Nearly, but not this time

I was out well before dawn yesterday, and in spite of walking some 6 miles along the coastline in the hope of good photographic light, the winter solstice slipped by under a blanket of thick cloud. 

Not so today. In fact I might have missed everything having dared take notice of what the Met Office had to offer the night before. But that tried and trusted method of look-out-of-the-window weather forecast as dawn approached paid dividends. It so often does. 

There's a fairly stiff easterly breeze blowing when I reach the beach, and the sea and sky are showing a good deal of promise. The pre-dawn images I shot were the best of the session, as with this one taken five minutes before sunrise.

© 2021

Morning walk

Today's weather forecast told of heavily overcast skies, but an expeditious break in the thick cloud during a morning walk produced enough light to make things interesting. A falling tide over a beach reshaped by a recent storm produced ever-changing patterns, and I took photographs until the light had gone.

© 2021

Shapes of things

                                                      A weather front moves slowly east along the Dorset coast.

© 2021

Storm Barra (blowy; not many fish around)

Storm Barra - the latest of who knows how many that will hit the country this coming winter - has by and large skimmed the south coast of the UK. Such atmospheric turbulence will often produce dramatic images if the cloud breaks, and having kept a close eye on the Met Office satellite images all morning I decide a visit to a local beach during mid afternoon might prove fruitful.

Annoyingly, I'm unavoidably delayed by half an hour in getting to where I intend to shoot, but that turned out to be an advantage in the end as I'm only getting the tail-end of the storm. Even so, there's a strong sea running up the beach when I arrive, but the wind has dropped noticeably. Crucially, it's not raining, and that means I'm able to keep the front element of the lens dry.

© 2021

 

Winter light

It's the first day of winter on the meteorological calendar, and I'm out well before dawn in the hope of photographing the sunrise. The intention was to shoot from a high viewpoint, featuring a local pier as foreground interest with the approaching dawn lighting the background. 

That idea was soon dashed as it began to rain as I set up; always an issue as water droplets hitting the front element of the lens can ruin an image. To add to the dilemma, the moment of sunrise happened behind thick cloud, which added no colour at all to the sky.

It wasn't until half an hour later, and once I had moved down to sea level, that the clouds parted and the sky became spectacular.

© 2021

All mine

Storm someone-or-other blows in and out over the weekend, and the energy left behind in the atmosphere after such events very often makes for dramatic skies. The weather forecast for late afternoon looks good, but I'm somewhat surprised upon my arrival that in spite of the great light the local beaches are devoid of photographers.

© 2021

Going longer

 

One sure-fire way to get any photographer to take more pictures is to buy a new piece of equipment; in this case a new lens. When out shooting land or seascapes I only carry two: an ultra-wide and a standard zoom, but have frequently felt I needed a bit more focal length than the latter offered. As a result I've retired my 24-70mm f/2.8 Nikkor and replaced it with a 24-105mm f/4 Sigma Art lens.

An afternoon stroll along the local seafront with the new acquisition proves fruitful, as with this image of a passing shower lit by the setting sun.

© 2021

                                           

                                                                   

Serendipity

It's a 3¾ mile walk along the top of Nine Barrow Down, from Ulwell to Corfe Castle, and yesterday's ramble was so-so photographically; not just because the sky was virtually cloudless, but I also managed to mislay the camera's memory card once I'd got home.

Temperatures have dropped considerably in the past few days and early morning frosts are back. Standard practice when entering a warm environment with cold camera equipment is to allow the bag to reach ambient temperature before opening. This prevents condensation forming on cold surfaces and potentially causing (costly) issues at a later date. To work around this, I remove the memory card before entering the house. That way I can upload files quickly and set about the editing process.

However, it seems that in my rush to get started I put the card down somewhere and then promptly forgot where it was. It can only be in one of two rooms, but just where it has disappeared to remains (at the time of writing) a mystery.

So today I decide to do a re-shoot, and retrace my steps at the same time of day, along the same route... and I'm glad I did. There's a good deal of cloud about this time around, and when the sun breaks through the broken light totally transforms an already breathtaking landscape. The cows are simply a bonus.

Image: From atop Nine Barrow Down, looking towards Corfe Castle.

© 2021

The obelisk

The weather is still unseasonably mild, and pinning my hopes on the forecast being correct (it was), I pack a camera and two lenses and head for the hills on the Isle of Purbeck, Dorset. 

It's a fairly steep climb from Deans Hill bus stop to the obelisk on top of Ballard Down, but that's my starting point for a four mile coastal walk, from thereon downhill all the way to Old Harry Rocks and finally Studland beach.

There is a bit of cloud to give the sky some interest once I'm up there, and I stop to take a number of photographs before it threatens to disappear altogether leaving nothing but blue. The original colour images didn't work as I'd intended, but converting the files to mono made all the difference.

© 2021

15 minute day

Arriving at the waters edge before dawn I knew I wasn't going to get much in the way of good light. The weather forecast warned of thick cloud from dawn to dusk, but the thin strip of clear sky near the horizon showed a bit of promise.

Once the sun appeared it was then just a case of timing shots to get pleasing wave forms on the beach to complete the compositions. 15 minutes later the sun had climbed above the cloud bank and the session was over.

© 2021

Pressing moments

The day started with the idea of a bus ride along the coast followed by a walk home. The weather forecast was for overcast skies all day, so I packed two lenses in the bag that I thought might be of some use: a 50mm f/1.8 and a 10.5mm fisheye - the latter just in case I needed to inject a bit of energy into whatever piqued my interest.

As I neared my intended destination I decided to sit the ride out for as far as the bus went, and ended up in Swanage - a small seaside town on the Dorset coast. At this time of year the place is very quiet, and I spend an hour or some roaming the streets photographing anything I like the look of. It's during this relaxed state of affairs that I notice the break in the cloud cover, moving slowly from north to south.

No mention of this in the forecast. None. I'm at a loss lens wise; I'm either too long (50mm), or too wide (the fisheye) to record the scene, and I'm faced with two options. I can either shoot a panoramic, which will involve an unfeasibly large number of shots to attempt to stitch together in post, or I can press the fisheye into use as a normal wide-angle lens. I choose the latter.

I had to keep the camera level to prevent the horizon curving alarmingly, and crop out a lot of the foreground, but it worked.

© 2021

They're there if I look

It's dark, and there's persistent drizzle as I leave the house at 6:20am and head for the beach. I'm almost 100% certain that there will be no early light to photograph, but the recent early morning sessions have got me motivated to be out and I'm going to shoot, come what may.

There's no hint of colour in the sky as sunrise comes and goes, so I resort to one or two tried-and-trusted spots to see if I can come up with a different perspective; there's always something if I look hard enough.

The light being what it is I make the decision to convert any images I get to monochrome, and it's dear old weather-beaten Groyne #18 that saves the day.

© 2021

Ripples in the sand

For most of the day I've been keeping a watchful eye on the weather system developing in the Western Approaches. What I'm seeing - via the Met Office satellite images - looks favourable, and experience leads me to believe I'm in with a good chance of something spectacular at sunset.

In the event there was little to write home about (let alone photograph), but what I did get made the ripples in the sand at low tide look more compelling.

© 2021

Plan B

 

The original plan was for a walk in the woods on a perfect autumn afternoon, but the sky looked so good en route that Nic and I agreed that it would be a shame to waste it. A swift detour took us to the top of Wye Downs, but it's a big gamble when conditions are already perfect on the way to a chosen location. This time we were lucky.

There's no wind, even at that height, and I was able to shoot numerous frames before the clouds eventually drifted away to the left and the effect on the landscape was lost.

© 2021

Starting to swing

Now that the sun is beginning to rise out to sea I'm starting to get into the swing of things - photographically speaking - for the season. Foliage on trees has yet to turn on its autumn display, so I'm concentrating my efforts on the local beaches, in the hope of good light.

Today's weather forecast doesn't appear to offer anything too exciting, but I decide to go anyway. Hedging my bets, I decide to lug a tripod with me, giving me the option of shooting with long exposures should the need arise.

It did. For the first half hour or so I thought I'd drawn a blank, but a hint of pink on the horizon around 6 minutes before sunrise made the trip worthwhile. The 3 second exposure did the rest.

© 2021

Shower dodging

Nobody mentioned rain this morning on any weather forecast I saw. Nobody. As a result I'm getting an unexpected soaking on my way to the beach. The rain stops long enough after my arrival to encourage me to start to taking photographs, but it's not long before I'm forced to retreat as an intense shower rolls in from the West.

I'm the only person on the seafront (and no wonder), but once the cloud breaks I'm presented with dramatic skies, lit by the sun that is still below the horizon.

© 2021

 

Shut up 'n post photographs

There have been many occasions when I've struggled to write text to accompany the images I use on this blog, and sometimes it puts a stop to making posts altogether if I can't come up with something interesting.

It wouldn't be for the first time that Nic has told me not to bother with writing and simply post a picture. So, taking Nic's advice, and to paraphrase Frank Zappa: I'll shut up and post photographs (at least for the time being).

Image: Boscombe beach - 07:35 today.

© 2021

Right place, right time

                                                               The chance passing of a local pier at low tide.

© 2021

Getting started

                                                The first early start of the season: Boscombe Beach, Dorset

© 2021

The Bournemouth Air Festival, Days 1-4

Having not being run last year due to the Covid-19 pandemic, this year's Air Festival on the south coast of England was something to look forward to. I have taken few photographs during the summer, and it was time for my telephoto lens to get some use.

As always, such events are at the mercy of the weather, but I didn't think for one moment that the shot above would turn out to be the only useable image I liked the look of for the entire weekend. Taken on day one, it was a casual approach - both in time spent and the chosen spot to work from - thinking that since the weather forecast for the remaining three days was favourable I would get better images then.

How wrong can you be? Although a high pressure system sat on top of the UK for the duration, producing fine, settled conditions, the resulting atmospheric haze and humidity reduced visibility to under 2 miles. Any photography was meaningless as displays disappeared into the murk, and in some cases visibility made worse by their own smoke trails.

Photo- The Red Arrows

© 2021

Bryntaf Cemetery, Aberfan

For more years that I can remember I've promised myself that one day I will visit Aberfan, and today I fulfil that promise by setting off at around 5:00 am and driving the 140 miles or so to South Wales.

The site of a tragic disaster that could so easily have been avoided, 144 people died that October morning in 1966; 109 of the 116 children whose futures were snuffed out were either crushed or suffocated in their classrooms when spoil Tip 7 collapsed on the mountainside above. After weeks of heavy rain 110,000 cubic metres of mining waste liquified and slid 650 metres down the hillside engulfing all in its path, including the village's junior school that was just starting its last day before the half-term holiday. 

Mining communities have never been strangers to disaster, with families anxiously waiting for news of loved ones at the pit head, but for the first time in history the roll call for those missing was held in the street. The mine closed in 1989.

The marble arches mark the graves where most of those children are buried, and the area is kept in immaculate condition. I did visit the Memorial Garden - situated on the site where Pantglas Junior School once stood - but took no photographs as it didn't seem the right thing to do.

© 2021

 

 

 

The working landscape

Landscape photography to many people consists of sweeping vistas of mountains, lakes or beaches - and in an alarming number of cases - oversaturated images by overenthusiastic (or reckless) post processing. Known as 'chocolate box' photography it is understandably popular, if somewhat unrealistic, but there are also those sparse, gritty images that are equally valid of the genre.

Dungeness, on the Kent coast, is a favourite location of mine for shooting the working landscape, and although moving just a few feet to my left would have isolated the derelict boat as the main subject I choose to include the nuclear power station that dominates the area.

D500/24-70mm f/2.8 AF-S Nikkor. 1/250 second at f/11. Matrix metering.  + 0.33 EV compensation. ISO 180. Mono conversion in Capture One Pro

© 2021

Goon, but not forgotten

In the cemetery of St Thomas the Martyr, Winchelsea, East Sussex: the final resting place of comic genius Spike Milligan. 

One of the lines on his headstone reads: "Duirt mé leat go raibh mé breoite" 

Translated from the Gaelic is states: "I told you I was ill". 

The Diocese of Chichester wouldn't allow the quip to be carved in English, but were obviously happy enough to allow the script in a foreign language.

D500/12-24mm f/4 AF-S Nikkor. 1/250 second at f/8. Matrix metering. +0.33 EV compensation. ISO 180

© 2021

Summer colour

                                                                          Poppies at Alum Chine, Poole Bay.

Nikon D500/70-200 f/2.8 Sigma lens. 1/250 second at f/4.5. Matrix metering. ISO 100

© 2021
 

Annular eclipse

The British weather, if nothing else, is almost guaranteed to wreck any chance of viewing celestial events when they happen: eclipses (solar and lunar); comets; meteor showers; planetary conjunctions -  you name it, the cloud's got it covered.

Observing - and photographing - today's annular solar eclipse almost fell foul to it, but in the end it worked in my favour. Okay, the eclipse was never going to be as spectacular as that experienced by other countries, but I wanted to at least try to get some something.

Undeterred, I set my camera up in the garden in anticipation as the phenomenon began, but at the same time silently cursing the dense cloud cover that stretched across the entire sky. It was beginning to look hopeless... then I got a break. The eclipse was already well underway when the blanket of cloud suddenly thinned and the pale disc of the sun appeared through the haze above.

I took 63 frames in all, and had it been a clear sky as I'd hoped for, then the whole shoot would have been a disaster. I was struggling with exposure in spite of the cloud, and I don't have a strong neutral density filter to block the light with the lens I'm using; not that one is likely to be commercially available in that size anyway. The Nikkor does have a slot for adding 21mm filters into the optical train, but then again I never thought for one minute I'd ever need one.

Today I got a lucky.

Nikon D500/300mm f/2.8 AF-S Nikkor and TC-14EII converter. 1/8000 second at f/11. Matrix metering. -0.33 EV compensation. ISO 50. Tripod and remote release.

© 2021

Nikon D500 with 300mm f/2.8 AF-S Nikkor and TC-14EII converter.  1/8000 second at f/11. Tripod and remote release.

Nikon D500

Nikon D500 with 300mm f/2.8 AF-S Nikkor and TC-14EII converter.  1/8000 second at f/11. Tripod and remote release.

Nikon D500 with 300mm f/2.8 AF-S Nikkor and TC-14EII converter.  1/8000 second at f/11. Tripod and remote release.

Nikon D500 with 300mm f/2.8 AF-S Nikkor and TC-14EII converter.  1/8000 second at f/11. Tripod and remote release.Nikon D500 with 300mm f/2.8 AF-S Nikkor and TC-14EII converter.  1/8000 second at f/11. Tripod and remote release.Nikon D500 with 300mm f/2.8 AF-S Nikkor and TC-14EII converter.  1/8000 second at f/11. Tripod and remote release.

 Nikon D500 with 300mm f/2.8 AF-S Nikkor and TC-14EII converter.  1/8000 second at f/11. Tripod and remote release.Nikon D500 with 300mm f/2.8 AF-S Nikkor and TC-14EII converter.  1/8000 second at f/11. Tripod and remote release.

Losing control

One of the things I miss about my Olympus Micro Four-Thirds system was the ability to select various picture modes when shooting. Knowing that I am getting the results that appear in the camera's viewfinder in real time made a big difference as to how I approach a subject.

A couple of years ago I had attempted - and failed - to set my DSLR to shoot in monochrome for specific shoots. Everything appeared to be hunky dory at the time until I uploaded the RAW files to my computer, only to find that they still needed to be converted to black & white in an editing suite to get the result I wanted.

It wasn't until early this week (better late than never), that it suddenly occurred to me that it might be possible to set a separate menu bank in the camera to shoot jpegs that would only render in greyscale.

It is. Not only that, but I could also choose to simulate different monochrome filters (yellow, orange and red), as well as several toning effects, all in camera.

I don't shoot jpeg files as standard as I want total control over the final image, but once in a while won't hurt.

Nikon D500/12-24mm f/4 AF-S Nikkor. 1/500 second at f/8. Matrix metering. + 0.67 EV compensation. ISO 100. In-camera jpeg - orange filter 

© 2021

Escapism

As the national lockdown conditions ease here and there, and Covid vaccinations are administered, I'm now able to stretch out a bit and make the drive to visit Nic for the first time in 14 months. 

From a photographic perspective we had hoped for a riotous display of bluebells in the local woods during my stay, but it seems I was a week early. But that didn't stop the hoards of day trippers descending upon the area - for different reasons - so a contingency plan was initiated and we head for the Kent coast.

Samphire Hoe country park, created from the chalk spoils of the Channel Tunnel excavations, as well as featuring walking trails for the public, is also home to nationally rare species of plants.

  

Nikon D500/12-24mm f/4 AF-S Nikkor. 1/500 second at f/8. Matrix metering. + 0.67 EV compensation. ISO 100

© 2021
 

Look out!

The local beach promenade is peppered with graffiti and paintings, commissioned by the Town Council to entertain both visitors and locals alike. 

This example in particular caught my eye, and the rendition of Sandro Botticelli's The Birth of Venus - or as it was somewhat impolitely referred to when I studied at art college: "Quick! Slip Into This, Love. It's A Raid" -  is one such example of Seafront Wall Art to be found along Bournemouth seafront.

Nikon D500/10.5mm f/2.8 AF-S Nikkor Fisheye. 1/400 second at f/11. Matrix metering. + 0.33 EV compensation. ISO 200

© 2021

Waiting

 

                      Beach volleyball courts, waiting for, er... beach volleyball players, at Canford Cliffs, Poole Bay.

Nikon D500/12-24mm f/4 AF-S Nikkor. 1/640 second at f/10. Matrix metering. ISO 100

© 2021

Wave

The early morning start on the beach to photograph the 'Pink Moon' - also a Supermoon - quickly fizzled out as it began to set. I wanted some foreground interest to be included to give a sense of scale, but as the moon dropped towards the horizon it turned into an indistinct pale blur.

But instead of admitting defeat I scanned the shoreline in the hope of finding another subject to photograph, and noticed that breaking waves were catching the sun's rays. Initially shooting into the light I quickly decided nothing was working, but once I turned and had the sun to my back things started to get interesting.

 

300mm f/2.8 AF-S VR Nikkor. 1/2000 second at f/2.8. Matrix metering. Monopod. ISO 100

© 2021

And there it was

Temperatures are at last near average, and today's ramble around a nearby headland eventually leads me to the Dorset Stour. I had been eyeing up the sky for quite a while during the walk, trying to find a suitable foreground subject to do it justice. 

Trees - both living and dead - farm buildings and hedgerows all have photographic potential, but fencing that borders pathways prevents me from getting into positions that would allow good compositions. Then I turn a corner and am presented with the scene above. 

24-70mm f/2.8 AF-S Nikkor. 1/200 second at f/11. Matrix metering. - 0.33 EV compensation. Polarising filter. ISO 200

© 2021

East end(er)

It's quite liberating to occasionally cast technical accuracy to the wind when taking photographs, as here with the East wall of the local priory.

Deciding not to concern myself with correcting converging verticals - or even getting them upright - I turned the camera back and forth looking to produce shapes from both the highlights and shadows. Boosting contrast and applying liberal amounts of digital toning in post processing completed the picture.

12-24mm f/4 AF-S Nikkor. 1/400 second at f/8. Matrix metering. - 0.3 EV compensation. ISO 100

© 2021

Snap out of it

Everything about Spring is being established by nature, apart from the weather. Sleet and snow are still being forecast for parts of the country, and an uncharacteristic cold snap is keeping temperatures in single figures.

300mm f/2.8 AF-S VR Nikkor. 1/5000 second at f/2.8. Matrix metering. -0.3 EV compensation. ISO 100

© 2021

Sometimes

It may well be spring from both an astronomical and meteorological viewpoint, but today there's a northwesterly blowing that belies the season. The wind-chill factor is said to make it feels like it's 2ºC outside, and who am I to argue? It does!

It's not often that I use a super-telephoto just for landscape work, but the lens hasn't had any use over the winter months and it's time it had some exercise. 

 

300mm f/2.8 AF-S VR Nikkor. 1/3200 at f/3.2.  Matrix metering. -0.7 EV compensation. Monopod. ISO 50

© 2021

Red umbrella

It was the vernal equinox yesterday, and for the second time this year I'm out without a coat. I'm only carrying one lens for the morning's walk along the seafront, and I'm on the lookout for details in the landscape.

Sigma 105mm f/2.8 EX DG Macro. 1/800 second at f/8. Matrix metering. - 0.33 EV compensation. ISO 100

© 2021

What a waste

 

Okay, it's just a couple of waste bins on the seafront, but it's the kind of image you occasionally see that gains critical acclaim for famous photographers (William Eggleston, I'm looking at you). Art or not, I took the shot anyway... because it was there.

24-70mm f/2.8 AF-S Nikkor. 1/200 second at f/8. Matrix metering. + 0.67 EV compensation. ISO 100

© 2021

It's in the air

 

Spring isn't spring for me until the day I've photographed the daffodils on the cliffs at Branksome Dene Chine, Poole Bay, Dorset.

Today is that day.

10.5mm f/2.8 AF-S Fisheye Nikkor. 1/1000 second at f/11. - 0.33 EV compensation. ISO 100

© 2021

Maybe possibly

This is the last knockings of the season as far as seascape photography is concerned. Well, at dawn and dusk, as the sun now rises and sets inland. However, I'm always open for some drama in the skies, or the occasional low tide. 

12-24mm f/4 AF-S Nikkor. 1/80 second at f/8. Matrix metering. ISO 200

© 2021 

The last sunrise of winter

 

                                                The last sunrise of winter. Tomorrow is the first day of Spring.

85mm f/1.4 AF Nikkor. 1/200 second at f/5. Matrix metering. + 0.7 EV compensation. ISO 100

© 2021

Yellow plastic bucket

Another cloudless day is forecast for the south coast, and I set off to the beach well before dawn to see if there's anything worthwhile to point my camera at. I'm carrying two lenses: a wide zoom and a fisheye prime. No cloud at all means I'm going to have to work harder to get anything interesting as a seascape, and an extreme focal length such as the fisheye can sometimes get me out of a hole when inspiration is not immediately forthcoming

The plastic bucket was photographed as found, left behind, no doubt, from activities the day before. It caught my eye from a distance and I swiftly decide it will make a better theme than yet another sunrise shot. I get in low and close, and shoot with a wide(ish) aperture. Unfortunately, I overcooked the use of the filter on the sky, and it impinged on my subject.  

Never mind.

12-24mm f/4 AF-S Nikkor. 1/80 second at f/5. Matrix metering. + 1 stop EV compensation. 0.9 Lee reverse grad. ISO 160

© 2021

Beyond reality

Overnight the cloud has broken, and much of the UK is enjoying clear blue skies. It's pleasantly warm in the sunshine, and a far cry from the sub-zero temperatures I had to deal with only a couple of weeks ago. There are reports that parts of the country may reach 17ºC over the weekend. Ridiculous.

The high pressure weather system is forecast to last several days, so I resume my architecture project around town, but this time opting to leave any colour in the image. Deliberate underexposure to tame the reflections off of the walls of the building has saturated the sky well beyond reality, and no filters while shooting - or in post processing - have been used to create the effect.

24-70mm f/2.8 AF-S Nikkor. 1/2000 second at f/8. Matrix metering. - 1 stop EV compensation. ISO 100

© 2021

University challenge

Today's photo project - local architecture - ideally needed direct sunlight to give me the effect I had in mind, but that mental picture evaporated by early afternoon as high cloud rolled in from the south.

Not to be deterred by the diffused light I now had to work with, I set off to photograph the town's university buildings that have sprung up in the past couple of years. My intention from the outset was to produce graphic black and white images: a treatment that I prefer for such subjects.

 

24-70mm f/2.8 AF-S Nikkor. Matrix metering. ISO 100

Top: 1/640 second at f/5.6. Bottom: 1/800 second at f/5.6

Mono conversion in Capture One Pro

© 2021

Blow the wind southerly

The east winds that let us all know that we are still in the depths of winter have moved round to the south, and the temperature has soared to a balmy 11ºC. Signs of Spring are appearing here and there, but for the moment the sky remains overcast.

I'm already thinking in terms of black & white images long before the camera comes out on a walk along the beach this afternoon. I have a 3 stop ND grad on the lens to help boost what is an insipid sky, but the real drama came in post processing.

   

12-24mm f/4 AF-S Nikkor. 1/250 second at f/8. Matrix metering. + 0.3 EV compensation. 0.9 Lee ND grad. Mono conversion in Capture Pro One. ISO 200

© 2021

All to myself

It's another day with temperatures barely above freezing, and to make matters worse the easterly wind is back. Gusting up to 35mph, the chill factor makes it feel more like -5ºC. Mind you, I do have the beach to myself because of it.

 

12-24mm f/4 AF-S Nikkor. 1/125 second at f/8. Matrix metering. +0.7 EV compensation. 0.9 Lee ND grad. ISO 200

©2021

Come together

The cutting easterly winds of the past couple of days have dropped, and it feels nowhere near as cold. However, the air temperature still hovers at 0ºC. Thick loud has been present for most of the day, but I still decide to go for an afternoon beach walk as there are spring tides this week and I may get something useable.

As luck would have it, low tide and a welcome break in the clouds come together at the right moment on Bournemouth beach, and I get some pictures.

 
12-24mm f/4 AF-S Nikkor. 1/100 second at f/8. Matrix metering. +1 stop EV compensation. 0.9 Lee ND grad. ISO 100

© 2021

Believable

I awoke this morning to a dusting of snow. Barely enough to leave footprints in, but snow all the same. The entire UK is currently in the grip of a cold snap, and the biting easterly winds are letting us know all about it.

It's early afternoon when the cloud cover breaks, and once it does I'm off to the beach for some photography. The Met Office weatherman says that outside temperatures - with the windchill factored in - will feel like -6ºC... and I believe him.

12-24mm f/4 AF-S Nikkor. 1/200 second at f/8. Matrix metering. 0.9 Lee ND grad. ISO 100

© 2021 

Creeping up again

Although the number of images I've produced show otherwise, it feels to me that I haven't had much in the way of light during the winter months.,

It's early February, and that sun is getting alarmingly high in the sky again.
 

12-24mm f/4 AF-S Nikkor. 1/000 second at f/8. Matrix metering. - 0.3EV compensation. 0.9 Lee ND grad. ISO 100

© 2021

Winter light (for DCB)

                                                                                                 Winter light.

12-24mm f/4 AF-S Nikkor. 1/400 second at f/8. Matrix metering. 0.9 Lee ND grad. Mono conversion and tinted in Capture One Pro. ISO 100 

© 2021