Winter solstice dawn

It's the winter solstice in the northern hemisphere, and at the moment of sunrise the sun is nowhere to be seen. There is a vague pink tinge in the sky to the east as dawn approaches - and I take a few insurance shots - but decide there's nothing really worth seeing.

Instead, I start shooting with black & white conversions in mind.

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Early morning light

 

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From monochrome, to monochrome

I'm on the beach roughly 30 minutes before sunrise, in the hope of something spectacular. There is a good deal of broken cloud in the sky and it all looks very promising, so I get my camera ready... and wait.

Sunrise itself comes and goes, but there's almost no colour in the sky. Instead, the scene maintains a monochromatic grey, which is rmoather disappointing.

But all is not lost, as I select the frame with the best foreground water pattern and go to town with a secondary mono treatment.

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Predetermined

Early starts are that much more convenient now that the clocks have been returned to Greenwich Mean Time (GMT). In addition, the sun barely creeps into the sky at my latitude during the winter months; rising and setting over the sea. This often produces opportunities for spectacular seascape images, and all during 'office hours'.

In spite of the broken cloud at sunrise today there are only shades of grey in the sky, so I decide that everything I photograph will be converted to black and white.

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Shower dodging (well, almost)

 

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Big clouds

                                                    Big storm clouds, but without the storm: my kind of sky.

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Early morning beach

Bouts of strong winds and torrential rain - interspersed with a few hours of calm - seem to be the norm this week as yet another battering rolls in off the Atlantic. And whilst it's not exactly the kind of autumn weather you want to be strolling around in, it does provide plenty of atmospheric turbulence for seascape photography.

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The wind can't blow 'cause the sky is gone

It has been quite some time since I've posted anything on this blog. I have been out shooting - albeit at my usual summer's snail's pace - but what with one thing and another I've simply not got around to uploading any images. The backlog of pictures will be put right in the next day or so.

Peering out of an upstairs window shortly after 4 a.m. I see a good amount of broken cloud; ideal conditions for something spectacular in the sunrise department I think, and head for the beach. But nature being what it is it had all but dispersed as dawn broke. 

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On the turn

The unseasonably warm weather is delaying the visible onset of autumn, but at last the trees are beginning to turn in the Dorset countryside.

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Looking back

                                               Corfe Castle, with its namesake village, viewed from West Hill.

It's rare that I climb the hill that overlooks this well-known Dorset landmark, but today I make the effort and have a few minutes before I lose the light and it starts to rain.

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Far Corfe view

                                                                 Corfe Castle, viewed from Sandy Hill.

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On display

It's Monday morning, and whilst most people are making their way to work it's just me and the pigeons down by the seaside.

This time nature obliges with a display of colour.

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Never before

24º C at 7:00 a.m. is not normal for this country. Neither is the projected 41º in some parts of the country later in the day. For the first time an Extreme Weather warning has been issued by the Met Office, and many people are struggling to cope.

The fact is, the UK is simply not prepared for such conditions, unlike our European neighbours - and other hot climates - that adjust their working practices to avoid the heat of the day (siesta), or have air-conditioning at home or in the workplace. Temporary as this heatwave may be, it is surely a warning of things to come.

Addendum: Heathrow broke the 40ºC mark at 12:50 p.m.

 

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Christmas gift from 2019

Inflating the envelope
 

Leeds Castle

Gaining altitude

Flying high enough to see the curvature of the Earth (actually it's shot using a fisheye lens)

Shortly after landing

Delayed because of the Covid pandemic lockdowns - and several cancellations thereafter because of un-flyable weather - it was shortly after 6 a.m. today that the Spitfire balloon took off from the grounds of the Great Danes Hotel* near Hollingbourne, Kent, with Nic and I onboard.

Operated by Kent Ballooning, the flight (in perfect conditions), reached an altitude of 3,000 feet, lasted 1 hour 25 minutes and covered 9.8 miles (15.2 km), before making a textbook landing at the Kent Glider Club.

*One of the hotels used by The Beatles during the filming of Magical Mystery Tour.

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126 Panorama Road

I have passed this wall numerous times over the years, but it's only recently that I noticed the sign at the entrance to the above address. Of course, the locals knew its significance at the time, as it was of the bungalow that John Lennon bought for his Aunt Mimi (Smith) in 1965.

After her death the house, then known as Harbour's Edge, was sold and later demolished in 1994 to make way for a new property on the site. It's nice to see the current owners are keeping the spirit alive.

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No relation

I hadn't planned to do a hill walk today (no, really), but it was the spontaneous boarding of a passing bus and the lure of an interesting sky that led me to the top of Ballard Down by early afternoon.

I had already made the decision to shoot in black and white before I arrived, choosing to photograph my subjects in their own right, rather than how they relate with their surroundings in the landscape. That way I could make the most of those skies.

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Hard to resist

No more climbing in the hills until autumn? Did I recently say that? Well, yes, I did, but when the skies are like this it would be churlish to ignore such activities.

Mid-day light at this time of year can be brutal - especially when it's clear - but the constantly moving clouds produce shadows that give shape to the landscape.

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Later that same day...

Not content with photographing the solstice dawn, I take a morning trip to the Purbeck hills, primarily because the sky looks so interesting and I might get something good.

This lone tree on Nine Barrow Down is echoed by the cloud formation above it. I use a polarising filter to increase the contrast, knowing full well I will convert the image to black and white when I get home.

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Solstice dawn: 4:46 a.m.

The alarm on my phone wakes me up at 3:30 a.m. and I'm up shortly afterwards, peering out of the window at the approaching dawn. Having made a swift appraisal of the weather conditions - there's some high-level cloud to the east, but otherwise clear - I grab my Lowepro and travel no further than my local park to photograph the solstice sunrise.

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White Cliffs Country

Looking west towards Port of Dover

South Foreland Lighthouse.

This morning should have featured a hot air balloon flight, but for the umpteenth time since the start of the Covid pandemic it has been cancelled; this time due to poor weather. 

Intent on not wasting what are still decent conditions, Nic and I visit the South Foreland Lighthouse - situated near St Margaret's Bay - and walk the cliff path to Fan Bay Deep Shelter.*

The route provides panoramic views of the English Channel - and on a clear day to France - as well as the famous White Cliffs.

*Tunnels constructed 23 metres below the chalk cliffs to provide shelter and accommodation for the artillery battery during World War II.

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The last day of Spring.

The last day of Spring, and quite possibly the last day walking in the surrounding hills... at least until autumn. 

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Knocking-off time

Although the holiday season is yet to get into full swing, the local beaches are notably deserted. Showery weather is the most likely cause, and after a second afternoon downpour the on-site lifeguard decides he's had enough for one day.

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St James church

 

Late spring, and nature is back in full swing on the Isle of Purbeck

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Red

                                                                                                Bus stop wall.

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The urban micro landscape

                                                                                                  City leaf.

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Fresh

 

Newly painted sign detail, Bournemouth beach.

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Something that caught my eye

 

Beach kiosk, Portman Ravine, Dorset

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Blue and red

Branksome Chine beach.

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Monochrome

Top: Café window, Boscombe beach.

Below: CCTV mast, Canford Cliffs.

                                                                           

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The last sunrise of winter

I'm sure I've used that title before, but it is what it is. 

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My favourite trees

Corfe Castle, Isle of Purbeck, is at the end of today's 8 mile ramble with my camera through the Dorset countryside. The weather has been very good all the way, and the ever changing sky has produced some wonderful light for landscape photography.

It looked like the heavens were about to open as I arrived, but the rain held off and after thirty minutes or so the sun broke through the clouds once more.

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Just after sunrise

                                                                            Branksome Chine beach, Poole Bay.

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What more can I say?

                                                                                           Low tide at sunset.

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I give up

Sea and landscape photography is all about the light. Stating the obvious, I fancy, but being able to accurately predict weather conditions plays a major part in the success or failure of a shoot. I'm currently using two web sites in an attempt to get reliable forecasts: the UK's Met Office, and more recently, AccuWeather. 

Today they contradict each other (as is often the case); one advises me of 95% cloud cover all day, the other indicates sun and showers, but during late afternoon. Both, as it turns out, are wrong for the most part.

Unable to garner any useful information from what's on offer I set out before dawn regardless, if only for the enjoyment of the walk, and am presented with the above scene about an hour after sunrise.

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Tearing it up

An unexpected break in the cloud cover on a morning walk gives me shifting pools of light to work with. Two exuberant dogs complete the scene.

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Going viral

It's a phenomenon I've been aware of for many years, and it usually goes as follows: You think you're producing good work but it gets little recognition, but when you just know a performance is mediocre it gets mass acceptance and praise. It's frustrating, but it is exactly what has happened regarding this image.

I took the photograph more or less as a casual snap once I had arrived at the water's edge, and although there was the usual degree of care with the composition, I thought little of it at the time. Processing the file later in the evening, I offhandedly posted it on a local social media site... and it went viral.

Granted, the scene has a bit drama in it, but personally I don't see what all the fuss was about.

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Echo

Almost three weeks into the year and I haven't taken a photograph that I'm pleased with. It's not for the want of trying, but numerous visits to beaches and hikes in the hills haven't produced the goods... until today.

Sunrise at 8am wasn't anything special because of too much cloud cover, but after an hour or so the clouds parted for long enough to give me some fleeting light before rain rolled in from the west.

I particularly like the way the shapes in the wet sand echo those of the sky.

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