Intimate seascapes...

During the summer months - and particularly during the holiday season of a seaside town - it is next to impossible to get shots like this. There is far too much human traffic on the sands of Poole Bay, Dorset, to allow time for wind-blown sand to make interesting patterns, even if I did shoot at either end of the day. The fact that these beaches are now largely deserted is a boon from my point of view.

A medium focal length macro lens is a useful asset for such photography, as I can fill the frame with small subjects but still keep a respectful distance (read: not grovelling around on my knees), or grovelling around on my knees (as I did for this shot) to get in close and exclude unwanted elements. It also still pleasantly warm, making the photography a relaxing and therapeutic exercise.

Such photography has been described as the 'intimate landscape', where instead of trying to fill the frame with as much information as possible with a wide angle lens, the idea is to isolate small features within the vista presented by nature, more often than not overlooked by the vast majority of people (and photographers).

With today's photograph I'm taken by the weathered feather and the undulations of the sand thrown into relief by the late afternoon sun, and although there are hundreds of such little still life shots in situ to be had, each one is unique, and therefore worth capturing.


105mm f/2.8D EX Macro Sigma lens. 1/320 second at f/11. ISO 320


© 2012

Almost there...

There are spring tides this week in Poole Bay, Dorset, and I'm out with my camera during late afternoon, looking for shots when they are at their lowest. It is something of a favourite subject of mine, as the retreating sea leaves behind pristine sand, and the opportunity to photograph all sorts of textures, objects, and reflections in tide pools. I have to time my arrival well as the smooth areas of the exposed shore can soon be marred by others walking the area, and arrive at Boscombe beach at low water (17.14 hours).

I'm blessed not only with a good beach, but also a good sky, and I use a polarising filter to accentuate the cirrus clouds.  Composing the shot so that the late afternoon sun is just out of frame, I use the reflection of the groyne marker and the lengthening shadows to my advantage, and start making photographs.

There is already a noticeable difference in the quality of light at this time of year: autumn starts this weekend (the equinox is this coming Saturday). My photographic season starts then. Can't wait.


12-24mm f/4G AF-S Nikkor. 1/250 second at f/11. + 0.33 EV compensation. ISO 400. Polarising filter


© 2012

One shot and move on...

I'm back on the beaches again, working myself up for the low spring tides predicted for Poole Bay early next week, shooting anything I like the look of. At this time of year they are largely deserted, despite the good weather, as kids have returned to school and the holiday season is all but over. It won't be long until I get the place to myself again.

As yesterday, I am working to a specific brief that I have set myself, and this is based on the work ethic of American photographer William Eggleston: ordinary subject-matter, and only one shot of that subject before moving on to the next. My usual approach is to take a series of photographs of any given thing (assuming that opportunity exists) - 'working the scene' - as it is known. It has the obvious advantage of being able to select the shot that works best when the files are opened on my computer screen, but that alone has its drawbacks. I am sometimes faced with a sequence so similar in characteristics that it becomes quite difficult to select just the one. It is rather liberating to take a different approach once in a while, and work quickly.

This was, once again, brought home this morning as I began one of my ruthless edits of unused RAW files residing on my hard drive - languishing there since May. I deleted nearly a thousand pictures into the trash, and I am still roughly half way through the process. It is a tiresome business that is best avoided by good housekeeping, but with me that is easier said than done. I would rather be out taking photographs that stuck in front of my iMac.


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


© 2012

Overdone...

I don't use filters in front of the lens very often, these days. Instead, I opt to add any sort of graduated or warm-up filters in Adobe Photoshop during post production. It saves a lot of time doing it this way, and I can always opt to undo the filter effect before saving the finished file should I judge it to be unsuitable for the image I am working on. This way I can tweak away until I am satisfied I have what I'm after on the computer screen.

There is one exception to this approach, and that is the use of the polarising filter. As yet, editing software cannot reproduce the effects of this filter in its entirety, since it has many and varied uses: darkening blue skies and increasing contrast between that and clouds; removing reflections from non-metalic surfaces, such as water, glass, paintwork and foliage (useful for shooting landscapes), and as a neutral density filter, since it blocks the light of all colours of the visible spectrum.

For all the benefits, it does have it's drawbacks (isn't that always the case?), as it sucks up to two stops of light entering the camera, and it can look quirky when used with ultra-wide angle lenses, since one side of the frame can be polarised whilst the other side is not. The filter can also impart a cool feel to the image, and some warming may be necessary to create a more pleasing photograph to the eye.

Therefore it is necessary to use this filter carefully, as too much can ruin a shot completely. However, today I am out in the bright, clear sunshine of late summer/early autumn, armed with the filter in question, and determined to do just that: overdo it. I am trying to produce over-saturated colours - by no means natural - purely for pictorial effect, and I achieve that with this image of a beach hut on the seafront of Poole Bay, Dorset. I rotated the polariser for maximum effect, and managed to turn the blue sky an inky black, which shows how easily it is to create something that cannot be undone at a later stage.


24-70mm f/2.8G AF-S Nikkor. 1/640 second at f/5.6. + 0.67 EV compensation. ISO 320. Polarising filter


© 2012

Enamel signs and Bulleid Pacifics...

I must be getting cranky about photography, because unless there are adverse conditions to inspire me I am just not happy. Today is a fine example: the Swanage Steam Gala. Run over three days, the 6 mile-long heritage railway run as much steam as possible - occasionally borrowing engines from other railways for the event. The weekend is set to have warm, sunny weather - ideal from their perspective for attracting large crowds to help swell the coffers - but it does little to produce images with a bit of grit to them.

I photograph a number of trains as they pull fare paying passengers up and down the line, but it is the advertising signs that adorn the platforms of Corfe Castle station that interest me more than any of the engines and rolling stock on display.

There are, of course, the ever-present multitudes of rail enthusiasts chasing everything that moves with both still and video cameras, as well as those that persist in leaning out of the carriages to record their journey for posterity, but sadly today I am not one of them. I could do with a bit of rail or hail to spice it all up a bit.

So, back to the colourful enamel signs: From a bygone age (in keeping with other paraphernalia that adds atmosphere to the platforms) - and in at least in one instance, potentially illegal (the cigarette advertisement; but since the brand name with "wild" in it only exists in Australia then maybe it's okay), I begin to wonder if they are, in fact, authentic.

Whilst shooting each one, I engage in a conversation with a fellow snapper, and debate whether or not they are original. He thinks they are the genuine article, based on the thickness of the metal they are painted on, but if that is the case then surely they are of value - at least to collectors? I suggest that they might be targets for unscrupulous souls that might "liberate" them to make a quick buck. We acknowledge each other's opinion, agree that they are rather splendid, and leave it at that.

I particularly like the starch sign (right), that not only demands you use this brand to the exclusion of all others, but it reinforces the fact that it is sold in cardboard boxes. Whether that had any bearing on the properties of the product - shelf life-wise or performance-wise - I have no idea, but so long as it  "gives sparkling crispness to linens, cottons and lace" (company claim), what more could you ask for? Nothing, that's what. Buy some today!

Oh yes, the train! It turned out to be the best shot of the day (left), so I thought I should include it here. The SR 4-6-2 "Battle of Britain" Class No. 34070 Manston, it ran on the Kent Coast line during the 1950s before being moved to Dover in 1955, where it was used on the Continental boat trains. After the electrification of the line in 1961, Manston no longer had work for it, and it finally ended up at Exmouth Junction, where it was operated by Southern Railway until its withdrawal from service in 1964. It was rescued from the scrapyard in 1978.

Thought you might like to know that - (all gleaned from the Swanage Railway web site. You didn't think I walked around with all that in my head, did you?).




Enamel signs: 24-70mm f/2.8G AF-S Nikkor.
Manston: 300mm f/2.8 AF-S VR Nikkor


© 2012

No, not yet...

I've heard it several times already: It's autumn. The end of summer comes on the last day of August, yet nature still shows no sign of the colour yet to come. In fact you could be forgiven for thinking it was the height of summer in the southern part of the UK this week, with clear skies expected and temperatures touching 27ºC (81ºF) by the weekend.

Even so, I'm out on my bike in search of the early signs of my favourite time of the year, with all its colours, smells and stunning light. I pay a visit to the Stour Valley Nature Reserve, and although there is a vague tint of yellow on some trees it is definitely not happening yet - nor do I expect it to - not until next month, at the least.

Instead I point my camera at the river to shoot reflections, and the more abstract they are, the better. Life-like reflections have their place, but occasionally it can be fun to attempt to come up with something more impressionistic with just the camera alone. I do toy with the idea of fitting a polariser and reducing the amount of reflection I get, but what would be the point? It does make it onto the end of my lens - where it remains during the shoot - but rotated so it has little to no effect. This, of course, is pointless, as it only reduces the amount of light reaching the sensor - nothing else - but since I was not shooting hand-held it didn't bother me unduly. However, it is not recommended. What I did do to achieve something different than what the camera recorded, was to turn one of the images here upside down, just for the fun of it.


70-200mm f/2.8D Apo Sigma lens.
Top left: 1/100 second at f/6.3. - 0.33 EV compensation
Right: 1/160 second at f/5.6.  - 0.33 EV compensation
ISO 500


© 2012

The Few...

Day four: Although there may seem madness in the method, there is at least method. Today, we are back in Kent, visiting the Battle of Britain Memorial: the National Memorial to the Few - who fought in the skies overhead in 1940. The site is situated at Capel-le-Ferne, above the famous White Cliffs, between Folkstone and Dover, on the South coast of the UK, and was chosen as it played a part in both World Wars of the 20th Century.

Behind the seated airman, forever gazing out to sea, is a wall containing all the names of nearly 3,000 aircrew who fought in the battle. Opened in 1993, the area is circled by high grassy banks, and is designed on the form of an aircraft propellor with the pilot at its centre. There are also replicas of a Vickers-Supermarine Spitfire and Hawker Hurricane aircraft - both so crucial to the outcome of the fight to prevent invasion - and the Battle of Britain Trust is currently raising money for a new visitor centre, which will be in the shape of a Spitfire wing, echoing the two stone signs at the entrance to the area.


12-24mm f/4G AF-S Nikkor. 1/200 second at f/11. + 0.67 EV compensation. ISO 400. Monopod.


© 2012

Afterburner...

Today, Nic and I are back in the Dorset town of Bournemouth, for the last day of the annual, award winning, Air Festival: Free, and by the sea. As always, these events are at the mercy of the weather, but the fact that it is spread over four days gives spectators a fighting chance of at least one day of favourable conditions.

Unfortunately, on the day we visit the light is not co-operating, making it difficult to get good images. Difficult, yes; but not impossible. Despite the grey skies, I see the opportunity to capture a bit of colour and drama during the display of two RAF Tornado jets (the penultimate performance of the afternoon) by concentrating on the after-burners and the condensation forming over the wings during tight turns. To maximise this effect, I deliberately under expose, and choose my time carefully to fire a short burst of frames to get the results I am after.


300mm f/2.8 AF-S VR Nikkor with TC-14EII converter. 1/1600 second at f/6.3. - 0.33 EV compensation. ISO 500. Monopod.


© 2012

Oare Marshes...

Over the next few days I am staying with my friend and fellow photographer, Nic, and the time will be split between Dorset and Kent - photographing this; watching that - and generally having a good time of it all.

First off, it is an early evening trip to Oare Marshes, on the south bank of the Swale Sea Channel, near Faversham, Kent. The site is an internationally important nature reserve, but there is also a history of the manufacture of gunpowder and boat building, although the former is long gone and there is scant evidence of the latter, these days.

The photograph shows the joining of the Faversham (left) and Oare Creek (foreground) at Hollowpoint. The tide is clearly out at the time of shooting, but the creeks and channels are open for navigation when the water returns at this remote and tranquil area.


24-70mm f/2.8 AF-S Nikkor. 1/125 second at f/8. ISO 640


© 2012

Bournemouth Air Festival, 2012...

The first day of the annual Bournemouth Air Festival 2012, Dorset, and it is opened in style by the emotional return of the Red Arrows, at 3pm. As is to be expected, the close formation flying and "synchro pair" are of the highest standard, but their usual number is reduced by two, owing to one of its pilots transferring to a ground based role, and as a result a second aircraft being removed from the team to preserve the symmetry of the formation.

The nice thing about this particular air festival is that it is a four day event, and I can opt to experiment with camera angles and locations, as I did today. Instead of positioning myself at the centre of the action I decide to shoot at a distance of around two miles, using a telephoto lens. It can be a risk as I am having to deal with atmospheric turbulence at such a range, but I still manage a number of useable images. However, I conclude that is little to be gained - if anything - by doing this, so in future I will endeavour to get into the thick of it as frequently as possible.

However (there's always one of those, isn't there?) I do benefit from being outside of the designated display area with the faster display jets, such as   with the Hawker Hunter "Miss Demeanour" (right), painted in its unique colour scheme for no other reason than to make it a work of art. The pilot is making his turns overhead and I am able to get some photographs other than just profile pictures.


300mm f/2.8 AF-S VR Nikkor

Top: 1/4000 second at f/5.5. + 0.33 EV compensation
Right: 1/1250 second at f/5.6. + 0.33 EV compensation
ISO 400


© 2012

Always follow your dreams...

Having been designed by local school children, the 5 metre-high permanent memorial to Flt. Lt. Jon Egging - "Eggman"- Red 4, went on display on Bournemouth's East Cliff this afternoon during a private ceremony, attended by members of The Red Arrows and the former pilots wife. It was Dr Egging that chose the winning entry for the design from entries following a competition amongst local schools in the town.

The three aircraft are made of glass, with stainless steel contrails, each one containing 60 glass beads in the team's traditional colours of red, white and blue. The whole thing weighs-in at one tonne. There is also a plaque set into stone in front of the sculpture, with the inscription:


                                  Always follow your dreams
                                               Blue skies

Memorial to Flt. Lt. Jon Egging - Eggman - Red 4
who tragically died when his Hawk aeroplane crashed after displaying at the Bournemouth Air Festival on 20 August 2011

Memorial unveiled on 29 August 2012 by:

The Worship The Mayor of Bournemouth Cllr Phil Stanley-Watts, Dr Emma Egging (Jon's wife),
Dawn Egging (Jon's mother), Flt. Lt. Ben Plank (Red 6) of the RAF Red Arrows and James Godley (Jon's childhood friend).

Design based on an original idea by pupils from Kinson Primary School, Bournemouth.
Bournemouth Borough Council commissioned artist Tim Ward of Circling the Square to create this Memorial



© 2012

Big sky...

Although I've been told that the subject is taboo until the month of September, I'm going to say it anyway: today I got the first hint of autumn light. It is still warm enough - and will, hopefully, continue to be so - for a good while yet, but it is definitely there.

I had planned on a walk along the sea front - keeping an eye out for the local kestrel - but got no further than the cliff tops of Southbourne. It is a clear day with a brisk southern breeze, and the cloud formations alone were deserving the attentions of my lens, this afternoon.

It is odd that I seem to be taking so many photographs from one particular spot at the moment, but it does afford me a sweeping vista of Poole Bay, Dorset; the Isle of Wight and the distant hills of the Isle of Purbeck. Maybe I chose the location instinctively, as a starting-off point, and whilst writing this it has given me the idea for an ongoing project.

Anyway, back on topic; the upper and lower level clouds are moving across the sky at different speeds, and the wind shear in the upper atmosphere is producing some spectacular results, as with today's image, taken from the same place as this shot, except with a wide angle lens as opposed to a super-telephoto. I have the sun in the shot, so I need to be careful I don't end up with a grossly underexposed photograph. Even so, using Aperture Priority mode, I only need to add ⅔ of a stop extra to the camera's suggested exposure to produce a workable RAW file.


12-24mm f/4G AF-S Nikkor. 1/1250 second at f/8. + 0.67 EV compensation. ISO 200


© 2012

Once in a while...

Whenever questioned about digital photography, and whether or not it is a better medium than film, I alway clearly and emphatically state that yes, it is, and from my perspective there will be no turning back. However, there is the occasional (and rare) moment when I would like to wheel-out one of my film cameras, just to take images like the one here.

At one time I was able to kick-start a barren period of photography by using a specialist emulsion, such as infrared - something not so easy to do with a digital SLR. There are ways, of course, as it is perfectly feasible to have a body converted (at a price) solely for infra-red shooting, but the modification is permanent. Doing this would deprive me of my back up camera; something I am not prepared to sacrifice.

The thing is, that this type of photography is fun, inasmuch as that it is somewhat unpredictable. The photograph of St. John the Evangelist church at Holdenhurst Village, Dorset, was the very first exposure made by me on such film, and although I had read articles on the subject beforehand, it was still largely guesswork. For one, I had to manually focus the lens onto the special infrared index mark on the lens barrel, as the unseen rays are longer than visible light. I also needed a deep red filter over the lens to block most of the visible spectrum. Having done all this; and set up on a tripod due to long shutter speeds, I had to guess at exposure since the camera's meter didn't respond to infrared radiation. All rather jolly.

The resulting negatives were rather dense - despite some serious bracketing at the shooting stage - and the best of them required a basic exposure of five minutes at f/8 in the enlarger! Of course, now I am able to scan the negative and work on the image in Adobe Photoshop, which gives me far greater control, but not quite such fun when something pleasing comes up in the developer. Those were the days!



24mm f/2.8 Zuiko lens. Kodak Wratten 25 filter. Kodak High-Speed Infrared film (HIE), rated at ISO 50. Tripod and cable release. July 6th, 1986


©  1986-2012

Not text book material...

I have preached the idea in the past, so today I take a slice of my own advice and shoot wildlife on my doorstep. There is plenty to be found in your garden if you look, or, should you not have one of your own, the local park, or as in this case, the local golf course.

I'm after dragonfly - nature's little helicopters - and they can be surprisingly easy to photograph, purely because they so are fiercely territorial. An individual, such as this Common Darter (Sympertrum striolatum), will usually have a favourite perch over water, such as a small branch or reeds, and will repeatedly return to its chosen spot after flying off to hunt, or patrol its area and ward-off would be threats (such as other dragonflies). All the photographer has to do is focus on that spot; wait, and fire the shutter at the appropriate moment. Easy-peasey.

Well, maybe not that simple, as successful images do require suitable lighting and positioning of the camera, which is not always feasible. In my book the wings and body should be parallel with the plane of focus, unlike here, where I am forced to focus on the eye and stop the lens down to get a bit of depth of field happening. The alternative is to get wet feet, and risk driving off my subject, and in wildlife photography that is a no-no. Still, I'm not shooting for text book illustrations, so I'm not too worried. At this time of year I am just pleased to be shooting anything.


300mm f/4 AF-S Nikkor with TC-14EII converter. 1/800 second at f/8. ISO 640. Monopod


© 2012

A year ago today...

It was a year ago today that Red 4, of the Royal Air Force Aerobatic Team - otherwise more popularly known simply as The Red Arrows - crashed into fields near the village of Throop, after returning to Bournemouth International Airport, having just displayed in front of an estimated crowd of 300,000 on the town's seafront. The pilot was killed. I had photographed the performance, and found it difficult to comprehend as the news of the disaster began to filter through the crowds. After all, these guys don't make mistakes, do they?

Although pilot error is not suspected at all, I am still having difficulty in finding any report of the MOD's findings into the incident, and therefore assume their investigations are still ongoing.

The site itself (right) has started to become overgrown as the summer grasses take a hold and nature heals the scar, but at the time of my visit several kind souls have visited the little stone cairn that marks the spot, and have left fresh-cut flowers and a message as a tribute.

Hand written, the message on the card reads:

One year ago today, on 20 Aug. 2011, you lost your life, and we remember you, every time we pass this monument.

A Throop resident

A permanent memorial to Flt Lt Jon Egging, designed by local school children, is due to be unveiled on Bournemouth's East Cliff to coincide with the opening of this years Air Festival at the end of the month.


12-24mm f/4G AF-S Nikkor. 1/250 second at f/8. - 0.67 EV compensation. ISO 200


© 2012

Next time...

After last week's experiment of shooting a firework display at a distance, I opt this week to get in somewhat closer for what might be considered a more sensible approach. Initially, I had ideas about being under the display, so to speak, shooting upwards. Why, I even entertained the idea of shooting with a fisheye lens (there was one in my bag tonight), but I eventually settle on an elevated position, 750 yards (686 metres) from my subject.

I wait in the heat of the summer night, while the mosquitos have a field day. If last week was anything to go by, I will have a few lumps here and there come morning. The hour comes; the display starts, but it is immediately obvious that I have the wrong lens for the job on the camera - a wide zoom. Even at its longest setting it is giving me woefully small images, so I and forced to make the change to rescue the shoot, and fit a standard zoom lens.

By the time I make this decision the display was probably half over, but having fumbled about in the dark (yes, I did have a torch with me, but it was effectively useless, as there was no way to hold it and mount the lens at the same time), and achieved framing and focus, the pyrotechnics were beginning to reach their peak. The best is always saved until last with such events. Even so, out the 28 frames I exposed I only came away with two useable images, one of which you see here, with Bournemouth Pier dwarfed beneath multiple bursts. I breath a sigh of relief: it could have been far worse. I'm already thinking about next week.


24-70mm f/2.8G Nikkor. Bulb exposure. f/5.6. ISO 400. Tripod and remote release. Mirror lockup.


© 2012

Back to normal...

The London 2012 Olympics has come and gone; the weather improved from unpredictable wind and rain to what most would consider summer conditions for the occasion, and then, as if cued-in by some unseen higher force, the real British summer returns and everything is back to normal.

In fact, it was a day of two halves (to borrow a cliché from football pundits), with all morning having rain before the sun appeared in all its glory for the rest of the day, from early afternoon onwards. Photographic conditions!

I'm back along the seafront of Poole Bay, Dorset, in the driving rain, looking for things to poke my lens at, and once again looking for detail in the sand. The rain can be challenging as it is difficult to keep the front element of the lens free from water droplets, but it is always worth the effort as there is something special about flat light. Of course, the same light can be had when it is not raining and only overcast, but the wet keeps the beaches largely empty, and I can work undisturbed.

85mm f/1.4D AF Nikkor. 1/100 second at f/4. + 0.33 EV compensation. ISO 640


© 2012

Experience and guesswork...

It has been a funny old week. At this time of year I usually find myself in the photographic doldrums: no real inspiration or motivation. In fact, I have been out shooting during the past two days and deleted everything. Instead, I find myself wanting for that glorious autumn light more and more. I do have one or two projects to shoot before all that happens: the annual Bournemouth Air Festival at the end of the month, for example, but otherwise my camera may just as well stay in the bag.

I do, however, have a moment of clarity through it all, as I consign this morning's early (and fruitless) set of images to the trash on my computer; and that is to photograph the fireworks display - held every Friday during August - on Bournemouth pier. I quickly dismiss the idea of rubbing shoulders with the multitudes that will gather near the event, and opt to work from a distance: a much greater distance.

A bit of an experiment, actually, as I want to use a super-telephoto lens for the job, and shoot over water, as it will have the added benefit of producing reflections for the foreground of the picture. This can have its drawbacks, especially with long exposures needed to capture several bursts on one frame. The slightest vibration will ruin the photograph. I'm lucky. There is very little wind - if any - on the cliff tops of Southbourne, where I set up, and visibility is excellent. I can see the white flash of the lighthouse at St. Catherine's Point on the southern tip of the Isle of Wight, some 24 miles away, so I know the 2.8 miles between me and my subject will cause no problems at all. The fireworks are launched at 10pm, and I start making exposures based on experience and guesswork. No other way to do it.


300mm f/2.8 AF-S VR Nikkor (VR off). 3½ seconds at f/8. ISO 200. Bulb exposure and remote release. Tripod


© 2012

Miles apart...

I am fascinated with super-telephoto lenses, not only for their pulling power of distant subjects, but for their pictorial effect alone. The myth is that they change the perspective of an image: the longer the lens the greater the change, but a myth it remains. Although the quality would suffer by the sheer enlargement, the scene above, if photographed with a wide angle lens and blown-up so the large white building were the same size as here, the perspective would remain the same.

The one thing such long lenses do is lend a claustrophobic feeling to a scene, piling plane upon plane and giving the impression that objects are closer (or even on top of each other), than they actually are; a technique used in the film industry to impart a feeling, perhaps, that a character is is closer to danger than in reality, much to the approval of both the actor/stunt man and their respective insurance companies.

The image, shot from Southbourne cliffs this morning, illustrates this well. The small red ice cream sign near the bottom right of the frame and the red and white building midway up the frame on the left may seem relatively close in the grand scheme of things, but in reality are just over two miles apart. The furthest feature from the camera is the balloon, tethered over Bournemouth gardens in the centre of town.


300mm f/2.8 AF-S VR Nikkor with TC-14EII converter. 1/2500 second at f/4. ISO 200. Monopod


© 2012

A respectful distance...

I've not done much photography over the past few days; what with the London Olympics on television and what-not, so today I make the effort for forsake watching the women's pair win a gold medal in the rowing event, and get on my bike, suitably equipped.

I've chosen a specific subject to shoot, and selected what might not necessarily be a nature photographer's first choice of lens for the job. I am after damselflies; any species will do, and I'm carrying a super-telephoto lens. Most shooters of this type of subject might consider reaching for a macro optic as a first choice, but I'm being clever, here. I do own a macro lens, but it is a woefully short focal length of 105mm - fine for static, inanimate themes, but not so conducive to getting frame-filling images of nervous insects - so something much longer was needed.

I have two 300mm Nikkors: one with a maximum aperture of f/2.8; the other a more modest f/4 - both professional lenses. I kept the latter when I bought its bigger brother because of its ability to focus down to around five feet or so. That, plus it is somewhat smaller and lighter, and also has stellar optics, even when used wide open. It enables me to keep a respectful distance from such subjects such as this Banded Demoiselle damselfly (Calopteryx splendens), photographed at Throop Mill on the Dorset Stour, this afternoon. It was the only one I saw, and although it got my full attention for several minutes, the long focal length ensured I didn't have to get so close as to stress the little chap (yes, it's a male).


300mm f/4 AF-S Nikkor. 1/160 second at f/8. ISO 400. Monopod


© 2012

Bridge on the River Stour...

Mad dogs and photographers go out in the mid-day sun... Not quite as Mr. Coward intended, but at this time of year, and at that time of day, I can expect little to photograph.

It's funny, but during the morning, an image I had shot some years ago of two men cleaning the build-up of weed on the concrete slopes of Throop Weir - up to their waists in their waterproof bib and braces; wielding scrapers on long poles - came to mind. For some bizarre reason (maybe it's the heat) I leave home just before noon and cycle back to the location, as if I expect them to be there once again, doing the same job.

Of course, they're not; the weir does not need cleaning at all, but I am surprised to find some sort of maintenance activity going on. Work has just started on the building of a temporary footbridge to divert walkers whilst the current bridge, which has stood on the site since 1972 when the river was diverted, is replaced. Work on this permanent structure, as well as the removal of the environmental control mechanism at the weir's middle, is scheduled to start next summer at a projected cost of £300,000.


24-70mm f/2.8G AF-S Nikkor. 1/1600 second at f/5.6. - 0.33 EV compensation. ISO 320


© 2012

Just not trying...

They were right (the weather people): the summer has come, and it is taking no prisoners. Today reached 26º C on the South coast (tomorrow is forecast to be hotter still), and that is more than enough for this particular outdoor photographer. I fear the worst as the humidity is set to rise later in the week. Oh dear!

It is gone 6pm before I venture out with my camera, and even then - stood in the sunshine on the cliff tops of Southbourne, Dorset - it is bordering on oppressive to me. I'm in search of the kestrel.

I get everything but: gulls aplenty, sparrows and crows -   I even watch swifts catching insects in the still air of the early evening - knowing I have no chance of photographing them without a huge slice of good fortune. I elect not to try on this occasion. Yes, fortune favours the brave, they say, but I'm not really in the mood. Kestrel or nothing!

I get nothing.

I struggle, photographically, at this time of year, and unless there is a particular event to shoot I'd sooner not bother, but with a bit of perseverance I do come up with something. The yacht, becalmed, it seems, is some distance from the shore, but it's the subtle hues of the sea and atmospheric haze on the horizon that catches my eye: the boat itself relegated to a small (but significant) focal point.  


300mm f/2.8 AF-S VR Nikkor with TC-14EII converter. 1/1250 second at f/5.6. + 0.33 EV compensation. ISO 320


© 2012

Summer...

Summer has arrived in the UK! Great rejoicing, you would think - and I am sure there are many that are - but for me, not so. Sure, I like it warm (not hot) but the light during the middle of the day when there are clear blue skies is all but unusable; brutal, in fact. I go for an afternoon beach ramble with my camera, but come home empty handed, image wise.

It's on days like this that the early morning/early evening sessions pay dividends, so I set of again (this time on my bike) to a specific location with my biggest lens, in the vague hope of  photographing the local kestrel that hunts along the cliff tops of Poole Bay, and specifically, Southbourne.

Of course, it doesn't show up. I shoot endless images of various types of gulls sailing past on the summer breeze, but my intended target makes no appearance. In between bouts of scouring the skies for the bird I occasionally point my lens elsewhere, and capture this couple strolling in the distance, enjoying the evening air on Boscombe beach.


300mm f/2.8 AF-S VR Nikkor with TC-14EII converter. 1/2500 second at f/5.6. - 0.33 EV compensation. ISO 400


© 2012

Wide eyed...

Next week not only sees the start of the London 2012 Olympics, but by all accounts, the start of summer. It's about time! Everywhere I look - be it on the internet; local or national television -  it promises rising temperatures and dry conditions, and I am beginning to believe it. Thinking about it, all the forecasters can't be wrong, can they? The fact is, I will miss the unsettled conditions, if only from a photographic standpoint.

For today's photo adventure I'm using a wide angle zoom lens, but after being used to the properties of telephoto and standard lenses it takes a bit of time to get my "wide eye" seeing again. It's true: your eye gets used to certain focal lengths if used continuously, and it takes a bit of time to allow for the brain to adjust to all that information coming in.

It didn't take very long, though, as today's image taken on Southbourne Cliffs, Bournemouth, shows. It's a showery afternoon, but there is a lot that can be said for heavy clouds and broken sunshine, as it produces the most wonderful light and gives the sea a green hue where it breaks through.

I chose my location carefully to allow the various tonal planes and textures to evenly contribute to the composition, or echo other elements, such as the white surf and the light sky on the horizon; or the sea and sky. I was also lucky that two figures wandered into shot at the right moment, which help to give the scene a sense of scale. All I had to do was to keep a watch and keep awaiting for the light to arrive.


12-24mm f/4G Nikkor. 1/1250 second at f/8. - 0.67 EV compensation. ISO 200


© 2012

Wall boxes and regnal numbers...

Today, I thought I would simply post a colourful photograph, but needed to shoot one first. Ooo, I love a challenge and I've had enough of all this grey and mono conversion treatment to my photography. Time to splash out a bit. Weather conditions were ideal: bright but overcast, since the imminent summer - at least that was the way it seemed to be suggested by the forecasters - was taking its own sweet time coming.

It comes to me during my search that street signs, and in particular, traffic signs, might make an interesting photo essay of an afternoon's ramble, but quickly forget all about that when I happen upon the scene here.

I've photographed this wall box before; given it the digital treatment and posted the result here on the blog. However, today there will be no such jiggery-pokery. The GR cipher on the front of the post box (presumable standing for George Rex) in script - with a small VI (the regnal number) - between the initials on the front dates it to the reign of King George VI (1936-52), but the traffic cone (much later), used by nearby workmen resurfacing a road - contrasts in both shape and hue and it clinches the deal.

Oh yes, the design on the cone designates a temporary restricted parking zone, but I have no idea as to the significance of the OXO graffiti.




24-70mm f/2.8G AF-S Nikkor. 1/200 second at f/5.5. - 0.33 EV compensation. ISO 400


© 2012

It's going nowhere...

The summer is threatening to get started in the UK - well, so the weathermen say - as the jet stream that has caused so much record rainfall over the past few weeks moves further north to where it should be at this time of year.

This is possibly born out by the fact that today the sun shines; the stiff winds have dropped and people are out making the most of it. In fact, I go out twice to shoot: morning, and then again during mid afternoon. I snap a few frames of nothingness on the first outing, but more or less draw a creative blank on the second. It had clouded over somewhat by then; still bright, but no interesting light. I spend a while chatting to a fellow photographer that I run into about this and that - shooting the breeze, so to speak (if you live in America), but decide to call it a day and make my way home. The last thing I expected to come across was the Olympic Torch.

Well, not the Olympic Torch (if indeed there is such a thing), but an Olympic Torch all the same, carried by one of the 8,000 runners along the 8,000 mile course to London itself. The owner was stood in his garden with it, proudly showing it off to a young lady, who, herself, seemed suitably impressed. At first I thought it might be simply a replica, but once I saw the London 2012 running gear I knew it was the real deal. I asked if I might take a few shots of him with the torch, and he readily agreed.

We discussed the notion that the Games were not that popular in the UK, and both concurred that this was incorrect, purely due to the large numbers of people that had turned out to welcome the runners - all selected because of their significant contribution to the community. He went on to tell me how the kids he works with have all embraced the Olympic Spirit, supported by the fact that they had all made their own model of the torch.

I won't mention the man's name, but I'm told he works tirelessly for charities (himself a veteran of 10 marathons over the past 6 years), raising thousands of pounds for such worthy causes as Julia's House; Help and Care and Positive Action (himself having lived with HIV for half his life). He also patiently explained to me how the 1kg torch was deactivated after his run in Bridport, Dorset, so as it could never be used again for its designed purpose. I jokingly asked him if he intended to put it on eBay: "It's going nowhere near eBay" he assured me, with a knowing smile. Good man.

Oh yes, he let me hold it for a few moments. Thank you, sir.


300mm f/4 AF-S Nikkor. 1/400 second at f/5.6. + 0.33 EV compensation. ISO 400


© 2012

The surfer remains...

I have the feeling that, come two weeks or so from now - just when it is needed the most - all this wind that seems to be relentless at the moment, will die away and leave the Olympic sailing events just along the coast with a flat calm. In fact, catching the end of the early evening television weather forecast for the coming week, I heard the chap mention that summer (if it ever materialises) - although not quite here yet - may be just around the corner.

Hope springs eternal.

In the meantime I make do with strong winds and the occasional shower. I spend part of the afternoon on Boscombe Pier, shooting anything that attracts my attention. I had made a number of photographs of a talented kitesurfer further along the beach earlier, but once again curse my lens choice. It always seems that when suitably equipped with telephoto lenses I don't get the subject content, and vice versa. Never mind.

There are the usual handful of surfers by the pier, but it is this shot of the running couple on the beach that I decide is the best frame of the session. Out of interest, I removed the surfer stood on the waterline in the middle distance, just to see the effect it would have during post processing, but the shot didn't work without the third figure. The fact that my main subjects are leaving the frame creates a tension in the image.


50mm f/1.8 AF Nikkor. 1/500 second at f/8. ISO 400


© 2012

The Olympic Torch comes to town (reprise)...

I am lucky enough to live in an area where the London 2012 Olympic Flame makes an overnight stay, so I am able to have a second bite of the cherry from a photographic perspective. This time the location is Boscombe.

Once again, the streets* are lined with thousands of people, cheering on each member of the relay - each running a mile with a torch - dispelling the myth that the British people are somewhat blasé about the Games of the XXX Olympiad. It is just not the case from what I have witnessed, with people of all ages - including parents carrying babies - taking the time and trouble to witness this once-in-a-lifetime-event. Although London is the only city to have hosted the modern Games three times, it is unlikely that those present this morning will ever see its like again.


Unlike yesterday, I have to be up and out relatively early for the shoot, but this time have no hesitation as to what lens I am going to use. Not only that but I won't have to contend with the large crowds to make my escape once it is all over.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                I briefly contemplate a 300mm f/2.8 lens for the job, but quickly decide that it will be too unwieldy in a crowd situation and opt for its smaller, slower counterpart. The busses carrying the Olympics promotion machine appear and roll by - music blasting - preceded by police on motorcycles who are also in the spirit of celebration - some even blowing on whistles, which adds to the carnival atmosphere. Funky, or what?

At 8.56am the runner appears: I take three considered photos before letting loose a burst of 15 frames (just to make sure), allowing my subject to run into the shot... and it is all over. Just a few seconds, but worth it all the same.


300mm f/4 AF-S Nikkor.

Top: 1/1600 second at f/4
Left: 1/640 second at f/4
ISO 400


* I use the word loosley: there is only one street in Bournemouth (Orchard Street - and it is tiny). Everything else bears the name; road, avenue, close, crescent etc..

© 2012

The Olympic Torch comes to town...

The 8 o'clock news on the radio this morning appeared to give the impression that a significant percentage of the UK - polled by someone or other - is less than interested in the forthcoming London 2012 Olympics. From what I witnessed tonight this is simply not true.

Day 56 of the torch relay, and the Olympic Flame travels through Dorset - the county that will host the sailing events in Weymouth and Portland - witnessed by tens of thousands of spectators that lined Bournemouth's roads this evening - and that is not including those attending the free concert held on the beach once the torch had arrived.

I had agonised for most of the afternoon over what choice of lens(es) to use for the shoot. I knew I wouldn't have much time as the torch bearer passed, and I felt two camera bodies with suitably different lenses would not be practical, so I pack my bag with the Holy Trinity (12-24mm;  24-70mm and a 70-200mm zooms to cover all bases) and elect to decide on which one once I get into position. I arrive about an hour early and immediately opt for a standard zoom. I then spend around 50 minutes checking and rechecking my settings and waiting for this once in a lifetime event... before checking it all over again as the crowds began to build; and then checking it again...

I finally convince myself that everything is as it should be, and to leave things alone; but moments before the torch procession arrives I change my mind (and lenses) and fit a telephoto zoom. A wise move, as it turns out, as no sooner does the runner appear than the crowds surge across the road to get closer. Had I used my original choice of lens I would have got very little (apart from enthusiastic bystanders), but my second guess optic saved the day as I was able to isolate my subject and get the shot.


70-200mm f/2.8D Apo Sigma lens. 1/640 second at f/4. + 0.33 EV compensation. ISO 500


© 2012

The job's a good'un...

It must surely be one of the easiest jobs going at the moment: weather forecaster in the UK. Just wave a hand arbitrarily at a map of the British Isles; say "rain here" and the job's a good'un. Okay, it's not their fault we are having the conditions we have, but I reckon they are not losing any sleep over the accuracy of their predictions at the moment.

Of course, this is all tongue-in-cheek, and the precipitation we are all becoming oh-so-used-to isn't going to stop me taking photographs. I do, on the rare occasion, contemplate shooting some still life images indoors, but that notion gets quickly dismissed as I would rather be outside. Someday, perhaps.

As it happens, I'm struggling to find anything remotely interesting to take pictures of. There is a limit to how many grey skies and deserted beaches I can photograph before it becomes monotonous to do, let alone look at, but that changes when I take shelter from the persistent rain on Boscombe Pier, Dorset. As I sit and peer into the gloom (I have the structure to myself), I espy the safety railings reflected in the wet decking and see light and shapes. Out comes my camera.


70-200mm f/2.8D Apo Sigma lens. 1/160 second at f/8. ISO 640


© 2012

Peak season...

Four days ago it was announced that the RNLI were braced as their peak season got underway. This is, of course, wonderful news for the "thousands of people" who are expected to use the beach over the coming season - except there are very few. At least for the moment. I walked for over a mile and counted three bathers actually in the water (all in the same spot), and around ten others cowering here and there from the windblown sand: the unpredictable summer continues.

It isn't until I arrive at Boscombe seafront that there is any sign of people enjoying the Blue Flag beaches; most notably school kids playing beach volleyball. Whether this is inspired by the looming Olympic Games - the sailing events are held in the county - or not is open to conjecture, and only the threat of a thunderstorm (photo), it seems, might possibly quell that ethos. We will never know: the kids pack up and leave and it doesn't rain.

The spirit of the games is beginning to make its presence felt locally, however, as the Olympic Torch itself is scheduled to pass through the area this coming Friday (the 13th) and Saturday, on day 57 of the 70 day journey around the UK - a once-in-a-lifetime event that I hope to photograph and include in these pages.


24-70mm f/2.8G AF-S Nikkor. 1/500 second at f/11. - 0.33 EV compensation. ISO 200


© 2012

Redcoat...

I've given up with weather forecasts: I will go out and shoot and adapt to whatever nature throws at me. It is a challenge, not knowing what I can expect, and it does produce images that are a bit more interesting. Besides, there is no end in sight of it all, so I might just as well get used to it.

This afternoon is shower-dodging time; something I do very successfully as they roll in from the West, and either pass just out to sea or slightly inland. Either way I get great light and stay dry - what more could I ask for?

I'm carrying a super-telephoto lens; an optic I particularly like using as it appears to compress perspective and make objects seem closer to each other than they actually are (the distance between the camera and the dark headland near the top left of the frame being 2.7 miles (4.3km), as with this seascape photograph, taken during one such shower at Southbourne, Bournemouth. A shadowy Isle of Wight lies in the distance, some 12 miles (19km) away.

There is but one man and his dog using the beach, highlighted against the sand by his red coat. Although an old photo tinting trick, I retain the colour of the coat having converted the scene to monochrome in Photoshop. Understated, but very effective if the subject allows.


300mm f/4D AF-S Nikkor. 1/2000 second at f/5.6. - 0.33 EV compensation. ISO 400

© 2012

Sunshine...

After the drabness of the past five days or so, and the resulting series of monochrome images, it is good to have a splash of colour back on these pages. Not only has it stopped raining but the sun has made a tentative appearance during the afternoon; but only for a short while.

I am lucky enough to be out with my camera during that period, and once again heading for the cliffs and beaches of Poole Bay, Dorset. I recently  resolved to make this location the subject of my lens for the rest of the year, although when called to shoot other occasions and events then that is what I shall do. But for general photography I feel the seafront; cliffs and all - and its ever changing scenery, light and inhabitants - is enough to keep me interested for the time being.

Take this Black-headed Gull, for example, hovering on the wind blowing across the cliff tops of Southbourne, eyeing up something on the ground that might prove to be a tasty snack; or at the very least worth investigating. A relatively easy shot, granted (these gulls are everywhere), but set against a backdrop of grass and summer flowers it makes a welcome change to all that grey.


70-200mm f/2.8D Apo Sigma lens. 1/3200 second at f/5.6. ISO 400

© 2012

Rain...

The Environment Agency estimate that parts of Dorset experienced a month's rain fall in the past 24 hours: easy to believe as it has not stopped raining since Thursday night - but that just won't stop me getting out for some moody rain photography - or surfers, er... surfing.

The beach I visit is entirely deserted as far as the eye can see (through the gloom) in either direction at Southbourne, Bournemouth, and the seven people that are visible are in the water, catching waves. No beginners here, it seems, and each man (I see no women) is quite a capable performer. Unfortunately, I am woefully inadequate, lens wise, to make a good job of the action. I know some aggressive cropping will be needed to produce anything useful, but the resulting graininess will add to the overall effect. I smile knowingly and start shooting.

The rain is also a constant problem in spite of the fact that my lens has a deep hood fitted: after every time I raise the camera to photograph I have to clean the lens of water droplets. I'm using a paper kitchen towel to do this as it is quick and effective - not a method I recommend for general lens cleaning, but since I have a Skylight 1A filter protecting the front element it concerns me not. This is the only time I use such protection on any of my lenses, but I would rather scratch a (comparatively) cheap filter than rub off the multi-coating on the lens itself, hence the coarse treatment.


24-70mm f/2.8G AF-S Nikkor. 1/500 second at f/8. + 0.33 EV compensation. ISO 640


© 2012
 

Memorable day...

Yesterday's blip in the summer weather: warm and sunny, soon passed by, and the rain was again steady for most of the day. Harking back to the beginning of the week, and stating that less-than-perfect beach weather wasn't going to stop me (or the angler) from enjoying ourselves, I was rather pleased to come across the scene pictured here.

Despite the rain (it was quite mild, temperature wise), there was this family finding a way for their small daughter - and themselves, most likely - to have a good time on the beach. It is good to see people not be deterred by unwanted weather conditions and find a way to make it fun, digging holes on the shoreline and making sandcastles. In fact, I would wager that today will be one of the more memorable days out, and will get talked about for some time to come. One thing was for certain, they had several miles of beach to themselves, as there was not even a dog walker present this afternoon. Just the occasional photographer.


24-70mm f/2.8G AF-S Nikkor. 1/1600 second at f/2.8. + 0.33 EV compensation. ISO 400


© 2012

He who has a golden armament...

It couldn't be much different, weather-wise, today: clear blue skies and light winds grace the southern counties of the UK - that, coupled with low afternoon tides - and I'm out scouring the surf line with a camera.

I find this leisurely approach very therapeutic as well as productive, as I have yet to fail in finding something of interest, exposed by the retreating waves. I get the usual stock images of seaweed and stones, but am surprised to find a jellyfish washed up on the shore.

I have never seen such a sight on the beaches of Poole Bay, Dorset, let alone be able to name the species, but a swift bit of research on the internet once at home identifies it as a Compass jellyfish (Chrysaora hysocella) - common, it seems, in British waters, and named after Chrysaor in Greek mythology. I didn't disturb it at all, let alone touch it (something you never do when photographing wildlife) which is just as well, I suppose, as the venom contained in its stinging cells can produce painful, long-lasting weals on humans. There, you have been advised. The animal is not dead; merely waiting for the tide to come back in so it can float off and do jellyfish-type things once again in the open sea.


24-70mm f/2.8D AF-S Nikkor. 1/640 second at f/8. + 0.33 EV compensation. ISO 400


© 2012

Time...

Tired of lying in the sunshine, staying home to watch the rain, goes the Pink Floyd song, which comes to mind as precipitation starts once again during this (so far) miserable summer in the UK. Although there is little chance of sunshine I can take advantage of the rain, and I get kitted-out with waterproof this and that and head out into it with a camera. There are photo opportunities to be had, unless I'm very much mistaken.

Seascapes are my favourite subjects for such conditions: dark, brooding skies, reflected in tone by the sea. I usually can't fail, but as I trudge into the wind and rain I see little to point my lens at until I come level with a man waving a metal detector (modern-day beach comber?) to-and-fro in front of himself at low tide, and I take several token shots, move on and think no more of it.

But then the steady rain stops and the sky brightens. I stop and look back in the direction I came and see the break in the threatening cloud has allowed the light to illuminate Hengistbury Head on the Dorset coast. Not direct sunlight, but enough to contrast the headland against the grey.


70-200mm f/2.8D Apo Sigma lens. 1/1600 second at f/5.6. ISO 500


© 2012

Gone fishin'...

According to the Met Office, it's the jet stream that crosses the Atlantic that is causing all the poor weather most of Europe is enduring at the moment. It should be much further north, they tell us. Well, it isn't, so we will have to grin and bear it: at least for the next week.

It doesn't bother me at all, nor this keen sea angler I stopped to have a chat to this afternoon, fishing off the beach at Southbourne, Bournemouth. Between casts we exchanged views on the environment, ecology and the fact that the wind and rain gave us both an essentially empty beach to enjoy our respective practices. I particularly liked the fact that anything he caught (he had a sea bass just before I arrived) was put back into the water to live another day. My kind of fisherman.


12-24mm f/4G AF Nikkor. 1/1000 second at f/5.6. ISO 400.


© 2012

The Christchurch Festival...

And now for something completely different. It's not often that I turn my lens in the direction of fellow musicians - just why that is, I'm not too sure - but today I visited the music area at the Christchurch Festival, Dorset, to photograph the Riverside Blues Band in action.

I had not given too much thought to the occasion, thinking that it would be a straightforward shoot in front of an open-air stage. I couldn't have been more wrong: it was inside a marquee. Now, this is a sensible move on behalf of the organisers, due to the vagaries of the British summer and outdoor events, but it wasn't helping me. From the outside it looked awful dark in there, and although I was equipped with several fast aperture lenses I had strong doubts about my success rate, frame wise. To aggravate matters, the stage end of the tent was covered in dark material, so as to give the stage lighting some effect during the daylight hours. I was going to need to use a higher ISO setting than I would like to - given the age of my camera - but I went into the dimness and took a number of test shots of the preceding band.

I needn't have worried. Yes, I was shooting almost wide open, but getting acceptable exposure readings. I began to feel a tad more confident from this point on. The band took the stage at 4pm for their 50 minute set and I started shooting from the off, checking and modifying camera settings depending on the lighting as I went. The band played a cracking set, and was joined onstage midway through their set by Callum; slated by Stan as the future of the local blues scene in the area (I hope that tattoo washes-off!).

He is only ten years old and is already gigging on a regular basis, and shows much promise. Although playing a supporting role today, he has no qualms about taking a lead vocal during his set at the local blues jams, organised so well by Stan and Helen (husband and wife team). Certainly a name to look out for in the future.

No doubt the fact that I had fast glass saved the day (I don't have a speedlight), and it did give me the opportunity to wheel-out my underused 85mm Nikkor - ideal under low light situations - but I was pushing the capabilities of the camera sensor. As I have mentioned elsewhere on this blog, it is an ancient model in digital terms (five years old), and newer models will leave it standing in that department, but once I get into the swing of things I find that I can drop those settings and reduce the digital noise levels to something manageable. Even so, I don't think the images used here would take any more enlargement comfortably.







Top: Stan - Guitar and vocals
Second row: (left) Syd - Drums (right) Helen - Bass guitar
Paul - Harmonica

Bottom right: Callum



Photos:

Top - 85mm f/1.4 Nikkor. 1/500 second at f/2. - 0.67 EV compensation. ISO 800

Second row - 85mm f/1.4 Nikkor. (left) 1/100 second at f/4. - 0.33 EV compensation. ISO 2000 (right) 1/320 second at f/2. - 0.33 EV compensation. ISO 800

Bottom - 24-70mm f/2.8G AF-S Nikkor. 1/200 second at f/4. - 0.33 EV compensation. ISO 2000


© 2012