Dustpan and Brush...

The last in the current trilogy of this weekend's sunset photographs (I hope: well it has to be since today is Sunday). I'm finding precious little to shoot at the moment, but with early signs of spring being just around the corner I'm content to make do with the easy subjects.

It had been a mostly clear day along the coast of Dorset, although a gusty wind took the edge of it, but as mid afternoon arrived wispy, high-altitude cloud rolled in. However, not enough of it to rob me of the light.

Low tide in Poole Bay was at 1600 hours, so I venture to the beach for dusk images, plus the hope that again I might be treated to an afterglow and something dramatic. Not so this time, although the sky had good detail once the sun had set (right).

In spite of low water I'm forced to keep an eye out for waves that continually roll up the beach and threaten to engulf my feet - past experience has conditioned me to this - whilst I try to capture wave patterns that in some way echo sky.

Oh, yes, the blog title: I did it for a dare! (don't ask).

12-24mm AF-S Nikkor. 1/400 second at f/5.6. ISO 640


© 2012

f/8 and be there...

f/8 and be there: the mantra of the press photographer - set the lens aperture to that value and let what's happening in front of you do the rest. Wise words, indeed, if you have a subject to photograph, but it's another drab day, light wise, and another late start before the weather gets interesting. With less than an hour to go before sunset I set out on my bike, chasing the light.

The cloud has broken sufficiently, and experience tells me that I may not only get a sunset to photograph, but also an afterglow - more photogenic in my book. This does not always happen once the sun dips below the horizon, but it's always worth waiting to see if it happens before packing up and leaving the scene.

Today it does. I select the widest lens in my bag, and keeping a wary eye on an incoming tide I go down on one knee to get a lower angle. I start making photographs as soon as the sun disappears from view and watch keenly as the strength of the colours on the clouds intensifies. I have to be vigilant and shoot at the peak as the colours are at their strongest for only a minute or so: after that they weaken and fade and the shoot is over.


12-24mm f/4 AF-S Nikkor. 1/100 second at f/8. + 0.33 EV compensation. ISO 800


© 2012

Deliberate flare...

Today almost didn't happen. After yesterday's shoot under heavily overcast skies I decided not to venture into the great outdoors as it was a similar kind of day: heavily overcast. The weather forecast hinted at brighter conditions as the day wore on, but I ignored it.

By mid day the light had not changed a bit. By mid afternoon it looked like it might rain. Then it did. But a quick perusal of the Met Office's satellite photo suggest clear conditions would shortly follow.

It was late in the day when I finally decided to risk it, and cycled down to the seafront at Boscombe, on Poole Bay to catch the last of the light. I arrive as it starts raining again, but not deterred I stand on the shore line and start taking photographs in the rain as the sun sets.

Keeping the front element of the lens dry is impossible in spite of a lens hood (use one at all times, folks), and after several attempts to remove the rain drops I give up and shoot away, allowing the droplets to produce flare in the image - an effect that contributes to the feel of the image.

24-70mm f/2.8 AF-S Nikkor. 1/30 second at f/8. + 0.33 EV compensation. ISO 400


© 2012

Frame within a frame...

The high pressure weather system that was briefly positioned over the UK has since drifted east across Europe, and the skies have become heavily overcast: time for some photography.

Initially, I spend some time shooting details in the sand exposed by a retreating tide in Poole Harbour before moving on to fisherman's dock, where I spend a good forty five minutes attempting to produce an image with a strategically placed gull to complete the composition. All to no avail. It's here that I have a brief discussion - and a different perspective - with another photographer that happens along. We nod to each other in acknowledgement of the cameras we are holding before I speak: "Great light, isn't it?" I say. Clearly mistaking my enthusiasm for sarcasm, he replies: "Terrible, isn't it?"

We are both looking for different things, and both equally valid.

I give up with the gulls and wander onto Poole Quay to see what catches my eye, and it's a window on the corner of Custom House, situated on the quay itself, and the warmth of the scene within that produces today's photograph. However, it's the weather-worn wooden frame that gets my scrutiny, and I select a medium-wide aperture to throw the interior out of focus, and use the wooden arch to produce a frame within a frame, allowing the reflections of the scene behind me to complete the picture.


50mm f/1.8D AF Nikkor. 1/250 second at f/4. - 0.33 EV compensation. ISO 640


© 2012

Crafty little trick...

Having edited and processed this morning's images I check out the weather forecast and realise that the current high pressure is not going to last, and rain is expected mid-week. So it's back on the bike during mid afternoon to make the most of what's on offer.

I cycle to Christchurch harbour, Dorset, with something specific in mind: photographing the local priory from the top of the headland that forms the southern shore - Hengistbury Head. I make a number of images as the sun dips down, but it's not coming together for my taste and I give up on the idea and cycle along the seafront towards Boscombe, keeping an eye out for anything of interest.

The sun has been set some twenty five minutes before I come across the scene here. There is a good afterglow in the cloudless sky, and the sea has turned blue due to the high colour temperature. I decide to photograph the effect. This is the tricky bit.

Most camera meters will try their best to give you an overall balanced exposure under such conditions, but the end result is often too light and unrealistic. This is not what I'm actually seeing. To regain the tones of the scene before me I use a crafty little trick: set the exposure compensation to -2 stops; in other words, force the camera to underexpose by two full f/stops below what it wants to give me. This will produce an exposure far closer to what is actually in front of my lens. Now, this works with Nikon camera bodies in Matrix metering mode. Whether it works in the same way with other makes is unknown to me, but it is something worth considering when faced with pre-dawn or dusk scenes.


300mm f/2.8 AF-S VR Nikkor (VR on) with TC-14EII converter. 1/60 second at f/4. -2 stops EV compensation. ISO 800. Monopod

A life form and its star...

High pressure over much of the UK during the past day or so has resulted in a few of those special winter's days of clear blue skies and cold, bright conditions: time I took advantage of some early light.

I'm up well before dawn, and a swift look outside reveals stars in the sky. It's clear. I decide upon a super telephoto lens to (hopefully) capture the sunrise over the sea, but until I arrive at my chosen location I'm never sure if I have the right choice of optic(s) slung over my shoulder - there can be a distant cloud bank that so often lurks low on the horizon, which not visible from where I live.

I arrive at Southbourne cliffs in the pre-dawn and immediately know I have chosen wisely. No cloud! I make my way down to the beach; set up my camera on a monopod...and wait. I have fifteen minutes or so before the sun is due over the horizon at 8.04, so I spend the time photographing the half moon and making test exposures. I'm trying to anticipate how much exposure compensation to give my basic meter reading, but dial in a plus value as a starting point as I am shooting into the light. I will make adjustments on the fly.

The sun's disc becomes visible at the expected time and I start making photographs. All well and good, but I always feel that scenes like this need a little something extra, and I've taken to habitually using gulls to achieve this. Always a hit or miss technique, but again an obliging bird sails into the frame before the sun becomes too bright and the shoot is over.

300mm f/2.8 AF-S Nikkor with TC-14EII converter. 1/1600 sec at f/5. + 0.33 EV compensation. ISO 400. Monopod.


© 2012

Friday 13th...

Well I ain't superstitious, sang Howlin' Wolf in 1961, and no black cat crossed my trail either, but for a moment the bad luck associated with the above day and date seemed to be playing a hand in the afternoon's proceedings. Having prepared my camera gear and dressed appropriately in thermal everything - maximum temperatures are expected to peak at 6ºC - my final check before leaving the house was the tyre pressures on my bike. It was at this point I thought things were beginning to work against me.

The dust cap on the rear wheel valve was somewhat recalcitrant as I tried to remove it for tyre inflation, but when it finally did yield it also took the valve itself with it as it came free. Nil desperandum: I simply replaced the tube with a fresh one and set off along the coast.

I make a number of stops for photographing whatever takes my fancy along the seafront of Poole Bay, Dorset, but it's the Twin Sails lifting bridge in Poole itself that really gets my interest, set against the winter sky. The bridge was slated to be opened this month, but from what I can glean that won't happen now until early March (the 9th was mentioned in conversation with a fellow snapper), but I'm lucky enough to be treated to a test closure shortly after I arrive (top).

Satisfied I had something of worth, I pack up and head home, but as I cycle along the edge of Parkstone bay it is evident there will be a sunset worth pointing a lens at, so I stop to make a number of exposures with a telephoto zoom lens as the sun dips below the distant hills of the Isle of Purbeck. The lone silhouette of a gull skimming the surface of the water makes the shot. Another successful image, the shooting location of which can be found below.

So, despite a slightly ominous start to today's outing things turned out rather well, dispelling the myth of the unlucky date. Of course, as they say in America: your mileage may vary.









Top: 24-70mm f/2.8 AF-S Nikkor. 1/80 second at f/9. - 0.33 EV compensation. Polariser. ISO 400
Below: 70-200mm f/2.8D EX Apo Sigma lens. 1/640 at f/9.  + 1.33EV compensation. ISO 200


© 2012

Reserved cormorants...

After the (somewhat) recent blustery weather the weekend starts calm and clear, and I make my first visit for some months to the Stour Valley Local Nature Reserve, Dorset. I ride the entire length of the reserve, keeping an eye out for anything interesting (there are otters afoot, they say), but apart from emerging willow catkins there is little to point my lens at.

The area is largely deserted, apart from the odd fisherman along the river bank - surprising since it's a Saturday and the weather is bright - but it's the more expert variety that eventually gets my attention at the North west corner of the reserve. I stop to photograph electricity pylons reflected in the water (left), and notice several cormorants perched high up and drying themselves in the winter sunshine.

I switch lenses for the longest optic in my bag (why do I always have the big stuff at home when need it the most?) and zoom in to capture the scene in greater detail.

I had noticed this particular perch almost a year ago when I first visited the nature reserve, but either the birds or the light was not present when I was, so this time I relatively lucky, super-telephoto lenses notwithstanding, and get some acceptable shots (right).

Although very much in the grip of winter - and much colder days are yet to come, I feel - there are some signs of spring; particularly at Throop, where daffodils are up but not as yet open.

Top: 24-70mm f/2.8 AF-S Nikkor. 1/100 second at f/11
Right: 70-200mm f/2.8D Apo Sigma lens. 1/800 second at f/5.6.
ISO 200


© 2012

Sodium vapour and moonlight...

It's way after dark before I decide to go out for a ride and a bit of photography, but having made the decision to travel as lightly as possible I decide against using a tripod and elect to shoot with available light.

I have six fast aperture lenses - the fastest being f/1.4, but on this occasion I dig out a little used lens that I bought some years ago when I still shot with film. For some reason or other this particular optic fell out of favour and it was high time it got some exercise.

I'm cycling along the seafront of Bournemouth, keeping an eye out for potential subjects, when my progress is eventually arrested by the buildup of wind-blown sand on the promenade: it's too deep to ride through. I push the bike for a hundred metres or so and take a number of photographs of a refreshment kiosk (long closed for the day: maybe the winter), but it's the scene behind me that produces a spark of creativity.

Light levels are very low, and despite the fact that I'm shooting with the lens wide open shutter speeds are appallingly low for hand held photography. The fact that I'm using a wide angle lens helps enormously to achieve a sharp image at such slow speeds, but I have to be careful with technique.  My only real option is to rack-up the ISO to get something manageable. Now, the camera I am using is ancient technology in digital terms (5 years old) and huge progress has been made since those days in digital sensor arrays, and no doubt modern cameras would leave mine standing with high ISO settings, but I have little choice. Digital noise will be a problem.

Contrast is through the roof, so I switch to manual and take a spot meter reading from the sand beneath the light, and add a further 1⅓ stop exposure to my settings to stop the beach recording as a mid grey. I let the lamp burn out in the image. I also decide to leave the ghosting created by the lens as it adds to the atmosphere. I do attempt to correct the colour balance from the orange glow of the sodium vapour lamps used to illuminate the beach front after dark, but because it is a discontinuous spectrum it is not possible for a full correction. I thought you would like to know that.


20mm f/1.8 D EX DG Sigma lens. 1/20 second at f/1.8. ISO 2500


© 2012

Shadow and sand...

Strong winds and rain have been a feature of the UK's South West over the past few days, causing damage to nature and property, but today there was a break in the cloud, leaving blue skies to shoot under. However, the winds remained, gusting up to 45mph (72kmh) along the coast.

Under such conditions I nearly always opt to visit the seaside for photography, but despite the wind there is no sea running, so no chance of dramatic images. Instead, I concentrate on wind-blown sand patterns and shadows as here on the seafront at Southbourne in Poole bay.

Travelling light with only one lens - as I was today - is always going to be a compromise: the photographer can rest assured that in the case of toting a single optic such as a wide angle lens then a telephoto would be more suitable, and vice versa. This time I had chosen a wide angle zoom lens for flexibility, but my eye was seeing detail that ideally required a 50mm lens (or short telephoto) to capture the effect I was after. As a result I have to adjust my eye and look for the bigger composition, however mundane. Fortunately the ripples in the sand and shadows thrown across it help make the foreground interesting.


12-24mm AF-S F/4 Nikkor. 1/200 second at f/11. - 0.33 EV compensation. ISO 200

© 2012

Obliging gull...

The first decent light of the new year and I'm out on my bike for some photography. In fact it's a crisp winter's day with a stiff breeze, and conditions are ideal for water sports, so I head for Poole Harbour to see if there is any action. There is, of course, plenty to photograph, but I have numerous shots of kite and wind surfers and today I'm just not inspired.

The sky had remained a cloudless blue for most of the day, but during mid afternoon clouds roll in from the Southwest and the sky suddenly becomes more interesting than those rubber-clad figures scooting along in the middle distance. I change lenses and start photographing the cloud formations. Interesting as they are, ideally need something as a focal point. I keep making exposures until a gull obligingly flies into position to complete the composition. At that point I know I've got the shot I'm after.

The shower clouds disappear almost as quickly as they arrived, but by that time the light - and the water sports enthusiasts - have gone; closely followed by me.


24-70mm f/2.8G AF-S Nikkor. 1/800 second at f/8. + 0.33 EV compensation. ISO 400


© 2012

Night lights...

Basing today's plans on yesterday's weather forecast turned out to be a mistake (so what's new?) and I postpone my trip for some photography on the Isle of Purbeck, Dorset. However, not being deterred by the Met Office's unspecified grey cloud that blankets the area, I get on my bike, camera over my shoulder, and ride the seafront of Poole bay in search of alternative subjects.

I make a number of attempts at photographing ducks and geese in Poole Park, shooting by holding the camera at ground level and essentially shooting blind. Always a hit or miss technique, and on this occasion the latter prevails and I get nothing of any value: only out of focus images of very poorly framed birds.

It's on my way home that I arrive at the approach to Bournemouth pier, and initially attracted to the fairground lights reflected in the old Waterfront building, but finally opt for photographing one of the rides in operation. There is still enough light to give the sky some detail, but it is essentially a hand-held night shot. Because of this I am forced to shoot with the lens wide open and a higher ISO than I would have liked, but timing the swing of the ride and shooting when it is at its highest helps to keep things sharp.

24-70mm f/2.8G AF-S Nikkor. 1/125 second at f/2.8. - 0.67 EV compensation. ISO 1600


© 2011

Can you see a difference?

Whilst out shooting yesterday afternoon, I had the presence of mind to take a couple of comparison shots of a scene I was working on with my mobile phone camera. I've never done this before, but wanted to know how the results would compare to that of professional camera equipment.

Now, I wouldn't be surprised if my phone camera had all sorts of exposure and zoom capabilities built in, but since I don't intend to use it in any serious capacity I've not bothered to find out what these are (if any). In this respect it is not a fair comparison as the focal lengths are not the same (nor the resolutions in the way of a pixel count) - and heaven knows what the focal length of the tiny piece of glass(?) and sensor dimensions are - but I just wanted to find out what sort of quality I could expect.

I gave the original file a tweak in Adobe Photoshop before resizing it to be used here, and although the native file would only print at 8.5 x 6.5 inches (21.6 x 16.5 cm) compared to the 18 x 12 inch (45.7 x 30.5 cm) RAW file of my Nikon body, I find the phone to be a useful tool as a photographic notebook.

I have no doubt the phone camera images print well in the sizes it is intended for, and reproduces well enough on a web site such as this, but since I carry it with me everywhere I go it may well prove it's worth one day. After all: an image is better than no image.

(no metadata available)


© 2011

Here come ol' flat top...

It's way past noon and I'm still indoors, having a chat with my best friend about photography and the possibilities of what to photograph. The agreed theme for the afternoon's shoot eventually becomes "take a photo of nothing". Almost as soon as it is agreed I have at least one idea enter my head as to what that might be. The final outcome is anything but.

The exercise is to have a walking meditation with a camera over my shoulder, although I bend the rules a bit (well, quite a bit, actually) and take my bike instead. I did stick to the other part of the deal, however, and took just a single prime lens for the afternoon's shoot.

I start in a local park, photographing pine cones and fallen leaves on the grass, but soon find myself on the cliff top of Poole Bay, Dorset, and become fascinated with a distant storm cloud, seen here apparently positioned over the Isle of Wight on the horizon. The warm air rising in the cloud eventually creates the characteristic flat top, which can be estimated at around 36,000 feet  (7 miles/11km), as it reaches the tropopause, between the stratosphere and the colder air of the troposphere. There, I said it.


50mm f/1.8 AF Nikkor. 1/125 second at f/11. - 0.67 EV compensation. ISO 200


© 2011

Blue skies and sooty-grey...

After last night's strong winds and heavy rain the day breaks clear and calm, and I have the idea to visit a location that I've not been to for over a year for some waterfowl photography. My camera bag is already loaded with a super-telephoto lens and body, so it's just a case of dressing appropriately (thermal everything) and get into the car and drive.

As I head to Eyeworth Pond in the New Forest it occurs to me that this is probably the first time I've driven anywhere since October, as I mainly use a bicycle to get to the nearer destinations, these days. It starts to rain on the way, but it's only showers and I remain confident of getting something useful.

Upon arrival I find I have the place to myself, but as I start to set up my gear I discover that in my haste to leave home I've forgotten an important part of my photographic kit: the quick release plate for the ball and socket head on my monopod. It normally remains permanently attached to the foot of my 300mm lens, but I removed it in favour of the geared tripod head when shooting the moon last week, and never replaced it. Of course it won't mount and I have no option but to hand hold the camera. This is only a problem during extended shoots due to the weight, but the light is good and the sky is blue, so I just stand and wait.

There is the usual selection of ducks and drakes on the pond, as well as a cormorant, much to my surprise, but it's the coots, with their red eyes and distinctive white shield that get my attention on this visit. Although they appear black at first glance their plumage is in fact a sooty-grey, that can be seen in the photograph. The water ripples catch the sunlight and add some fill-in light to the feathers, highlighting their true colour.


300mm f/2.8 AF-S VR Nikkor with TC-14EII converter. 1/1250 second at f/4.5. - 0.33 EV compensation. ISO 500


© 2011

Full, but not eclipsed...

As mentioned in yesterday's post, tonight it is full moon. Not only that, but there is a total eclipse of the Moon, although unless you live in the Shetland Islands in the UK it would not have been visible as such.

As it is, I'm thwarted by cloud cover by early evening from a photographic standpoint, and I resign myself to getting no shots of even a partially eclipsed disc in the sky.

I'm chatting with a friend on Skype in the late afternoon and making regular checks of the sky in the hope that something may appear. It's during one such visit outdoors that I see the cloud has broken sufficiently to get something on camera, so I hastily set up on a tripod and start making exposures.

Unlike yesterday, when I was able to expose solely for the Moon's disc, this time I have to compromise detail if I want to record the amazing cloud formation that contributes so much to the image. It's just not possible to record both within the latitude of a digital sensor or film. Something had to go.

300mm f/2.8 AF-S VR Nikkor with TC-14EII converter. 1/80 second at f/5. ISO 400. Tripod and remote release. Mirror lockup. Time: 17.26


© 2011

I see the Moon...

Over the past month or so I've freely given out information on Facebook and via Skype, to those that have asked, of how to photograph the Moon. I start with all the usual advice of: use a tripod, a remote release (or the camera's self timer) and to focus and expose manually, but it occurred to me, as I stepped out of the house and spied Earth's satellite: damn it, man, can you actually do it yourself?

It's been some time since I've made any serious attempt so I thought it was about time I brushed up on the technique. Now, the moon is brighter than most people think, especially now that it is nearly full (that occurs tomorrow) so pretty fast shutter speeds can be employed to help capture sharp images under high magnifications.

One other invaluable tip I can offer is to use the mirror lockup feature if your camera has one (we are generally talking SLR bodies, here). Once that is up and out of the way a few moments can be allowed for all vibrations to die down before the shutter is fired. Despite advanced damping engineered into modern camera bodies, the mirror is still capable of taking the edge off images such as these as it clatters up before the shutter blinds open. Some camera bodies also cause the mirror to be locked up when the self timer is activated, but I prefer to judge the exact moment of exposure myself.


300mm f/2.8 AF-S VR Nikkor with TC-14EII converter. 1/800 second at f/6.3. ISO 320. Tripod and remote release. Mirror locked up. Time: 16.46 GMT


© 2011

Cloud shadows...

At one time I would have set the alarm clock for early starts, but these days I appear to leave it purely to chance that I will wake up before dawn to go out for some early morning shooting. Mind you, there haven't been too may good opportunities for good light of late, so I don't feel I have missed anything.

This morning it is cold. Cold enough to wear thermal underwear, but I don't. I'm only intending to stay until the sun breaks the horizon, but a distant cloud bank scuppers that idea. Even so, I needed those thermals.

I spend around 50 minutes shooting aircraft contrails, dog walkers and passing birds as the light becomes more and more interesting. The sun rose at 7.56am, but it's some 30 minutes later before I shoot the image of shadows cast upon the sky by the clouds.

I do wish I had worn those thermals.

70-200mmf/2.8 Apo Sigma lens. 1/5000 second at f/5.6. ISO 640


© 2011

Silver sea...

The weather forecast for today was way off. Overcast with some rain was predicted, but by early morning the clouds had rolled away and blue skies prevailed.

It was mid afternoon before I ventured out with a camera, and once again I chose the seaside for my shooting location. I could have (and did) make all the usual shots of walkers on the surf line, or cloud formations, but just before the sun dipped down behind a cloud bank to the West, I took a series of photographs which I knew I would convert to black and white as I fired the shutter. Pointing the lens into the light produced a high contrast mono image. Just the way I like 'em.

70-200mm f/2.8 Apo Sigma lens. 1/800 second at f/8. + 1 stop EV compensation. ISO 400


© 2011

December dawn...

A pre-dawn inspection of the sky from my bedroom window confirms yesterday's weather forecast: it's clear. It takes me just a few moments to pack my camera bag with two lenses, have breakfast and cycle to the beach at Southbourne, Bournemouth, and photograph the sunrise.

Conditions are near perfect and couldn't be more different to the corresponding day last year at the same location. The sun rises at 7.47am and I start making photographs. I'm lucky this morning as the cloud bank near the horizon allows me to shoot the sun as it appears over the sea, then shortly after gives me a sunburst from behind the cloud while it is still low in the sky.


70-200mm f/2.8 Apo Sigma lens. 1/200 second at f/11. + 0.33 EV compensation. ISO 400

© 2011