The gloves are back on...

For the next day or so Dorset (at least) will be plunged back into winter with yet another cold snap, but all should be back to normal by Tuesday - at least that's what they tell me. Mind you, the Met Office was bang-on with its weather prediction for where I live, yesterday, so who am I to argue?

They also have it right for today: clear sky and a widespread frost. I'm going to need the gloves again. I decide to keep the dawn shoot fairly local, purely because of the sub-zero temperatures, and the fact that earlier starts are becoming a necessity. These days I can tolerate one or the other, but not both for any length of time. Sunrise today is 7.13am.

At the predicted time the sun pops up over the Isle of Wight - some nine miles distant (image) - and I make a number of photographs to record the event. Unfortunately, there is no cloud in the sky whatsoever, so I crop the final image to a square shape to compensate for the lack of interest in that department.


300mm f/4 AF-S Nikkor. 1/800 second at f/10. + 0.33 EV compensation. ISO 400. Monopod.


© 2012

The nifty fifty...

Today I'm travelling light. Two lenses: a 50mm and a fisheye - both prime lenses - both small and fast.

However, I'm prowling the seafront of Poole bay with little in mind to shoot (not always the best approach), and with that mindset I am seeing very little. I take a series of photographs with the same theme as yesterday: weathering and decay, but to be brutally honest, I have a boat load of similar images taken over the years that will never see the light of day. In short, I'm bored

During times like these, if nature is not going to do it, it's up to me to inspire myself. I try to do this by using the fisheye lens on Boscombe pier, hoping to get something graphic and interesting, but with dull skies and flat light it is just not coming together.

The pier is about to close, and I call it a day, but as I am leaving I pass a family hurling chips (French fries) to a flock of black headed gulls. I quickly switch back to the 50mm lens and fire the shutter each time the viewfinder fills with a sufficient number of gulls (all guesswork).

But almost as soon as it starts, it's all over. The food runs out and the gulls fly off. This above image is the last shot of the day.


50mm f/1.8 AF Nikkor. 1/400 second at f/5.6. + 0.33 EV compensation. ISO 400

© 2012

Deteriorated and cracked...

For the second day running I don't need gloves when out shooting, as the mild weather continues. Whether it stays like this for long is neither here nor there: spring is not far off. Today, I see the first showings of crocuses and, bizarrely, a dead wasp - insect activity is apparent on days like this. On top of that the Bournemouth Eye (a tethered balloon) is flying above the local gardens. Things are looking up.

However, the skies are overcast, so I decide to spend some time getting re-aquainted with a favourite lens. It's the fastest lens I own in the aperture department (and amazingly sharp). I initially intended to shoot with the lens wide open, so as to blur backgrounds for pictorial effect, but as there are no suitable subjects forthcoming I opt to shoot detail in the landscape.

Today's photograph is a closeup of the side of a refreshment kiosk on the seafront, showing how the paintwork and advertising have deteriorated and cracked, having been subjected for years to a harsh environment of sea air and wind-blown sand.


85mm f/1.4D AF Nikkor. 1/500 second at f/5.6. - 0.33 EV compensation. ISO 400

© 2012

Optimists...

Spring is definitely in the air: the weather proves it. For the rest of the week (at least) I am due mild weather, albeit with rain by the weekend - but at least it's not cold - and daylight hours are increasing noticeably.

After attending to some late morning business I spend the afternoon strolling along the seafront of Poole bay with a camera, enjoying the light and the calm conditions - photographing this and that and nothing in particular.

In fact, I have several hard drives already bursting at the seams with images I am getting, and I'm beginning to ask myself just why I'm spending my time shooting where I am when nature is beginning to awake elsewhere... and I'm not there to capture it. But it is as I approach Boscombe pier that I catch sight of two sporting optimists - the wind surfer and the fisherman (he's there: just look for him, but why he is on the pier 42 minutes after closing time is a mystery).

All things equal, the fisherman stands a chance of catching something, but the lone water sports enthusiast has little chance as there is no wind. Instead he slowly drifts to and fro while I photograph his progress. Granted, it is easier to shoot such a sport at such a slow pace, but it doesn't produce very dynamic images.

He looks nice against the sunset, though.


24-70mm f/2.8 AF-S Nikkor. 1/200 second at f/11. + 0.33 EV compensation. ISO 400


© 2012

Slow down, and be considerate...

Thank goodness all that cold weather has gone - at least for the time being - as it makes dawn shoots much more tolerable. In contrast to temperatures of the past two weeks or so, it's a rather heady 4ºC as I set out in the semi-darkness, heading for the beach.

I'm still able to photograph a sunrise over water at this time of year, but ten days from now there will be no point on Poole bay, Dorset, that I will be able to do so until the autumn (18th October, to be precise), as the event will be obscured by the Isle of Wight. Spring marches on.

I didn't bother to check relevant tables before leaving the house (it was not important for what I had in mind) but the unexpected bonanza of an ebbing tide and a flat calm upon my arrival at the seaside was most welcome. I've recently taken to shooting from a monopod again with all lenses, as it allows me to use small apertures for greater depth of field without bumping the ISO too high in low light situations. Apart from the quality aspect, it tends to slow me down and produce a more considered approach to composition.


24-70mm f/2.8 AF-S Nikkor. 1/60 second at f/8. ISO 400.


© 2012

No such thing...

For the last time this week I walk the same stretch of coastline along Poole bay, Dorset. Five consecutive days in the same area: each day something different.

Of course, I'm not out to replicate the images I shot the previous day, but then I couldn't if I tried. As I hinted in my previous post, even at the same location with the same light, there will always be something to set it aside from what came before.

Today's photograph was taken within a few feet of where I shot yesterday's picture, and almost at the same time of day, yet the difference is striking. Apart from the cloud formation - and the fact that yesterday's photo was converted to monochrome - the sand patterns are more defined, producing pools of water that reflect the sky. Proof, if proof were needed, that there is no such thing as the definitive photograph of a subject.

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

© 2012

How many more times...

I've decided to make it a theme for the week: photographs taken during casual strolls along the shore at low tide, Poole bay. For the fourth consecutive day I take my own sweet time walking several miles along the sand, making images of what I find interesting below the surf line.

I have sometimes been asked what is the point of returning to the same location for more photography; surely I have more than enough pictures of such and such? Well, the simple answer is: no. No matter how many times I retrace my steps I always come across something different to shoot that I missed the previous time, or simply because the light is different - never better - just different.

Today is no exception, and I shoot nearly one hundred frames, on this occasion concentrating on the play of winter light on the wet sand of Boscombe beach, Dorset (photo). Despite the desolate feel the mono conversion produces, spring is just around the corner, and daylight hours are increasing noticeably. These days my favourite time of year.


12-24mm f/4G Nikkor. 1/250 second at f/11. + 0.33 EV compensation. ISO 320


© 2012

Ramble on...

The second cold snap of the month has arrived, although temperatures are higher than forecast yesterday (- 5ºC) with a "balmy" - 1ºC on the thermometer. This second figure is almost certainly due to the blanket of cloud across the county and beyond,

Becoming accustomed to taking a relaxed attitude to my photography I make another ramble on foot along the beach at low tide, shooting whatever takes my fancy. Light levels are low, so I concentrate on details in the landscape, as here, with the wood grain pattern on a groyne post. Years of constant exposure to a harsh environment has caused the greenheart to split and discolour, and together with the sand makes for an interesting study in hue and texture.


50mm f/1.8D AF Nikkor. 1/60 second at f/8. - 0.67 EV compensation. ISO 320. Monopod

© 2012

Nic's stone...

Another mild day along the Dorset coast, but this is about to change overnight, with temperatures forecast to drop to -5 ºC tomorrow. So, once again, I opt to walk in search of photographs while the conditions are still favourable, and again choose the beach.

I'm better equipped than I was yesterday - not only lens wise - but I also have a monopod to steady the camera. I normally use such an item with super-telephoto lenses, but I noticed a significant proportion of images from yesterday suffering from a hint of camera shake when shutter speeds dipped below 1/80th of a second. I need all the support I can get.

It's approaching late afternoon as I arrive on the seafront, and the tide is well on its way to being at its lowest. I start taking shots of light reflected in the exposed wet sand, but I'm also doing something else. I'm keeping an eye out for interesting stones - especially ones that have holes all the way through - for my best friend Nic: also a fellow photographer (as well as a collector and maker of things beautiful and interesting).

I had only just received a text message from her when I turn and find just what I'm looking for (photo), recently exposed by the retreating surf. Before I pick it up I photograph the stone in situ (and yes, one of those holes goes from one side to the other). Keen observers will notice my reflection in the larger bubbles as I crouch low to take the photo.


50mm f/1.8D AF Nikkor. 1/50 second at f/6.3. - 0.33 EV compensation. ISO 200


© 2012

Bolts, limpets and barnacles...

Today, I'm on foot. It's been quite a while since I've set out to take photos without some form of transport, but I decided I wanted a more relaxed approach to photography for the day. Even the comparative freedom afforded by a bike can sometimes curb a spontaneous approach; often missing potential subjects as I ride on my merry way.

The weather has broken here, and freezing conditions make way for overcast skies, little wind and relatively mild temperatures: ideal for an amble along the surf line of a local beach. As the tide retreats I'm constantly on the search for objects exposed by, or affected by, the retreating waves. I shoot numerous photos of shells and isolated stones on the smooth wet sand, but it's details on the wooden groynes that produce today's image, with this small gathering of limpets and barnacles, clustered around a bolt holding the greenheart timbers together. Interestingly, a few of the limpets have barnacles!


50mm f/1.8D Nikkor. 1/60 second at f/8. + 0.67 EV compensation. ISO 400


© 2012

Just as capable...

It's not very often that I post an image that was not shot on the date of the post itself, but today I feel the need to redress the neglect that Christchurch harbour has suffered in comparison to its nearby neighbour, Poole.

I have read a number of local articles (as well as web searches that have let to this blog) about how the sea at Poole - and in particular the North Haven area, near Sandbanks - has frozen during the current cold snap. Indeed, Poole, with its continued growing economy and development is the more glamourised of the two, but I'm here to give Christchurch a fair crack of the whip and show it is capable of freezing just as much.

The photograph, taken yesterday, shows the extent that the sea has frozen at Mudeford Spit, which runs along the Eastern side, with the much prized beach huts arranged in orderly fashion along the edge. There is great competition to rent one of these huts for the summer season, and the (rare) opportunity to buy one will currently dent your wallet to the tune of £145,000.


24-70mm f/2.8 AF-S Nikkor. 1/160 at f/11. + 0.67 EV compensation. ISO 200


© 2012

End to end...

Another crisp winter's day on Dorset's coast, and if anything, colder than yesterday. This is borne out by looking at the Met Office's weather chart (minus 1ºC, they claim), and the fact that there is a greater portion of frozen harbour than yesterday when I return to Christchurch during early afternoon.

Although colder than yesterday, there is little or no wind, so it feels much more comfortable to be out with a camera in the depths of winter. I shoot a number of frozen waters-edge images before moving on to the animal life - of which there is very little, today - and the boats, of which the same can be said. The light, however, is very appealing.

I decide to call time and begin to make my way home, but instead, like a dog I read about, kept going, along the seafront until I reached the entrance to Poole harbour at the other end of Poole Bay. I arrive just in time to witness the Brittany Ferries' Cotentin leaving port, seen here shortly after it had left the harbour. Not a particularly momentous event - it does this every day - but again I'm attracted to the light, and the contrasting size and design of the vessels in the image.


Top: 24-70mm f/2.8 AF-S Nikkor. 1/160 second at f/8. - 0.67 EV compensation. ISO 200. Polariser
Below: 300mm f/4 AF-S Nikkor. 1/500 second at f/6.3. - 0.33 EV compensation. ISO 400


© 2012

Ice and sand ripples...

Not content with this morning's cold start I venture out again in the afternoon as temperatures soar to 1º C and head for the southern shore of Christchurch harbour. Upon arrival I'm mildly surprised to find that the water's edge has frozen (left). This, no doubt, is due to the fact that two rivers empty into the harbour: the Avon and the Stour, contributing to the low salt content despite the fact that it is tidal. Christchurch Priory can be seen perched on the horizon.

Following this I wander on to nearby
Mudeford Spit (pronounced Muddy-ford) to photograph the
windswept beach. I'm looking for shape and texture here, and I find it in abundance. One advantage of such a cold day, despite all the sunshine, is the fact that the area is deserted, and the wind-formed patterns have not been disturbed by others. The low afternoon light throws the ripples into relief, and I have already decided to produce monochrome images from the results.

Both images: 24-70mm f/2.8 AF-S Nikkor

Top: 1/500 second at f/11. ISO 400

Right: 1/2650 second at f/11. + 0.33 EV compensation. ISO 400

© 2012

Winter dawns, frozen derailleurs and the beginning of the end...

The cold snap continues over much of the UK, and I'm up well before dawn to inspect the sky. The Met Office and I concur: it's clear. I set off into the approaching dawn and an Easterly wind - eyes watering from the cold - and head to the beach.

I arrive in good time and pull my camera out of its bag. I'm immediately greeted with a low battery warning in the viewfinder: low temperatures take their significant toll on such items, but I should be okay as my reserve battery still reads 69%. After all, I won't be hanging around once I've got what I'm after. Low temperatures are beginning to take a toll on me, too.

On Southbourne beach, Poole Bay, the sun makes its appearance at 7.45am and I start making photographs. Although low tide is not for several hours I've managed to find a tidal pool on the sea shore that I can use as foreground interest (an old architectural design trick - it instills a calmness), and I click away for seven minutes until the sun has climbed above the cloud and the effect has gone. Shoot over.

In that short duration I've noticed the cold for the first time, despite wearing numerous layers of thermal clothing. It started me thinking: this may well be the last winter I shoot at this time of the day. This thought is compounded by the fact that both derailleurs on my bike have frozen, and I'm restricted as to what gears I can use. This, no doubt, it due to the fact that I hosed-down the bike yesterday to remove two days of accumulated mud from riding across nature reserves, and the fact that water still remained in the linkages.

So, for the first time I'm considering being more selective with shooting at certain times of the year. That, plus the fact that lugging heavy glass around is beginning to take its toll. Time to think about selling up and finding something lighter.


24-70mm f/2.8 AF-S Nikkor. 1/160 second at f/11. + 0.67 EV compensation. ISO 400


© 2012

Ducks on thin ice...

A total contrast to yesterday's weather: today we had blue sky, dry conditions and a stiff Easterly wind that gusted up to 30mph (48kmh), so it felt colder than it actually was.

But cold it was, anyway, with temperatures sufficiently low to freeze the surface of a local duck pond - not solid - but enough in places to require a Ferruginous Duck - and, indeed, other species - to scramble up onto the ice to allow it to get from one thawed-out spot to another in search of food. As graceful as ducks are on water, they are somewhat ungainly on land, and in particular, ice. Getting a grip, as it were, is not possible, so they slid from A to B on their bellies (photo).

I photographed waterfowl at this location last March, and as far as I can tell it is the same bird. Now, my reference book of British birds and waterfowl maintains that the featured species of duck is a rare visitor to the UK, with as few as 30 sightings a year recorded. Maybe this particular chap came to visit and decided to stay. Anyway it's in Throop, Dorset, if you want to have a look for yourself.


300mm f/2.8 AF-S VR Nikkor with TC-14EII converter. 1/1250 second at f/5.6. + 0.67 EV compensation. ISO 400. Monopod


© 2012

A winter's day and burnished bark...

By the time I get out of the house for some photography it has become a typical British winter's day: overcast, damp and cold. Temperatures hover at around freezing - evident as broken ice on puddles after recent rain remains frozen, and in some cases has frozen over a second time.

Despite this there is a stark indication that spring has been trying to happen - at least before the current cold snap - in the form of blooming daffodils at Throop, Dorset (right). I first mentioned this in my 7th January post, where the shoots were up but not in flower. I had intended to return earlier to photograph the openings, but what with one thing and another I never managed it until today. A remarkable occurrence for January, to say the least.

Having got my shot by sprawling on the ground (protected by a strategically positioned bin liner - I think of most eventualities), I move on to Stour Valley Local Nature Reserve via the Muscliff Arboretum, and my attention is immediately drawn to a fine example of a Tibetan Cherry tree (Prunus serrula). I have passed this tree numerous times, and why I have not noticed its distinctive bark before is beyond me. I ask a passer by if they can identify the tree, and I'm reliably told it is an acer, but according to the arboretum species listing it is, in fact, a cherry. I will be returning to this particular specimen, with its burnished bark, in the coming months.


Both images: 90mm f/2.8D EX Sigma macro lens.

Top: 1/320 second at f/5.6. - 0.33 EV compensation. ISO 400
Below: 1/320 second at f/6.3. + 0.33 EV compensation. ISO 500


© 2012

A bit of a gambol...

Winter has arrived, it seems, at least along the coast of Dorset. This is validated by low temperatures, an Easterly wind... and snow. Yes, something of a rare occurrence in the area, but at 9.37 this morning I witnessed falling flakes.  Albeit very slight, it would still be enough to make bookmakers acknowledge a white Christmas (had it, in fact, happened on that day - i.e., a payout). So, in a nutshell: today it snowed.

By early afternoon the thick grey cloud had thinned sufficiently to allow a bit of sun through, so I selected an unlikely lens pairing - an 85mm f/1.4  portrait lens, and a full frame fisheye - and get out on my bike to shoot seascape images.

I'm busy photographing waves breaking on the beach at Southbourne when a small short-haired, er... dog, gambols through the waves as they roll along the shore, barking at everything and nothing and clearly having a grand time of it all. By the time I fire the shutter I have already decided to convert the image to monochrome.


10.5mm f/2.8 fisheye Nikkor. 1/500 second at f/8. ISO 400


© 2012

A personal best...

My word, what a lot of weather we're having along the south coast at the moment - more like April showers than winter - but it does give me reason to go out again during late afternoon to see what can be had with a camera.

I'm no sooner riding along Bournemouth's sea front when I'm caught in one of the aforementioned showers and take shelter on Boscombe pier, where I photograph the rain coming down over the Isle of Purbeck. Unfortunately, the pier closes at 4pm at this time of year, so I'm ejected before the gates are locked.

I make my way west before eventually stopping to photograph the last of the afternoon light at Branksome Beach. I'm carrying a fisheye lens with me on this occasion - not the land or sea-scapers first choice of optic -  but occasionally it comes in handy for something a bit different, with its 180º angle of view from corner to corner, and huge depth of field. At least I don't have to worry about level horizons, and straight lines are out of the window, so it's a fun lens to use with the right subjects.

I also think I've made something of a record for this blog, today: 14 posts in a month (and still four days to go).


10.5 mm f/2.8G Fisheye Nikkor. 1/320 second at f/11. - 0.67 EV compensation. ISO 400


© 2012

Halfway to France...

An early morning check of the Met Office's Infrared satellite image tells me all I need to know: clear skies over much of England. That, plus light winds, and it's a recipe for a pre-dawn start for some early morning exercise and photography thrown in along the way, should anything present itself to the camera.

On such ventures it is always my policy to ride into the wind on the outward leg of the trip - it's so much nicer (and easier) to have it on my back going home - so I again cycle west along the front of Poole bay as the dawn begins to break. Sunrise is at 7.50am, but I won't see that due to the cloud bank that so often sits on the horizon (in the photo it is roughly half way across the English Channel), but I start making photographs the moment I arrive at a favourite spot on the beach of Canford Cliffs.

I shoot a number of images into the light as the sun breaks above the cloud, but it's the delicate pastel hues of the early morning light that produces the best image, with Handfast Point and Old Harry Rocks on the horizon.


24-70mm f/2.8 AF-S Nikkor. 1/320 second at f/8. ISO 400


© 2012

Shower clouds and meteorological phenomena...

For once the Met Office's weather forecast was accurate. Hyperbole, of course - we all like to moan about how far out the weather forecast is almost as much as we like to moan about the weather - but today I experienced the full gamut of its prediction.

So, heading into a brisk Westerly wind I arrive at Sandbanks, Poole, as the tide is going out. There are a few kite surfers doing their stuff on the water - and I do mine - with the obligatory shots that I know I'll never use. Even with this in mind it serves as a warm up: to get my eye in and look for images or situations to photograph - getting in the mood, if you like. Ordinarily, these frames languish on one of several hard drives, never to see the light of day again, but earlier this week I executed a pretty severe edit of such images dating back to August of last year, and consigned 2283 RAW files to the trash.

It's as I'm half-heartedly shooting the kite surfers that shower clouds roll in and darken the sky, and rain is visible in the far distance. This is only temporary, because no sooner has the cloud moved directly overhead the horizon begins to lighten. Straight away I know there will be a rainbow to shoot, so I start looking for a suitable scene to capture the event.

The rain itself bypasses me, and I am able to capture the optical phenomenon over the sea, as well as part of the shower system that caused it.


18-35mm f3.5-4.5 ED Nikkor. 1/1250 second at f/8. - 0.33 EV compensation. ISO 560


© 2012