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/