A winter's day and burnished bark...

By the time I get out of the house for some photography it has become a typical British winter's day: overcast, damp and cold. Temperatures hover at around freezing - evident as broken ice on puddles after recent rain remains frozen, and in some cases has frozen over a second time.

Despite this there is a stark indication that spring has been trying to happen - at least before the current cold snap - in the form of blooming daffodils at Throop, Dorset (right). I first mentioned this in my 7th January post, where the shoots were up but not in flower. I had intended to return earlier to photograph the openings, but what with one thing and another I never managed it until today. A remarkable occurrence for January, to say the least.

Having got my shot by sprawling on the ground (protected by a strategically positioned bin liner - I think of most eventualities), I move on to Stour Valley Local Nature Reserve via the Muscliff Arboretum, and my attention is immediately drawn to a fine example of a Tibetan Cherry tree (Prunus serrula). I have passed this tree numerous times, and why I have not noticed its distinctive bark before is beyond me. I ask a passer by if they can identify the tree, and I'm reliably told it is an acer, but according to the arboretum species listing it is, in fact, a cherry. I will be returning to this particular specimen, with its burnished bark, in the coming months.


Both images: 90mm f/2.8D EX Sigma macro lens.

Top: 1/320 second at f/5.6. - 0.33 EV compensation. ISO 400
Below: 1/320 second at f/6.3. + 0.33 EV compensation. ISO 500


© 2012

A bit of a gambol...

Winter has arrived, it seems, at least along the coast of Dorset. This is validated by low temperatures, an Easterly wind... and snow. Yes, something of a rare occurrence in the area, but at 9.37 this morning I witnessed falling flakes.  Albeit very slight, it would still be enough to make bookmakers acknowledge a white Christmas (had it, in fact, happened on that day - i.e., a payout). So, in a nutshell: today it snowed.

By early afternoon the thick grey cloud had thinned sufficiently to allow a bit of sun through, so I selected an unlikely lens pairing - an 85mm f/1.4  portrait lens, and a full frame fisheye - and get out on my bike to shoot seascape images.

I'm busy photographing waves breaking on the beach at Southbourne when a small short-haired, er... dog, gambols through the waves as they roll along the shore, barking at everything and nothing and clearly having a grand time of it all. By the time I fire the shutter I have already decided to convert the image to monochrome.


10.5mm f/2.8 fisheye Nikkor. 1/500 second at f/8. ISO 400


© 2012

A personal best...

My word, what a lot of weather we're having along the south coast at the moment - more like April showers than winter - but it does give me reason to go out again during late afternoon to see what can be had with a camera.

I'm no sooner riding along Bournemouth's sea front when I'm caught in one of the aforementioned showers and take shelter on Boscombe pier, where I photograph the rain coming down over the Isle of Purbeck. Unfortunately, the pier closes at 4pm at this time of year, so I'm ejected before the gates are locked.

I make my way west before eventually stopping to photograph the last of the afternoon light at Branksome Beach. I'm carrying a fisheye lens with me on this occasion - not the land or sea-scapers first choice of optic -  but occasionally it comes in handy for something a bit different, with its 180º angle of view from corner to corner, and huge depth of field. At least I don't have to worry about level horizons, and straight lines are out of the window, so it's a fun lens to use with the right subjects.

I also think I've made something of a record for this blog, today: 14 posts in a month (and still four days to go).


10.5 mm f/2.8G Fisheye Nikkor. 1/320 second at f/11. - 0.67 EV compensation. ISO 400


© 2012

Halfway to France...

An early morning check of the Met Office's Infrared satellite image tells me all I need to know: clear skies over much of England. That, plus light winds, and it's a recipe for a pre-dawn start for some early morning exercise and photography thrown in along the way, should anything present itself to the camera.

On such ventures it is always my policy to ride into the wind on the outward leg of the trip - it's so much nicer (and easier) to have it on my back going home - so I again cycle west along the front of Poole bay as the dawn begins to break. Sunrise is at 7.50am, but I won't see that due to the cloud bank that so often sits on the horizon (in the photo it is roughly half way across the English Channel), but I start making photographs the moment I arrive at a favourite spot on the beach of Canford Cliffs.

I shoot a number of images into the light as the sun breaks above the cloud, but it's the delicate pastel hues of the early morning light that produces the best image, with Handfast Point and Old Harry Rocks on the horizon.


24-70mm f/2.8 AF-S Nikkor. 1/320 second at f/8. ISO 400


© 2012

Shower clouds and meteorological phenomena...

For once the Met Office's weather forecast was accurate. Hyperbole, of course - we all like to moan about how far out the weather forecast is almost as much as we like to moan about the weather - but today I experienced the full gamut of its prediction.

So, heading into a brisk Westerly wind I arrive at Sandbanks, Poole, as the tide is going out. There are a few kite surfers doing their stuff on the water - and I do mine - with the obligatory shots that I know I'll never use. Even with this in mind it serves as a warm up: to get my eye in and look for images or situations to photograph - getting in the mood, if you like. Ordinarily, these frames languish on one of several hard drives, never to see the light of day again, but earlier this week I executed a pretty severe edit of such images dating back to August of last year, and consigned 2283 RAW files to the trash.

It's as I'm half-heartedly shooting the kite surfers that shower clouds roll in and darken the sky, and rain is visible in the far distance. This is only temporary, because no sooner has the cloud moved directly overhead the horizon begins to lighten. Straight away I know there will be a rainbow to shoot, so I start looking for a suitable scene to capture the event.

The rain itself bypasses me, and I am able to capture the optical phenomenon over the sea, as well as part of the shower system that caused it.


18-35mm f3.5-4.5 ED Nikkor. 1/1250 second at f/8. - 0.33 EV compensation. ISO 560


© 2012

Dustpan and Brush...

The last in the current trilogy of this weekend's sunset photographs (I hope: well it has to be since today is Sunday). I'm finding precious little to shoot at the moment, but with early signs of spring being just around the corner I'm content to make do with the easy subjects.

It had been a mostly clear day along the coast of Dorset, although a gusty wind took the edge of it, but as mid afternoon arrived wispy, high-altitude cloud rolled in. However, not enough of it to rob me of the light.

Low tide in Poole Bay was at 1600 hours, so I venture to the beach for dusk images, plus the hope that again I might be treated to an afterglow and something dramatic. Not so this time, although the sky had good detail once the sun had set (right).

In spite of low water I'm forced to keep an eye out for waves that continually roll up the beach and threaten to engulf my feet - past experience has conditioned me to this - whilst I try to capture wave patterns that in some way echo sky.

Oh, yes, the blog title: I did it for a dare! (don't ask).

12-24mm AF-S Nikkor. 1/400 second at f/5.6. ISO 640


© 2012

f/8 and be there...

f/8 and be there: the mantra of the press photographer - set the lens aperture to that value and let what's happening in front of you do the rest. Wise words, indeed, if you have a subject to photograph, but it's another drab day, light wise, and another late start before the weather gets interesting. With less than an hour to go before sunset I set out on my bike, chasing the light.

The cloud has broken sufficiently, and experience tells me that I may not only get a sunset to photograph, but also an afterglow - more photogenic in my book. This does not always happen once the sun dips below the horizon, but it's always worth waiting to see if it happens before packing up and leaving the scene.

Today it does. I select the widest lens in my bag, and keeping a wary eye on an incoming tide I go down on one knee to get a lower angle. I start making photographs as soon as the sun disappears from view and watch keenly as the strength of the colours on the clouds intensifies. I have to be vigilant and shoot at the peak as the colours are at their strongest for only a minute or so: after that they weaken and fade and the shoot is over.


12-24mm f/4 AF-S Nikkor. 1/100 second at f/8. + 0.33 EV compensation. ISO 800


© 2012

Deliberate flare...

Today almost didn't happen. After yesterday's shoot under heavily overcast skies I decided not to venture into the great outdoors as it was a similar kind of day: heavily overcast. The weather forecast hinted at brighter conditions as the day wore on, but I ignored it.

By mid day the light had not changed a bit. By mid afternoon it looked like it might rain. Then it did. But a quick perusal of the Met Office's satellite photo suggest clear conditions would shortly follow.

It was late in the day when I finally decided to risk it, and cycled down to the seafront at Boscombe, on Poole Bay to catch the last of the light. I arrive as it starts raining again, but not deterred I stand on the shore line and start taking photographs in the rain as the sun sets.

Keeping the front element of the lens dry is impossible in spite of a lens hood (use one at all times, folks), and after several attempts to remove the rain drops I give up and shoot away, allowing the droplets to produce flare in the image - an effect that contributes to the feel of the image.

24-70mm f/2.8 AF-S Nikkor. 1/30 second at f/8. + 0.33 EV compensation. ISO 400


© 2012

Frame within a frame...

The high pressure weather system that was briefly positioned over the UK has since drifted east across Europe, and the skies have become heavily overcast: time for some photography.

Initially, I spend some time shooting details in the sand exposed by a retreating tide in Poole Harbour before moving on to fisherman's dock, where I spend a good forty five minutes attempting to produce an image with a strategically placed gull to complete the composition. All to no avail. It's here that I have a brief discussion - and a different perspective - with another photographer that happens along. We nod to each other in acknowledgement of the cameras we are holding before I speak: "Great light, isn't it?" I say. Clearly mistaking my enthusiasm for sarcasm, he replies: "Terrible, isn't it?"

We are both looking for different things, and both equally valid.

I give up with the gulls and wander onto Poole Quay to see what catches my eye, and it's a window on the corner of Custom House, situated on the quay itself, and the warmth of the scene within that produces today's photograph. However, it's the weather-worn wooden frame that gets my scrutiny, and I select a medium-wide aperture to throw the interior out of focus, and use the wooden arch to produce a frame within a frame, allowing the reflections of the scene behind me to complete the picture.


50mm f/1.8D AF Nikkor. 1/250 second at f/4. - 0.33 EV compensation. ISO 640


© 2012

Crafty little trick...

Having edited and processed this morning's images I check out the weather forecast and realise that the current high pressure is not going to last, and rain is expected mid-week. So it's back on the bike during mid afternoon to make the most of what's on offer.

I cycle to Christchurch harbour, Dorset, with something specific in mind: photographing the local priory from the top of the headland that forms the southern shore - Hengistbury Head. I make a number of images as the sun dips down, but it's not coming together for my taste and I give up on the idea and cycle along the seafront towards Boscombe, keeping an eye out for anything of interest.

The sun has been set some twenty five minutes before I come across the scene here. There is a good afterglow in the cloudless sky, and the sea has turned blue due to the high colour temperature. I decide to photograph the effect. This is the tricky bit.

Most camera meters will try their best to give you an overall balanced exposure under such conditions, but the end result is often too light and unrealistic. This is not what I'm actually seeing. To regain the tones of the scene before me I use a crafty little trick: set the exposure compensation to -2 stops; in other words, force the camera to underexpose by two full f/stops below what it wants to give me. This will produce an exposure far closer to what is actually in front of my lens. Now, this works with Nikon camera bodies in Matrix metering mode. Whether it works in the same way with other makes is unknown to me, but it is something worth considering when faced with pre-dawn or dusk scenes.


300mm f/2.8 AF-S VR Nikkor (VR on) with TC-14EII converter. 1/60 second at f/4. -2 stops EV compensation. ISO 800. Monopod

A life form and its star...

High pressure over much of the UK during the past day or so has resulted in a few of those special winter's days of clear blue skies and cold, bright conditions: time I took advantage of some early light.

I'm up well before dawn, and a swift look outside reveals stars in the sky. It's clear. I decide upon a super telephoto lens to (hopefully) capture the sunrise over the sea, but until I arrive at my chosen location I'm never sure if I have the right choice of optic(s) slung over my shoulder - there can be a distant cloud bank that so often lurks low on the horizon, which not visible from where I live.

I arrive at Southbourne cliffs in the pre-dawn and immediately know I have chosen wisely. No cloud! I make my way down to the beach; set up my camera on a monopod...and wait. I have fifteen minutes or so before the sun is due over the horizon at 8.04, so I spend the time photographing the half moon and making test exposures. I'm trying to anticipate how much exposure compensation to give my basic meter reading, but dial in a plus value as a starting point as I am shooting into the light. I will make adjustments on the fly.

The sun's disc becomes visible at the expected time and I start making photographs. All well and good, but I always feel that scenes like this need a little something extra, and I've taken to habitually using gulls to achieve this. Always a hit or miss technique, but again an obliging bird sails into the frame before the sun becomes too bright and the shoot is over.

300mm f/2.8 AF-S Nikkor with TC-14EII converter. 1/1600 sec at f/5. + 0.33 EV compensation. ISO 400. Monopod.


© 2012

Friday 13th...

Well I ain't superstitious, sang Howlin' Wolf in 1961, and no black cat crossed my trail either, but for a moment the bad luck associated with the above day and date seemed to be playing a hand in the afternoon's proceedings. Having prepared my camera gear and dressed appropriately in thermal everything - maximum temperatures are expected to peak at 6ºC - my final check before leaving the house was the tyre pressures on my bike. It was at this point I thought things were beginning to work against me.

The dust cap on the rear wheel valve was somewhat recalcitrant as I tried to remove it for tyre inflation, but when it finally did yield it also took the valve itself with it as it came free. Nil desperandum: I simply replaced the tube with a fresh one and set off along the coast.

I make a number of stops for photographing whatever takes my fancy along the seafront of Poole Bay, Dorset, but it's the Twin Sails lifting bridge in Poole itself that really gets my interest, set against the winter sky. The bridge was slated to be opened this month, but from what I can glean that won't happen now until early March (the 9th was mentioned in conversation with a fellow snapper), but I'm lucky enough to be treated to a test closure shortly after I arrive (top).

Satisfied I had something of worth, I pack up and head home, but as I cycle along the edge of Parkstone bay it is evident there will be a sunset worth pointing a lens at, so I stop to make a number of exposures with a telephoto zoom lens as the sun dips below the distant hills of the Isle of Purbeck. The lone silhouette of a gull skimming the surface of the water makes the shot. Another successful image, the shooting location of which can be found below.

So, despite a slightly ominous start to today's outing things turned out rather well, dispelling the myth of the unlucky date. Of course, as they say in America: your mileage may vary.









Top: 24-70mm f/2.8 AF-S Nikkor. 1/80 second at f/9. - 0.33 EV compensation. Polariser. ISO 400
Below: 70-200mm f/2.8D EX Apo Sigma lens. 1/640 at f/9.  + 1.33EV compensation. ISO 200


© 2012

Reserved cormorants...

After the (somewhat) recent blustery weather the weekend starts calm and clear, and I make my first visit for some months to the Stour Valley Local Nature Reserve, Dorset. I ride the entire length of the reserve, keeping an eye out for anything interesting (there are otters afoot, they say), but apart from emerging willow catkins there is little to point my lens at.

The area is largely deserted, apart from the odd fisherman along the river bank - surprising since it's a Saturday and the weather is bright - but it's the more expert variety that eventually gets my attention at the North west corner of the reserve. I stop to photograph electricity pylons reflected in the water (left), and notice several cormorants perched high up and drying themselves in the winter sunshine.

I switch lenses for the longest optic in my bag (why do I always have the big stuff at home when need it the most?) and zoom in to capture the scene in greater detail.

I had noticed this particular perch almost a year ago when I first visited the nature reserve, but either the birds or the light was not present when I was, so this time I relatively lucky, super-telephoto lenses notwithstanding, and get some acceptable shots (right).

Although very much in the grip of winter - and much colder days are yet to come, I feel - there are some signs of spring; particularly at Throop, where daffodils are up but not as yet open.

Top: 24-70mm f/2.8 AF-S Nikkor. 1/100 second at f/11
Right: 70-200mm f/2.8D Apo Sigma lens. 1/800 second at f/5.6.
ISO 200


© 2012

Sodium vapour and moonlight...

It's way after dark before I decide to go out for a ride and a bit of photography, but having made the decision to travel as lightly as possible I decide against using a tripod and elect to shoot with available light.

I have six fast aperture lenses - the fastest being f/1.4, but on this occasion I dig out a little used lens that I bought some years ago when I still shot with film. For some reason or other this particular optic fell out of favour and it was high time it got some exercise.

I'm cycling along the seafront of Bournemouth, keeping an eye out for potential subjects, when my progress is eventually arrested by the buildup of wind-blown sand on the promenade: it's too deep to ride through. I push the bike for a hundred metres or so and take a number of photographs of a refreshment kiosk (long closed for the day: maybe the winter), but it's the scene behind me that produces a spark of creativity.

Light levels are very low, and despite the fact that I'm shooting with the lens wide open shutter speeds are appallingly low for hand held photography. The fact that I'm using a wide angle lens helps enormously to achieve a sharp image at such slow speeds, but I have to be careful with technique.  My only real option is to rack-up the ISO to get something manageable. Now, the camera I am using is ancient technology in digital terms (5 years old) and huge progress has been made since those days in digital sensor arrays, and no doubt modern cameras would leave mine standing with high ISO settings, but I have little choice. Digital noise will be a problem.

Contrast is through the roof, so I switch to manual and take a spot meter reading from the sand beneath the light, and add a further 1⅓ stop exposure to my settings to stop the beach recording as a mid grey. I let the lamp burn out in the image. I also decide to leave the ghosting created by the lens as it adds to the atmosphere. I do attempt to correct the colour balance from the orange glow of the sodium vapour lamps used to illuminate the beach front after dark, but because it is a discontinuous spectrum it is not possible for a full correction. I thought you would like to know that.


20mm f/1.8 D EX DG Sigma lens. 1/20 second at f/1.8. ISO 2500


© 2012

Shadow and sand...

Strong winds and rain have been a feature of the UK's South West over the past few days, causing damage to nature and property, but today there was a break in the cloud, leaving blue skies to shoot under. However, the winds remained, gusting up to 45mph (72kmh) along the coast.

Under such conditions I nearly always opt to visit the seaside for photography, but despite the wind there is no sea running, so no chance of dramatic images. Instead, I concentrate on wind-blown sand patterns and shadows as here on the seafront at Southbourne in Poole bay.

Travelling light with only one lens - as I was today - is always going to be a compromise: the photographer can rest assured that in the case of toting a single optic such as a wide angle lens then a telephoto would be more suitable, and vice versa. This time I had chosen a wide angle zoom lens for flexibility, but my eye was seeing detail that ideally required a 50mm lens (or short telephoto) to capture the effect I was after. As a result I have to adjust my eye and look for the bigger composition, however mundane. Fortunately the ripples in the sand and shadows thrown across it help make the foreground interesting.


12-24mm AF-S F/4 Nikkor. 1/200 second at f/11. - 0.33 EV compensation. ISO 200

© 2012

Obliging gull...

The first decent light of the new year and I'm out on my bike for some photography. In fact it's a crisp winter's day with a stiff breeze, and conditions are ideal for water sports, so I head for Poole Harbour to see if there is any action. There is, of course, plenty to photograph, but I have numerous shots of kite and wind surfers and today I'm just not inspired.

The sky had remained a cloudless blue for most of the day, but during mid afternoon clouds roll in from the Southwest and the sky suddenly becomes more interesting than those rubber-clad figures scooting along in the middle distance. I change lenses and start photographing the cloud formations. Interesting as they are, ideally need something as a focal point. I keep making exposures until a gull obligingly flies into position to complete the composition. At that point I know I've got the shot I'm after.

The shower clouds disappear almost as quickly as they arrived, but by that time the light - and the water sports enthusiasts - have gone; closely followed by me.


24-70mm f/2.8G AF-S Nikkor. 1/800 second at f/8. + 0.33 EV compensation. ISO 400


© 2012