A tale of two sunsets and noon day sun in Scotland

At the end of April I ventured up to Scotland for a spot of dancing and birdwatching and doing some photography on the way.  I started by dropping into the capital of the Northumbrian kingdom Bamburgh with its dominating castle.  I was heading for the beach when the heavens opened: hail covered my parked car so I left to have a look at causeway to Holy Island.  As I left Holy Island the skies lifted the clouds broke - I decided unusually for me - to go back to Bamburgh and just check how the bright low sun was playing with the landscape in the bright clear air one get's after a storm.  I'm so glad I did:







There are more here

A tour of Fife on a sunny day lead me to Anstruther where - sad to report - I had terrible fish and chips on the harbour front.  But the harbour was busy and I wandered for an hour or so in the strong midday sun.  I'm finding that HDR does offer some relief from the powerful bleaching effect of strong sun on colour. It also allowed me to play more with the "sunburst" effect which is easily achieved stopping my Nikon 18-55mm lens down to about f22. A certain amount of retouching is required afterwards to remove intrusive lens flare - which is reinforced by HDR processing.  I try to position the flare in areas of flat colour to make this easier.

As I motored home the sun was setting to my right and it seemed worth a visit to the Holy Island causeway again. I caught it just right.  The sun was setting over the main land and the tide was exposing the causeway.  There is something mystical about the place with only the sounds of rushing water and sea birds.

And Spring?

There's been an unfortunate hiatus caused by three things: illness on my part, a very cold spell in March which meant photography was limited by cold winds and snow and a dirty sensor.

I used a wet cleaner kit ("washing' the sensor three times!) to sort the dirt on the D7100 sensor.  Quite straightforward though I was a little worried by the whole idea.

Eventually I gave in to the relentless low temperatures and snow storms and paid a visit to my local church where the forms leapt out of the blanket of snow.  Not much to HDR here though it did bring out some of the detail lost to snow dominated exposures.

The graveyard which I used to walk through every day to and from primary school had lost much of it's  morbid languor.  Instead the graves seemed defiant against the snow, and more numerous against the white background.

One night whilst travelling for a pub meal in the hilly countryside to the north of Sheffield, I rounded the corner and got the view below.  It was frustrating to only have an iphone to capture the scene, some fiddling with the focus point was necessary to get the right exposure.  The lesson is, of course, always have a camera in the car!



After weeks - its seemed of cold weather and snow the temperatures rose sufficiently to melt the snow - though the east wind was bitterly cold.  But the sun showed through again and moreover the clouds rose and broke-up to provide the perfect conditions for atmospheric sunset shots in colour and black and white.

More of these can be found on the Flickr set - here

And the rest of my photos here at my Flickr photostream

Another White Light: Lilies

The sunshine was, for the first time in weeks, streaming through the kitchen window and the lilies  which I has bought my Mum for her birthday were just at their best, so some HDR still life was called for.





I had some problems choosing between settings on Photomatix so I broke my own rule about consistency and used a mixture.  I enjoy the way the texture comes out in the one above.

The glow on this one is haunting somehow.

And finally I took out a 20 year old 90mm Tamron Macro lens to get a little closer in.

More thoughts on a different kind of white light photography here.

As usual more can be found on my Flickr Account - here

Snow White light

From a situation where there was scant light, we went to outdoor scenes where lightness was to be found everywhere thanks to every snow falls.  New scenes presented themsleves in familiar places such as this one on the Chesterfield canal.  There's hardly any colour - no direct sunlight.  And i could have just switched into a black and white mode: but I prefered to use HDR to give just the tiniest hint of colour.  I think this was just a tad more effective - life is bearly visible but there beneath the snow.




And when colour does emerge it is exquisite set amongst the dulled, whitened tones.




When the sun did try to fight through I think it made for drama.  High up in the Alps I was amazed at the inconguity of birght colours (especially amongst the people skiing) against the snow - the sense of artificaility almost extends to one's perception of the snow itself - laid one might conclude over these big mountains just for teh purposes of fast moving descent and highlighting day-glo fashion.

Here where snow lies thick even on tree branches its as though the sun is trying to muscle its way through the cloud to assert it's primacy.  But it didn't get through and soon retreated.





And sometimes its just the form which leaps out when the landscape is starved of colour




Meanwhile back in town with sodium infused fog, light blazes giving buildings a new place in the landscape - its remarkable how focused one becomes when dark areas are suddenly made light.





But sunlight does break through it colours the land and its objects and inhabitants.  It also - early on when temperature and humidity work in it's favour - colours the air too.  This is a parish boundary and, in sentimental moments, I like to think of the long history of this path linking the farms on the hill to the flood plain of the river Trent to the east. Trade, history, natural history and geography to be read from the landscape.  Out of sight are the 1960s school to the left, way to the right a modern power station, the Trent is not the trading river it once was, let alone the way the Viking rulers moved between their acquired lands here and in Denmark.  The link with defence remains - a good mile down this path there is an old petrol dump - a fuel depot for the RAF.  A fuel pipe stretches over 7 miles between the depot and the old RAF base at Finningley (now Robin Hood airport).  But all is hidden under the snow.




And as quickly as it came, the snow goes and the sun asserts itself.






More snow pics here

http://www.flickr.com/photos/26110032@N02/sets/72157632608670242/

Winter Light - Winter Daydreams

There is something about the indistinct forms of a winter's day which create for me a mystery and challenge: the photographer's task is made harder by the lack of our life blood - light.  There is more to be half illuminated, colours are less saturated and subtle and shape plays a different kind of role amongst indistinct forms.

I'd like to explore this with a few examples from my collection of the last few days and from my archive to illustrate the potential of this low muggy light.

Light was scarce on Sunday morning as I made for Clumber Park in Nottinghamshire - fog pervaded as the sun rose meeting the contours of the land my car would dip into the murk and occasional lift on higher ground above the gloom, into an emerging sunrise and a picturesque sky.  The day was summed up in a view I got over one hill where the valley floor ahead was foggy and the skies above broken with cloud.

As ever click on pictures to see the full size versions in Flickr





With HDR processing the ambiguity continues above and below the billowing chimneys of the local power stations. The land itself gets harder to make out too. The cold condenses the water vapour into the blackest of clouds - further enhanced by the sun behind them, and the industry and meteorology combine in a strange unnatural scene.  So much as I love the subtle indistinction of winter - my first example is distinct - but unusual - I hope it delights and grabs your eye as much as it did mine.

In Clumber Park itself the trees shroud the mist and this is the stuff of fairy tales and dreamscapes - more so given the age and size of the vast arboretum there, near St Mark's Chapel.  The stately home once associated with these gardens was demolished in 1938 - its presence is seen in the terraces but the absence creates a void in the fabric and feel of this park.  All the more for the evocation of a dreamscape.

There are vast oaks here - venerable - they tangle together to create a wild wood at a distance which is rather more orderly when one walks through it.




The oak stands as a guardian in our woods and especially in the area of Clumber which is part of the ancient Sherwood Forest - a place where trees have names, histories and people speak of them as though they have personalities.  This entanglement - resolved more clearly in the opaque mist reveals the more daunting mystery of these woods.

There are also cedars of great age here - they stand with huge limbs - even more animalistic in my view - and they make such impressive counterpoint to the oaks.


 

This photo taken in the fog remnants of an afternoon the next day shows the limits of colour in this kind of light, nearly flat as a pancake, helped and muted further by the lenses of a telephoto - 500mm - which also helps concatenate the composition.


 

I'm only saved here by the bull rush seed heads and the dashes of reflected sunlight in the water: the rest is shape and warmth or otherwise of the washed out colour.  Again there's a haunting quality - somewhat wistful and punctuation is provided by the bold but slight accents.

 

Six weeks or so before Christmas, on a foggy day I caught a gloomy river Idle scene almost monochrome, but that same week a sunset revealed how much colour there was in the Autumn sky.  Now Winter's cloud obscures the sun for days on end.  How quickly that fades and how urgently we wait for Spring to bring it back - but in the meantime there is something to be said for Winter photography.  Tomorrow I go out in snow - a different challenge completely.

Back home - always HDR?

I was musing this afternoon, as the sun set, how to retain that haunting set of silhouettes in front of the sunset.  HDR software is of great value in lighting up dark corners but I don't always want that.  So this evening's experiement was of sunset photos was taken with silhouettes in mind.

First thing I turned off the supply of light by three stops - all three bracketted shots were under-exposed - so the darkest was nearly black.

The result using HDR was:



The result just using the best that is to say most atmospheric, (under) exposed single shot



I guess I could have fought long and hard with the HDR software to get an effect as spooky as the single image - but why bother.  Sometimes its just OK not to step into HDR world :-)

As ever, the rest of my photos are here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/26110032@N02/

Day 6 - near Glasgow

The final day of my Scottish winter expedition was to be spent at the RSPB reserve at Lochwinnoch, 10 minutes or so from Glasgow Airport.  Its an unlikely spot for lots of birds at first glance, but three lochs provide the shelter for wildfowl and woodland, reedbeds and a fast flowing river add to the mix.




The final bird tally for the day was 30 but that included plenty of Goldeneye, a Dipper and a Grey Wagtail (a rarity in my part of the world) and I missed a Hen Harrier. Not bad for a windswept dark day - though I'm sure I could do better in Spring/Autumn.

The photographer's hide is a good idea - though some guidance for users might be good.  The lady who sat with her entire head and hands and camera poking through the hide window was clearly missing the point and the birds too.

It felt like winter for the first time on my trip - my eyes watered as I tried in vain to find a Whooper Swan amongst the many Mute Swans.


 

But best of all were the lusty Goldeneye - two drakes and four ducks - thinking of spring!