. Today the field of photography is still divided up in this way, with amateurs and professionals producing images that either show or interpret.

Today's photograph is one that I took at the Boathouse Business Centre, a new and striking looking building at Wisbech in Cambridgeshire. It is a partner to the image I posted a couple of weeks ago. But, where that photograph was essentially "show", this one has an element of "interpret". How? Well, firstly I deliberately tilted the camera for the shot, and in such a way that the central column of the spiral staircase (and the vertical wind turbine) form a diagonal across the square frame. In doing that I could use the treads of the stairs as a curving diagonal across the square in the opposite direction, making a balanced, dynamic composition. And, in emphasizing the pattern of the segments of the underside of the stair treads I'm inviting the viewer to not only look at a possibly overlooked part of the building, I'm also saying look at it the way I saw it. My image, therefore, is as much about form and composition as it is about the subject.

Describing my photograph in this way makes it sound a rather fine and grand image: it's not. But that's always a danger when you describe the how and why of a photograph or painting. I think my shot's O.K., but no more than that. The act of putting into words the how and why of image making is something that photographers (and painters for that matter) are reluctant to do. Perhaps they think it robs their work of some of its magic and mystery, and makes it too accessible! Whatever the reason, it shouldn't be only critics and academics doing this sort of thing, and I try to offer a little explanation every now and then.

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 14mm (28mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f6.3
Shutter Speed: 1/125
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

The "Boathouse", Wisbech

click photo to enlarge
The Cambridgeshire settlement of Wisbech still retains much of its character as a Georgian market town. Many of its historic buildings have escaped the attentions of the improvers and developers, and it has a very high number of listed buildings - about 270 - for such a comparatively small place. However, this relative bounty in terms of eighteenth century architecture seems only partly the result of conscious conservation: the decline of the town from its glory years, with the attendant lack of development, is also an important factor.

However, Fenland District Council and the people of this part of Cambridgeshire are clearly taking steps to revitalise the area, and I came across one such example on my recent visit. The "Boathouse" Business Centre is a landmark office and services building next to the River Nene, the latest development in an area that already includes a marina, and promises more commercial space and riverside flats. The idea of "landmark" buildings as the focus of development seems widespread in Britain today, with museums (Manchester, Bradford), galleries (Salford, Liverpool, Gateshead), aquaria (Hull), and many other iconic, often cultural, structures being pressed into service. It seems to work: the failures - such as Manchester's Urbis (many say it didn't fail) which is to become the National Museum of Football - seem to be few.

This modest example in Wisbech has a shape that seems a little too obvious for its location: the pointed ends that echo a bow and stern, the white paint, the "bridge" balcony and the mast-like vertical wind turbine and street light all seem to proclaim too loudly, "I'm next to a marina - geddit!" That criticism notwithstanding, it is a good addition to the area, an interesting subject for a visiting photographer, and I hope it succeeds in bringing jobs and life back to this part of the town's riverside.

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 13mm (26mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f6.3
Shutter Speed: 1/500
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

The camera always lies

click photo to enlarge
"The camera never lies" is a saying that I remember hearing as a child, long before I owned a camera. To my young, growing mind it seemed like a perfectly reasonable statement. After all, cameras were unthinking machines that simply recorded that which the user pointed them at, unlike painting which was always an interpretation of what the artist saw. I think this is a view still held by many - both young and old - though the advent of digital photography and software like Photoshop has certainly raised doubts in the minds of a few more about whether a photograph can be believed. Ironically it's the more obvious manipulations such as the smoothing out of wrinkles around Twiggy's eyes, the removal of a film star's paunch, or the trimming of a starlet's waist that have prompted such thoughts.

It was only after I'd engaged in photography for a number of years that I began to question the wisdom of the statement that "the camera never lies." But by then, the more I thought about it, the more I came to understand that this saying was, in fact, the opposite of the truth: the camera always lies in one way or another. It lies by being more selective than the eye about what it sees, it lies by giving emphasis to things that the brain doesn't, the colours it shows are never accurate, the relative positions of objects are usually not as we see them, and the meaning that we take from a photograph is usually more to do with how we see the subject in the image than the reality that the photographer saw.

Today's photograph is just the sort of image that an opponent of a proposed wind farm or line of pylons might want to use. "Look", they would say, "these monstrosities turn the countryside into an industrial landscape!" But that's not true. At least it's not true as far as these pylons and these wind turbines go. By using a lens that is the 35mm equivalent of 300mm I've foreshortened and compressed this group of pylons and turbines into what looks like a small space, and I've magnified their apparent size. Anyone walking by this scene, or anyone living near it, would not recognise the photograph as the place they knew. It's just me making the camera tell lies for dramatic effect.

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 150mm (300mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f7.
Shutter Speed: 1/1250
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Photographers' shadows and Goldwynisms

click photo to enlarge
The Polish-born American film producer, Samuel Goldwyn (1879-1974), became almost as famous for his "Goldwynisms" as for his work in the cinema. His often surreal mixture of muddle and malapropisms are numerous, frequently memorable, and often hilarious. There is debate over the provenance of all the examples attributed to him, but many, if not most are are likely to be original. Those who knew him suggest that they arose because English wasn't his first language, because his thoughts often came faster than his ability to put them into words, and because he had a sharp sense of humour. When you read them you do feel that the first "Goldwynisms" were probably solecisms, but that the later ones may have been the product of a man enjoying his reputation for verbal infelicities. Whatever the truth, here are some that I particularly enjoy:

• "A verbal contract isn't worth the paper it's written on."
• "Every director bites the hand that lays the golden egg."
• "Anyone who would go to a psychiatrist should have his head examined."
  
• "Give me a couple of years and I'll make that actress an overnight success."
• "I don't think anyone should write his autobiography until after he's dead."
• "In two words: im-possible."
• "Our comedies are not to be laughed at."
  
• "The next time I send a damn fool for something I'll go myself."
• "Why did you name him Sam? Every Tom, Dick and Harry is named Sam!"
• "They stayed away in droves."
• "You fail to overlook the crucial point."

Reading that last one it occurs to me that perhaps "Goldwynism" is a disease that infected, among others, George Bush II.

You may be wondering what the connection is between the quotations above and my photograph of the shadow of me standing on the steps at the base of a Lincolnshire wind turbine. Well, one of the things you learn when you are starting out in photography, then learn to judiciously ignore as you become more experienced, is to never let your own shadow intrude into your image. It occurred to me, as I reviewed my shot, that Sam Goldwyn's most famous "ism" - "Include me out" - sums this rule up quite nicely!

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 12mm (24mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f8
Shutter Speed: 1/1250
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: 0 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