No gloves required...

I am outdoors, and working without gloves. Temperatures have achieved double figures on the Celsius scale, and although the stiff winds still blow - and working in my favour - the rain has gone. It is quite a pleasant, bright afternoon on the south coast, and more early signs of spring are on display as crocuses have started to appear in a local wood. Upon their discovery I stop and contemplate returning home for a macro lens, but opt to return tomorrow to do a proper job of photographing them and press on.

The persistent winds over the past few days have begun to smooth out the sand on the nearby beaches, as well as producing some interesting shapes and textures; the prime reason for my visit. It is not very often that I find my best example in the first place I start looking, but today it was just that. As all good photographers do, I make the note in my mind as I fire the shutter that I will convert the final image to monochrome (above). I come across some other compositions that catch my eye, but this one turns out to be the best.

Days are noticeably growing longer, but my local pier still operates to its winter timetable. This has effectively put an end to the times when I could capture the late afternoon light from an elevated position over the sea. Instead, I start looking round for something different, and notice the reflection in the glass doors to one of the four entrances to the seafront Beach Pods - situated to the east of the pier on the Overstrand. I have the distorted lamp to fill one pane of the double doors; ideally, I need to balance the scene. As I am kneeling down to get the elements of the scene just the way I want them I see, out of the corner of my eye, a jogger approaching, and I time my exposure accordingly.

I only get the one shot, and although there is a good bit of daylight left, I know at that point that I'm done for the day. My mind is on the emerging spring flowers and tomorrows shoot.



24-70mm f/2.8G AF-S Nikkor.

Top: 1/500 second at f/8. ISO 400. Monopod
Right: 1/320 second at f/8. + 0.33 EV compensation. ISO 400 Monopod



© 2013

Colour range...

The cold weather continues, and I would much sooner stay indoors where it's warm and brush-up on my editing techniques in Adobe Photoshop,  than push through dull and gloomy days with a camera knowing I will have little to inspire me. At this time of year everything seems to stand still - although if you take the trouble to look you will see all sorts of things in nature starting anew - but until the light changes or it warms up a bit I am quite prepared to ride it all out.

During this quite time I have taken the opportunity to go through most of my gear, checking camera support systems (tripods/monopod/ heads, both ball and geared) to ensure smooth operation; cleaned lenses, and generally assembled all the bits and pieces that get scattered about into one place. It is, however, Photoshop that is getting most of my attention at the moment.

Making standard images with a camera and tweaking them in editing software is all fine and dandy, but I feel I have been missing out to some extent when using such a powerful program. Delving deeper below the surface of the software - I have only scratched it to date - gives me many ideas and opportunities to revisit old photos to see if a different slant; a fresh way of looking, will produce something both interesting and pleasing.

The poppies were photographed early one summer morning in June, 2009, near a local airport (the original can be seen here). I isolated only the reds in the image using Colour Range in the Select menu, then converted the rest to mono and added a tint to the black and white areas. That's all: A simple and easy thing to do that completely changes the feel of the picture. I'm going to enjoy this.


© 2009-2013

Heaven knows...

Although all the snow that arrived last Friday has long gone, I have barely been outside with my camera since. It has been cold. Temperatures have been bordering on freezing all week - and frankly the light has been less than inspiring - so when the two combine it is a struggle to find the motivation. The Met Office had predicted another snowfall for Tuesday, which would have been more than enough to tempt me back into the Great Outdoors, but by my reckoning they were about 300 miles out with their forecast.

I spend most of the time this week indoors, online, and learning new techniques and tricks in Adobe Photoshop, but I did notice, two days ago, the emergence of snowdrops in a local park. I had a camera with me at the time (of course) but knew that the gear I was carrying would be woefully inadequate to get anything approaching a decent image. I make the mental note to return with a suitable lens and support.

                                                     **********

I'm sprawled flat-out to get the shot; me and the camera both at ground level, the latter on a tripod. I have to make do with a plastic bin liner. Framing and focusing the shot is the tricky bit with the camera so low, and although the Live View function display on the camera's rear screen is useful for the first part, it is next to useless for checking focus accurately at such magnifications. You'd think otherwise, but I'm not prepared to trust it. Consequently, I am forced into contortions to use both the LCD screen and the viewfinder to check everything is set the way I want it. I'm working next to a busy road, no doubt drawing odd glances from passers-by. Subject movement is an issue since the shutter speeds are so slow, so I am there for quite some time, waiting for the breeze to drop long enough to make an exposure. Only one inquisitive chap stops to ask if I'm taking close-ups of flowers. Heaven knows what the rest must have thought.



105mm f/2.8D EX Sigma macro lens. 1/15 second at f/11. ISO 200. Mirror lockup and remote release. Tripod


© 2013

Dust-off the toboggan...

Predicted earlier in the week by the Met Office, the snow forecast for most of the UK duly arrived overnight. I might sound skeptical, but it is something of a rarity to get snow where I live, so when it does come along I have to make the most of it.

The alarm goes off at 6.30am and I peer out of the window to confirm the conditions (it is snowing), but I'm a bit disappointed to find that it is not necessarily settling in some places. Not to be discouraged, I have a light breakfast and leave the house twenty minutes before sunrise with my camera and two lenses. I head for the coast initially, but become more and more dispirited as I go, since the nearer to the sea I get, the less there is of the snow. I had had thoughts of recreating similar images to the ones the last time there was a significant fall in the area, two years ago, but it was not to be. The cliff tops and beaches were totally bereft of the stuff, and I immediately turned on my heels and left.

I had better luck the further inland I went, and a local park offered the best opportunities for some true winter photography. It was still snowing, and I thought to myself it was odd that the arctic conditions were, in fact, blowing in from the south east instead of from a more northerly compass point. Still, it wasn't too cold, and temperatures hovered just above zero Celsius for most of the day.

Of course, shooting under such trying circumstances has its drawbacks: keeping the front element of the lens free from precipitation, for one. It was a constant issue and I lost count of the number of times I pulled out a lens cloth to do the job. This task was made easier by the fact that I was using a clear protective filter over the lens (one of the rare occasions that I do), and the sole reason it was on the lens at all.

I spend the best part of two hours taking photographs of those struggling to go about their daily business, or those simply taking the infrequent chance to enjoy the snow for the sake of it. It beats me why people appear to have sleds and toboggans readily available at such short notice when snow is such a rarity in this neck of the woods. Maybe they store them in sheds and outhouses for such times. Maybe they know more than I do. Spooky.


24-70mm f/2.8G AF-S Nikkor. 1/100 second at f/7.1. + 0.67 EV compensation. ISO 640


© 2013

No doubt about it...

Winter begins to set in and the weather settles into a more stable mode: It's cold. At least the rain has gone for the time being, only to be replaced by snow by the weekend. That's the forecast tonight as I write, and that might well be supported by the fact that during late morning I had a light dusting of snow. Nothing serious, and it was gone all too soon, but snow nonetheless. Maybe come Friday, when the real fall happens; if it happens, I will get my camera out for some real winter shots. Who am I kidding? Of course I will!

The current high pressure is giving me some nice skies, and I spend a couple of hours by the sea taking cloud shots. I even produce a panoramic photograph of Poole Bay, Dorset, as the sun dips low in the sky, but it's half an hour before sunset that I am treated to the best light that gives a painterly feel to the image. No doubt about it in my mind, the sea, with a good sky above it, is always going to be a winning combination.



24-70mm f/2.8G AF-S Nikkor. 1/2000 second at f/5.6.  + 0.33 EV compensation. ISO 200



© 2013

The first signs of spring...

Another equally low tide; another photo opportunity. In total contrast to yesterday, the skies have cleared and the rain gone. It has also grown noticeably colder, with local temperatures hovering at around the 0º C mark, but the mild start to the year has resulted in daffodils coming up in a local park. Not, as yet, in bud, but still early nevertheless.

To be accurate it is not completely clear - a good degree of hazy cloud sprang up during the day - but this is far more preferable from a photographic point of view to the bland, blue sky that I had to put up with two days ago. In fact, I produced this image from roughly the same spot the lone surfer is standing on in yesterday's post, which helps to illustrate just how different it can be from day to day.

Tomorrow, rain is forecast once again, followed by another clear spell the day after that. It will be interesting to see how long this pattern continues. Still, the first signs of spring, eh? That can't be bad.




12-24mm f/4G AF-S Nikkor. 1/200 second at f/8.  -0.33 EV compensation. ISO 200. Monopod


© 2013

The Lone Surfer...

I timed today's shoot to coincide with the low spring tide during late afternoon, but the weather was doing its level best to work against me. In fact, it started to rain just as I arrived on the beach, but that sort of thing has never stopped me before (and never will). Nor did it worry me initially, as I was dressed for the worst the weather could throw at me, but it does make photography a challenge when the heavens open. At least there was no wind.

The real problem on days like this is trying to keep the front element of the lens dry, although water droplets can add to the outcome of images taken in the rain. However, it does limit the time I can  have the camera exposed and be ready to fire the shutter.

As a result I take no pictures at all until I reach the pier at Boscombe, Poole Bay; mainly because I saw nothing that grabbed my interest, but also because it is there that I am afforded some protection from the elements. The rain continues, and I begin to think I won't be getting anything, but shortly before the pier closes for the day there is a small break in the raincloud. and a lone surfer walks out of the surf and up the beach. The sand patterns exposed by the retreating tide were doing a good job of creating something interesting all by themselves, but the distant figure makes the shot.



12-24mm f/4G AF-S Nikkor. 1/40 second at f/8.  - 0.33 EV compensation. ISO 400. Monopod


© 2013

Sick again...

The sun came out, today; big-time. There was not a cloud visible as I walked a section of Poole Bay, Dorset, this morning. I had been inspired to visit the sea by the current tide tables, which tell me that there are very low spring tides over the weekend that will coincide with sunset. Tomorrow is the lowest, so today was a kind of rehearsal for it all. Well, not exactly, since I am out far too early, but the conditions are far too good to pass up.

Apart from the shots I am getting I also prove useful to several others who, espying the camera slung over my shoulder, ask me to take their photograph(s) with their own. I alway forewarn people in these situations that I'm not confident working a compact camera, or even a mobile phone (the usual preferred equipment of the casual snapper) for such purposes, but I always seem to get eyed with suspicion; as if, in some way, I am trying to evade their request. Fortunately, I always manage to achieve what they require, and we go our separate ways.

Despite the calm weather there is a bit of a sea running, and consequently the local surfers are out, if only in small numbers at mid-day during the working week.

I switch to a super-telephoto and spend the best part of an hour on Boscombe Pier, taking a few casual shots of the activities. I'm not expecting much from the session, and it's only when I open the files on my computer that I see I have something out of the ordinary.

A wave having reached beach break (I hope I'm getting the terminology correct, here), this surfer rides it and alights from his board at the end (now I know I'm not getting it right), and is captured falling backwards into the surf, with a body language and facial expression of contemplative meditation and achievement. Sick.



Top: 24-70mm f/2.8 AF-S Nikkor. 1/4000 second at f/2.8. Polariser. ISO 400
Right: 300mm f/4 AF-S Nikkor. 1/2000 second at f/5.6. + 0.33 EV compensation.ISO 400



© 2013

Same old story...

There is no doubt about it: I am enjoying something of a renaissance with my image making. I'm careful to avoid using the word "photography", as that is still the nuts and bolts behind it all, but I needed something stronger to revive my flagging interest.

I had become rather staid in my approach, often walking the same tired routes; riding the same well-worn paths on my mountain bike, expecting, nay, hoping something would come along for me to point a lens at. More often than not that never happened; I needed to start making things happen; I needed to regain control. So, I turned to the very thing that had been under my nose all the time: Adobe Photoshop.

I've used some incarnation of this software ever since I began the move towards digital imaging, eleven years ago, but very rarely for anything outside of primary adjustments to a basically already-finished picture. This is a shame, since the full versions of Photoshop offers so much. Of course, you still need the vision, but you are only limited by the extent of your imagination and a willingness to experiment and learn. Although these new techniques will go hand-in-hand with more traditional shooting, I am very much looking forward to the ride again.

                                                                                         *************

I visited a local park to scavenge for fallen leaves for this current project, but at this time of year there is very little colour left in them, but no matter as shapes alone would be enough for what I had in mind. I then found a suitable paving stone in my back garden; one that had a bit of texture and character, and set up my tripod for the shoot. With everything locked firmly down, and with the remote release in hand, I couldn't help but smile at the memory of using slow shutter speeds again. Such speeds were, at one time, considered 'fast' in my book - dictated by Fuji Velvia and small apertures - but I do so enjoy the more considered and genteel approach from time to time.



105mm f/2.8D EX Sigma macro lens. 1/5th second at f/11. ISO 160. Mirror lock-up. Tripod and remote release. Basic image manipulation as a RAW file.


© 2013

Tintype cow...

There are times when pulling out a camera and going off to shoot something just does not appeal, but that's not to say you can't have moments of creativity. During the past few weeks I have started to develop an interest in Photoshop for the sake of it; delving deeper into the possibilities of this very powerful software, instead of merely scratching the surface like I do with some basic adjustments after the shutter has been fired.

There are numerous tutorials on the interweb for the truly adventurous out there, but for the time being I'm still concentrating on actual photographs rather than creating something from scratch. I have always, since my first steps into the wet darkroom, been interested in toning techniques; once I had learned to print the toning followed soon afterwards. At that time I was avidly reading about, in photo magazines of the day, old processes from much earlier in the history of photography, although I never summoned up the courage for coating my own papers and mixing my own developing brews. It's time I tried my hand at some of this, with the added advantage on not having to get involved with all the nasty chemicals that were necessary for making the originals.

One such technique for making photographs was Tintype, where a direct positive was produced onto an iron plate (tin itself was not part of the process), and finished pictures could be made in just a few minutes after being taken. Exposures were long and subject movement was almost inevitable. This added to the charm of such images, and although subtle, some movement has been applied here.

The photograph of a Highland cow - taken on Oare Marshes, Kent, last December - proved to be an ideal subject to try the effect; the ageing treatment applied using editing software. Oh, yes... that, and a little help from a concrete wall!



12-24mm f/4D AF-S Nikkor. 1/320 second at f/4.  + 0.67 EV Compensation. ISO 200. Adobe Photoshop.


© 2013

How many more times...

It has been an uninspiring few days, light wise, and weekend shoots have never really appealed to me; far too many people about. Today I attempt to do something creative, and go out with a fast, short telephoto lens attached to the camera, for some arty shallow depth of field pictures. I initially set off on foot, and although it's mild for the time of year, I am a little more than surprised to discover a bush beginning to flower in a nearby park (right). To be perfectly honest, I am unable to identify the species (gardening and all it encapsulates not being my strong point), but I do know straight away that  I am toting the wrong lens for the job.

I quickly resign myself to that fact that this may be the most interesting opportunity of the day, and return home to get a more suited optic. I only have myself to blame in this respect, as, for some reason, I try and travel on foot weighed down with as little gear as possible these days. Granted, there is no need for a photographer to try to carry everything they possess when out with a camera - there are those that do make themselves look a little ridiculous lugging everything but the kitchen sink along on the off-chance they will need it - but I should at least give myself a chance with a better range of glass from now on. Lesson learnt (once again). I really should know better.



105mm f/2.8D EX Sigma Macro lens. 1/80 second at f/5.6.  -0.67 EV Compensation. ISO 400. Monopod.


© 2013

Another day: a different lens...

I came across this feature, yesterday, in the windbreak that runs almost the entire length of  Boscombe Pier, Dorset. I did make an obscure reference to it in the previous post, mentioning "...another day; a different lens" - and even took several reference shots at the time of discovery - but I knew I needed a specialist optic other than the one I had with me at the time to do it justice. Today I returned with a macro lens.

Looking more like some weird double-headed, push-me-pull-you-type specimen you might expect to see floating about on a slide under a microscope, they are, in fact, patterns created by impacts into the glass windows of the windbreak. How, exactly, they were made I can't say, but look for all the world to be the result two strikes of pellets from an air weapon. How ever they were created is of little consequence so long after the fact, but I just thought they produced an intriguing image, with a tinge of humour.



105mm f/2.8D EX Sigma macro lens. 1/500 second at f/5.6. - 0.33 EV compensation. ISO 640. Monopod


© 2013

Another seafront haunting...

The no longer sun has his hat on, and after yesterday's bright and clear start to the year we return to light drizzle and leaden skies over Dorset. It is the first day of the return to work after the Christmas period, and from my point of view, winter sets-in in earnest. Having said that, it is far from cold, and it is expected to stay that way for a while yet.

So, doom and gloom (weather-wise) means leaving the all- encompassing wide angle lenses at home for the time being, and on with the humble 50mm prime optic: I'm going to shoot details. I haunt the local seafront for the exercise, taking a good number of less-than-inspiring images as I go, but the process is far from futile. I do this nearly every time I go out on a shoot; warming-up my eye, so to speak, and getting in the frame of mind to look for subjects when none are apparently obvious.

Although nothing comes of the large majority of shots - at the time of writing they have already been deleted from my hard drive - I do find one or two interesting things that will have to wait for another day; a different lens. What does pique my interest, despite the dark skies, is that for a short time I get some photogenic light, albeit about four miles away over Hengistbury Head, courtesy of a thinning of the cloud. A super-telephoto lens would have come in handy at that moment, but I had to make do with what I had (photo).

I do like water as a subject. I've said it numerous times throughout this blog, and no doubt will say it again, and there are numerous photographic techniques that can be used to convey the feel of it. There are those that habitually blur moving water by using slow shutter speeds and small apertures, but more often than not I capture it frozen in the moment. It creates such interesting shapes and textures that way.



50mm f/1.8 AF Nikkor. 1/200 second at f/8.  - 0.33 EV compensation. ISO 400


© 2013

Getting the ball rolling...

Starting the year as I mean to carry on, I'm up before dawn; checking the weather by looking out of the window; packing a camera and two lenses, and off out into the gathering light on my bike to shoot the sunrise. I can't think of a better way to see in the New Year: far better than all that faffing-about the night before and not feeling too good the following morning. Ideally, I could have done with a bit more cloud to spice things up a touch, but it's good enough. I am always drawn to the contrasting colours of first light in the sky, and the tones of the sea under such conditions; complementary (and opposites) on the colour wheel.

I while away a few minutes before the event with a like-minded shooter on the beach, discussing the finer points of nothing in particular, before he decides to move further along the shore and I get to concentrate on the job in hand. It can be a serious distraction - with missed shots - when others attempt to strike up conversations at such times. I think he felt the same. I'm rather surprised to note that I took  39 frames in the 14 minutes it took for the sun to become visible and then deemed too high for the effect to be lost. You don't get long with such subjects, but then there were no distractions.


24-70mm f/2.8G AF-S Nikkor. 1/640 second at f/5.6.  +1 stop EV compensation. ISO 400. Monopod


© 2013