A Load of Bullocks!

Living just outside Chester certainly has its advantages; I can be in Snowdonia or the South Lakes in around an hour and a half. However, I find I struggle a little for interesting landscapes when I have less time on my hands. Take this morning for example: The forecast was promising with the possibility of a frost, little wind and, perhaps even some low lying mist but I had to work which, with sunrise at around 7:30, meant I had very little time.

The closest body of water to home is the River Weaver; not exactly the prettiest stretch of water but, in the right conditions, it has some promise so this was where I headed this morning. Sadly, it became quickly evident that there would be only the lightest of frosts and the mist which often sits over the Weaver valley at this time of year was absent. Still, I was out, so I pressed on. The next problem was the state of the path which looked like a herd of cattle had been driven along it after a heavy downpour. It would have been impossible to negotiate without wellies and wasn't much fun wearing them. Still I pressed on.

Next I encountered the culprits - four bullocks happily grazing on the path; the presence of a feed bucket betraying the fact that this was no accident. Presumably an attempt to deter walkers. It nearly worked for me but, with tripod at the ready, I passed them warily. The greater problem was that there was just nothing very interesting about the river in those conditions. Even the water seemed particularly scummy for a longish stretch. The one saving grace was the sky behind me which had clouded over. I felt sure this cloud would colour up nicely as it approached sunrise but I struggled to find any decent composition in that direction. The scene above was the best I could come up with. It wasn't possible to avoid the pylons but I thought I might clone them out. In the end I didn't bother because, unbelievably, I had failed to see the ugly concrete structure to the side of the tree. That said, there was no way I could have avoided that anyway. This, then, was my one composition of the morning and it's nothing more than a record - not really worth squelching through the mud and muck and risking my life with bullocks (yes, I know I'm exaggerating).

Just to prove the conditions make all the difference, here is an image from a previous excursion - taken a few hundred yards from the one above.

Working the Scene

It is that time of year when we landscape photographers find it hard to resist the lure of heather in bloom; it adds so much colour and interest to a scene. The closest location for me which has a really good display of heather is the National Trust owned Thurstaston Common on the Wirral Peninsula; it is just under a 30 minute drive for me and has the added attraction of bearing many good memories from my childhood - as well as being the place I proposed to my wife some 31 years ago.

The two images above were taken there almost exactly a year ago. I was fortunate to get a fine evening with some lovely, late evening light on the tree and was able to find two quite different compositions by moving just a few feet. Unfortunately, I didn't manage to get back there again but kept this spot in mind for another time; that other time being a year later.

This time I wanted to see what I could make of the same spot at sunrise so I rose at 5am last Friday and headed out there. The views above were east facing and it quickly became apparent that the conditions were not going to suit this. However, simply by turning 90 degrees, I was presented with the scene below.

Although it was in no way a spectacular sunrise, it was clear that the sun was eventually going to light the scene and create more interest; it was just a question of waiting for 20 minutes or so.

Turning around, and moving to my left a few feet, I had a view over to Thor's Rock framed by the heather and trees:

I was pleased with these images but felt there was more to be had from this particular spot and so, with a favourable looking forecast for Sunday morning, I headed out once more for sunrise. The sky looked far more interesting this time and I was determined to get a panoramic version of the same scene. Unfortunately, although the sky was better, the sun was quickly swallowed up by low cloud shortly after rising and never quite managed to light up the foreground as before:

Finally, moving a few feet forward and adopting a portrait format, I sought to emphasise the sweep of the heather in the centre - this being the main feature that attracted me in the first place:

At this point the cloud spread and my morning of photography was over but it was an enjoyable break from a weekend of decorating.

If it isn't already obvious, the moral of this story is that it is worthwhile spending time at a location as it is often possible to find a variety of compositions simply by moving a short distance, looking around and changing height and angle of view.

Featured Photograph for March

The photograph I have chosen for this month is not new but has been recently 're-worked' - I will explain more later. Despite having been made a few years ago, it remains one of my personal favourites; partly because it is a beautiful scene but also because this is my spiritual home - the Lake District and, specifically, the area around Keswick. I genuinely feel my spirit soar as I near the northern Lakes. This, then, is one of my favourite viewpoints; the top of Walla Crag offers such superb views for such modest effort that it it would be mad to overlook it.

On this morning, the forecast for cold, clear weather promised much and I was not disappointed. I had Walla Crag all to myself for a couple of hours and enjoyed the most peaceful time watching the mist burn away as the sun grew in strength. I then had the enormous, if slightly mean, pleasure of meeting another photographer on his way up as I headed down, aware of what he had missed out on by having his breakfast beforehand (if you tell me you wouldn't get some pleasure from that, I don't believe you).

The photograph was taken on Velvia 50 film using my Mamiya Pro TL and has only been printed once, direct from transparency. Until a couple of days ago, I thought that I had lost the transparency but I eventually found it (I really need to sort out my storage system) and decided to get a high resolution scan before I misplaced it again. The beauty of having a decent digitised version is that I have been able to lighten the fells a little - something I was unable to do with scans from my own flatbed. This now better resembles the original.

There is one other thing that makes this picture special to me: It won the Wainwright Society Photographic Competition a few years back. Now I don't kid myself that this competition had a huge entry but the judge was one of my photography 'heros', Derry Brabbs. Derry produced the photographs for all but one of the 'coffee table' Wainwright books and was instrumental in kick starting my passion for landscape photography as well as inspiring me to my first ever, very modest, published work. The knowledge that he liked this enough to select it as his winner is a source of great satisfaction.


Prints available from my website : www.landscapeandlight.co.uk

Featured Photograph for December 2012

I do have a confession to make; this picture was not made in December. However, I don't necessarily think that I have to feature pictures in the month they were made and, anyway, this is surely a depiction of what we all want December to look like.

This is a picture from a couple of years ago when we had a rare episode of very heavy snowfall here in west Cheshire. I can only recall two or three times in the last 25 years when this has happened so I made sure I made the most of it with a trip into North Wales. This, however, was much closer to home - Frodsham Golf Course in fact (I wasn't trespassing, there is a footpath across the course - see below). It had only just stopped snowing and I went in search of just this kind of scene. I wanted something simple, that was all about the shape of the tree and really needed to find a tree I could position against the skyline with nothing else to intrude. Once I had found a suitable tree, making the photograph was relatively simple.

I had initially planned to make this a silhouette. Indeed, given the dynamic range involved, I expected it would have to be a silhouette as I exposed for the sky to ensure it was pure white - a bit like a studio background. When processing the picture, though, I discovered I was able to retain the white of the sky and snow whilst bringing out some detail in the tree and this, I decided, looked better then a silhouette would have.