Falling

Three weeks into winter, with 2 days until the solstice, and day and night time temperatures still hover around 11ºC. This makes pre-dawn starts all the more bearable, especially when walking, but I know the season has yet to bite.

The image of Branksome Chine beach was taken on a falling tide, 23 minutes after sunrise.

© 2023

Solo effort #2

Is it me, or are conditions like this just not photogenic? The sun has popped up over the horizon, and heavy cloud has rolled in from the west to produce a spectacular sky with light to match. I rattle off what would have been the equivalent of two rolls of film in my pre-digital days, anxious not to miss the show, but I'm amazed at the indifference to it all shown by others nearby.

People are out walking or jogging, or exercising their dogs - stopping to form small groups of threes and fours to chat - but nobody, and I mean nobody, seems to want to record the scene for posterity, mobile phones or not.

Deep down I'm secretly pleased, as I know nobody else has the shots I'm getting, but it does make me wonder.

© 2023

Solo effort #1

This particular structure on a local beach has been photographed many, many times before (self included); social media bears grim witness to that. I have even watched others form a queue, waiting patiently in line for the opportunity to take a near-identical image as the last photographer. 

I have no qualms about reusing the location today, because apart from the spectacular dawn light, I'm the only person there getting the shot.

© 2023

A piece of luck

There is often an element of luck with landscape photography. Conditions may well be ideal at a chosen location, but then something can happen that elevates the scene to another level.

To be honest, the light didn't get any more interesting that what you see, but the sudden stirring of pigeons feeding on the beach behind me produced this image as they flew overhead. I managed just three shots before the flock became too small in the frame.

© 2023

Making progress

I've yet to perfect this shot of the obelisk and surrounding countryside on Ballard Down, Isle of Purbeck, but I feel I'm getting close.

© 2023

Sheep

                                                                                     Rustic harmony

© 2023

When the sun goes low...

                                                                          Late afternoon, Boscombe beach.

© 2023

LSWR T3 - No. 563

The recently restored LSWR T3 class locomotive No. 563, running at Corfe Castle, Dorset. Built in 1893, the engine hadn't steamed for over 75 years.

Hving dodged the scrapyard in 1948 the engine was donated by the National Railway Museum to the Swanage Railway in 2017, whereupon it underwent 6 years of restoration, at a cost of £650,000.

© 2023

Leave it alone

Created by the design studio Lucid Creates, the 15 metre (49 foot) high illuminated portal that stands on a local beach has, naturally, attracted mixed feelings.

Part of the Arts by the Sea Festival, and only scheduled to remain there for a week, the arch has been mostly welcomed by the locals, as well as visitors to the area. But the inevitable 'criticism/objection/can't see the point of it' by a small minority to the local town council has prompted the latter to announce its early removal. 

However, it looks as if by the time the contractors that erected the work are booked to dismantle it, the arch will have remained in position for as long as intended

© 2023

Deal pier

               Just before the skies parted, and we ventured inland to sample the culinary delights of Deal, Kent.

© 2023

Cloud echo

                                                             A tree and its attendant cloud, Nine Barrow Down.

© 2023

On Ballard Down

                                                              One of the occasional inhabitants of Ballard Down.

© 2023
 

Rendezvous Street

                                                                 A wall in the Creative Quarter of Folkestone.

© 2023

The village of Corfe Castle

Named after the Norman castle ruins, Corfe Castle village nestles in a gap in the chalk ridge that makes up part of the Purbeck hills. The castle has to be one of the most photographed locations in the county, so it's something of a challenge to come up with something different.

Photographed on the descent of Nine Barrow Down (the Ordnance Survey map show 12 Anglo-Saxon tumuli), the Down is 196 metres above sea level at its highest point. It's something that separates the casual snapper from the more determined shooter, as the climb is either long and slow, or swift but steep, depending on which end you start.

There's a shot here that I have yet to perfect, and I know it will be down to chance when - or if - I get it.

© 2023

Cathedral of the Purbecks*

For such a small parish - the 2011 census estimated 166 residents in the village of Kingston - the Church of St James's on the Isle of Purbeck, Dorset, is a substantial size for its purpose. Because of its proportions it is also known locally by the title of this post.

Built on the site of a chapel of ease that had existed since the 12th century, work began on the current building in 1874, and took six years to complete.

*Purbecks is a misnomer, much to the annoyance of the local inhabitants.

© 2023

Misty days

 

© 2023

Won't be so many more days

    

It has been something of an uneventful winter season as far as seascape photography goes, with extended periods of high pressure that either kept the skies clear, or allowed a thick blanket of cloud to remain in place over the country. I am assured - according to the Met Office - that this has been mainly due to the positioning of the jet stream over the North Atlantic. 

In effect, there have been few storms to stir up the atmosphere, which in turn creates great cloud formations coupled with dramatic light. There won't be many more days to shoot as the sun is beginning to rise inland, and the time of year will have passed.

© 2023

Blue door

At 5 a.m. today the Met Office web site shows no cloud to the south as far as France. This almost certainly means nothing too photogenic as the sun rises, so my wide-angle lens stays at home in favour of the super-telephoto. Lugging a 300mm f/2.8 lump of glass to the beach (lugging this lump of glass anywhere) is becoming a chore these days, but the hope is I'll get some good images as the sun's orb breaks the horizon over the sea.

I don't. What I'm seeing on the camera's screen as I shoot is anything but exciting, so instead I turn the lens inland to photograph the light - or more accurately - the effects of it. The door is painted blue, but the early direct light of the sun, 12 minutes after it has appeared, changes the colour completely.

 2023

Double the fun

Any break - however small - with the current monotony of the cloud blanket that has parked itself over the country gets serious consideration for a photo shoot, so in the pre-dawn I set off once again in the hope some spectacular images at day-break.

Initially it looks hopeful, but after some 45 minutes of expectation the best I get is a splash of colour (above) before the light has goes and it starts to rain. I take some shots all the same, grateful for what nature has been all-too-reluctant to offer in recent weeks, then decide I'm not going to waste the outing altogether and walk the seven miles along the coast to the harbour crossing ferry before getting the bus home.

Two thirds of the way into the walk I glance to my left and note that waves are producing interesting patters on the beach and the sky has, indeed, become interesting. Not wasted after all.

© 2023

2023

Okay, the second half of last year was a wash-out from a photographic point of view. The unusually high summer temperatures put me off going outside unless necessary, and my reacquaintance with music (and the electric guitar) took up most of my energies from then on.

When I did find the time and inclination to get out somewhere with a camera, more often than not the light was less than inspiring. Add to that, the last week of 2022 and I was laid-up with the Covid-19 virus.

Today is my first day out of isolation - and out of the house since Christmas - and the dawn light gives me something to point a lens at.

© 2023