Spring!

For the first time this year I feel confident enough to go out shooting without a coat, as temperatures are expected to hit 20 ºC across parts of the UK. Whether that occurred in my part of the county or not is by-the-by: it was warm outside today. Spring!

I feel I have now gleaned enough information from locals as to the whereabouts of the elusive otter that I have been recently seeking, so all it really requires is to plan an early start and hope for the best. The upcoming weekend seems a likely bet.

It's on my way back from my latest "fact finding mission" that I come across a fine specimen of a willow, resplendent with male catkins (photo), and notice the attention given to them by a large number of bees. I am forced to press a super-telephoto lens into service as a close up lens (it's the only lens I'm carrying) if I want any meaningful images, and start making photographs, but it's the sudden arrival of a Red Admiral butterfly that makes the afternoon's shoot a success.


300mm f/2.8 AF-S VR Nikkor. 1/1600 second at f/4.  -0.33 EV compensation. ISO 200. Monopod


© 2012

The writes of spring...

You make me feel like spring has sprung, sang Frank Sinatra in 1956, and to a large extent it has, but not in a spectacular way. More of an indecisive crawl, to be honest, possibly due to spells of mild weather interspersed with very cold snaps during the early part of the year. Daffodils, for example have been sprouting and blooming since mid-January, and there are still some not open at one of my favourite locations.

This year the display is less than unified, and many at Branksome  on Poole bay, Dorset, are withering whilst others are in their full glory (photo) or yet to open at all. Of course, a late spring means a longer spring, so maybe that's a good thing, but it's nothing to write home about and I'm struggling for good images. I try all the usual approaches and angles before opting to shoot wide. Very wide.

I dig out my fisheye lens - specially brought along for the purpose - and get down to ground level, with the trumpets almost touching the front element of the lens. I'm shoot by framing the blooms using the display screen on the back of the camera (something I rarely do) but this technique undoubtedly produced the more interesting images of the series on this occasion.


10.5mm f/2.8G Fisheye Nikkor. 1/1000 secons at f/6.3.  -0.33 EV compensation. ISO 200


© 2012

Little effort and big returns...

It is a bright and clear day, and springtime. It's   official: the vernal equinox was yesterday, and for the first time this year we have more daylight than darkness in the northern hemisphere. What better way to celebrate that to get out for some wildlife photography.

In actual fact, bright, sunny conditions is not the best time to choose for such subjects, as the directional light tends to wash out colours and increase contrast, but I have something specific in mind. I want to photograph the local Grey Herons feeding.

I return to a favoured feeding spot, armed with the necessary lens and support, and spend three hours shooting a heron and egret, busying themselves in the art of survival. I also manage several good flight shots of the egret, but it is the heron's behaviour that intrigues me. Ordinarily, these birds stalk their prey and then strike with lightning precision, but this one (above) had perfected the technique of watch and wait, and snatched fish (I am informed that they are trout) out of the air as they jumped the rocks in their effort to  make their way upstream. An effective strategy that involved very little effort for big returns.


300mm f/2.8 AF-S VR Nikkor with TC-14EII converter. 1/2000 second at f/6.3.  - 1 stop EV compensation. ISO 400. Monopod


© 2012

Food for thought...

Conditions over the past five days have been less than conducive for the early starts that will be necessary to photograph the otters on the Dorset Stour. This is probably more down to me being less than willing to drag myself out of the house before dawn than the weather itself, but today I feel I made some progress in my search.

But once again my movements are arrested by the presence of a Grey Heron feeding on rocks that straddle the river, and once again this magnificent bird performs for the camera. I get several good images of both stalking and flight shots, but choose this particular image for the blog

Having spent more than an hour patiently waiting to get what I want from a photographic point of view, the heron helpfully flies off, and I move on to a recommended location by (yet) another local.

Again, no otters, but for the first time I see evidence that they are, indeed, in the area, by way of a fish skull stripped bare and left on the river bank. I'm no angler, but to me it looks like a pike, purely because of the rows of backwards facing teeth. If it is, then it's clear that otters are quite formidable predators.


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


© 2012

Distracted...

The blanket of cloud on the visible satellite image provided by the Met Office was, apparently, wafer thin, so once the sun got high enough it burnt large holes in it across the UK. I hadn't planned on shooting today, but once it brightened up I found the idea irresistible.

I think about resuming my search for otters, and return to a local river, suitably equipped with the right lens, primarily to cover more ground than earlier in the week. It is, however, something of a half-hearted hunt as I know it is not the best time of day for a sighting. Nevertheless, I keep an eye out all the same for evidence of their presence. Nothing.

Despite drawing a blank in that respect I do come across something worth photographing, though, as it is the mating season. Several pairs of ducks and Mute Swans are busying themselves with ritualistic behaviour on the river: this mallard, for example, taking flight from the river in pursuance of a female. Quite easy to get images like this, since the waterfowl have other things on their minds than me being there, taking photographs.


300mm f/2.8 AF-S VR Nikkor with TC-14EII converter. 1/2000 second at f/5.  - 1 stop EV compensation. ISO 640. Monopod


© 2012

Off the rocks...

As planned yesterday, I set out in the early afternoon in search of otters on the Dorset Stour. It is mainly a reconnaissance trip today, but I am travelling fully equipped. just in case. My first choice location visit drew a blank, but chatting to a local (another fisherman), I was informed that I was in the right area - but my timing was poor. He advised me to try a specific stretch of riverbank further upstream. I acknowledge his input and get back on my bike.

My secondary location, as supplied by the aforementioned angler, proved to be just as fruitless, otter wise, but no matter. Making further enquiries I was constantly informed by people with local knowledge that early morning was my best bet - but not here: "You want to go further upstream for otters", they all advised. I did, but still no evidence of my quarry. Again, it didn't matter, as it was a fine, warm spring day and I was enjoying the scenery as much as anything.

I decide to give the search another half mile or so when I come across a weir across the river, and more importantly, a Grey Heron and Little Egret vying for space to feed in prime positions. Well, it was somewhat more one sided than that, as the heron - by far the larger of the two birds - was not willing to tolerate the egret's presence, and repeatedly chased it off of rocks. It is during this activity that I am able to get some good flight shots.

No otters today, but that hardly mattered in the end.



300mm f/2.8 AF-S VR Nikkor with TC-14EII converter.

Top: 1/2000 second at f/5.  -1 stop EV compensation. ISO 400
Right: 1/4000 at f/5. - 1 stop EV compensation. ISO 400


© 2012

Spring...

No doubt in my mind: it's here.The weather, the wild and plant life all shout it, although curiously, some of the flowers that promised so much in the early part of the year now appear to be lagging behind: daffodils, I'm looking at you (if only). Maybe I am being a little impatient. More than likely.

I spend a few hours in the Stour Valley Local Nature Reserve in Dorset, and in that time I am treated to the sights of a Great Spotted Woodpecker, a kingfisher, a buzzard, a Red Admiral butterfly and the chap on the right; the only one of which I got a shot of. The others were simply too far away or too quick.

Oh yes, the chap on the right is a Little Egret.

As I mentioned above the flora (as well as the fauna) is kicking off, and the photograph of the Common Hawthorn flowering against a blue sky sums up spring for me, and I couldn't resist the opportunity once again to take a few shots.

I also spend a while talking to a fisherman on the riverbank - not my cup of Earl Gray, fishing - but you never know what gem of local information these people may impart, and today I'm lucky. I know otters have re-established themselves on the Dorset Stour, but as yet I have not had the pleasure of seeing, let alone photographing one. All that is to change, it seems.

"Otters! You want otters?" the angler asks. Yes, I say, and he goes on at some length, giving me precise directions to the location where I will find them. Seemingly satisfied that I have understood him to the letter, and to drive the point well and truly home, he concludes his deliverance with: "...and if you don't find them there, then you won't find them anywhere. I stake my reputation on it". What reputation, I think to myself - I have no idea who he is! I thank him and cycle off.

Tomorrow is time for a spot of reconnaissance... and a long lens.


Top: 300mm f/4D AF-S Nikkor. 1/2500 second at f/7.1.  -1stop EV compensation. ISO 400
Below: 24-70mm f/2.8D AF-S Nikkor. 1/800 second at f/5.6. + 0.33 EV compensation. ISO 400


© 2012

Yet another stone...

I've got to stop doing this. I'm getting into a photographic rut, and I need to break out of it and photograph something different. For the best part of a month I have spent most afternoons ambling along the beach of Poole bay, Dorset, photographing details I come across, such as stones, seaweed, feathers, and anything else abandoned by the falling tide or highlighted by oblique light.

I am getting a good number of interesting images - always different from the previous visit - plus one or two surprises, but I feel I'm beginning to repeat myself. However, today there is an exceptionally low tide during late afternoon, and as the sky is totally clear I'm not going to waste it all.

So here, for the last time in a good while (hopefully, eh?), I publish yet another stone on the beach, lit by the evening sun...at low tide. Thank you.


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


© 2012

Walking the backshore...

This afternoon I make an impromptu trip to the beach with a camera, and am immediately struck by the way the light catches the ripples and hollows of the wind blown sand. Immediately, I know what my subjects will be.

Unlike those of the past few weeks, I keep my walk away from the surf line and concentrate on objects found on the backshore - the generally dry part of the beach. At this time of the week the sand has had the opportunity to recover from weekend users, and it is mostly smooth due to wind action.

Long before I uploaded the images to my computer I had made the decision to convert the most successful photograph(s) to monochrome, using shape and form, rather than colour, to get my point across.


105mm f/2.8D Sigma macro lens. 1/250 second at f/11. + 0.33 EV compensation. ISO 400. Monopod


© 2012

Rainbow tree...

It rained for most of the night, and well into the morning, but keeping a watchful eye on the UK weather satellite image paid dividends. By 2.30pm the weather front had passed, and I was out chasing the light.

To be honest, butterflies were my intended subjects, but it soon became apparent that it was not going to the best conditions to look for them. Despite the sunshine it was rather cold.

Shortly after arriving at my chosen location it began to rain again; followed by hail stones. Then the skies cleared and the sun came out - went back in again - and it rained some more, followed by hail...

This cycle went on for the best part of the time I stood on the bank of the Dorset Stour, but complain I did not, as it was producing the most beautiful dramatic light. I had been concentrating my efforts on general river scenes - and produced at least one pleasing shot - but it was on my way home that I took today's photograph. I have passed this tree many times, and always knew there was a photograph in there somewhere. Today, I was in the right place at the right time.


24-70mm f/2.8G AF-S Nikkor. 1/400 second at f/11.  - 1 stop EV compensation. ISO 400


© 2012

Better than expected...

I've just about had it with weather forecasts that make predictions several days in advance. More often than not they are unreliable, making the planning of specific photographic shoots a lottery. A swift look at a satellite weather map, and then a look out of the window on the day seems to be the best policy when conditions are unsettled.

Today, rain is predicted for the best part, but by mid morning the cloud rolled away overhead and blue skies appeared: time for that reshoot of willow catkins. Since I am shooting a predetermined subject I restrict my lens choice to a standard zoom and a macro lens. Not ideal, as it turns out.

I take my catkin photographs as planned (the final results almost as disappointing as the previous attempt, but better quality), before noticing a nearby hawthorn in full bloom. But as spectacular as it is, the real treat is the appearance of a Red Admiral butterfly, busily feeding from flower to flower. Of course, my long lenses are at home, so I make do with what I have (image), making the mental note to return with something more appropriate another day.

Monday is supposed to be good, weather wise, but that's another story.


105mm f/2.8D Sigma macro lens. 1/800 second at f/7.1. + 0.33 EV compensation. ISO 400


© 2012

Cherry Blossom Orchard: cherry blossom on the trees...

A foggy start to the day gave way to warm spring sunshine, so I pay a second visit to the Stour Valley Local Nature Reserve with the preconceived intention of photographing willow catkins with a fast wide angle lens.

The lens I had for the job was a Sigma 20mm f/1.8, which I have had since the days I shot on film. Now, most lenses perform at their best when stopped down a couple of f-stops, so it was something of a gamble to use such an optic wide open for the most effective differential focus. Unfortunately, my suspicions were confirmed when I opened the resulting files on my computer. A reshoot is already planned.

Blissfully unaware that I had not got the images I thought I had, I move to the perimeter of the reserve, and come across the blossoming cherry trees of Cherry Tree Orchard. It is sights like this (photo) that epitomise the season of spring for me, and my macro lens gets its most use during the year. Wonderful.


105mm f/2.8D Sigma macro lens. 1/320 second at f/11. ISO 500. Monopod


© 2012

Nobody home...

For the first time this year I go out without a coat on. Granted, I have a fleece tied around my waist to cover all eventualities, but although there are three weeks to go before the spring equinox it is very mild, weather wise. All that is needed now is for the Met Office to get its act together with the long range forecast (woeful!). I make my final afternoon walk for the time being along the shore of Poole bay, looking for this, that and the other to photograph.

Expect the unexpected, I wrote on Saturday last week (supported by the image on Monday). This is good advice, but what I came across today takes the biscuit: a dead frog on the surf line. There is no fresh water (apart from garden ponds - and the nearest would be several hundred yards away, on the cliff tops) for several miles, so it is something of a mystery as to why such an amphibian should be where it was. I took two shots, but decided against publishing on here.

Today's photograph is of the shell of the blue muscle (Mytilus edulis), although the original occupant had clearly legged it before I got there.


105mm f/2.8D Sigma macro lens. 1/100 at f/11. + 0.67 EV compensation. ISO 400. Monopod


© 2012

Heads down, no nonsense...

Until spring gets itself into gear and "pops" there seems to be little to look forward to from a photographic point of view. The next five days, for example: either blanket cloud cover, or rain is predicted. There will be no significant tide fluctuations along the coast, and nature itself is yet to produce its full display. Time for some more  heads-down, no nonsense, in-close shooting with a macro lens.

I am currently fascinated by objects found along the surf line of Poole bay, whether they be natural or man made, and the shapes left in the sand that echo the objects, made by the swirling water as it washes over them and drains away. Keep an eye out for contrasts in colour, shape and texture, and there is a wealth of subjects for a photographer to point a lens at when the light might be considered less than ideal.


105mm f/2.8D Sigma macro lens. 1/50 second at f/7.1. - 0.33 EV compensation. ISO 500. Monopod


© 2012

Small details and roses...

No exceptionally low tides or spectacular light today, but it is calm and mild, so I spend a quiet couple of hours strolling along the beach looking for shapes and textures to photograph. I'm primarily using a macro lens - useful for picking out small detail such as stones, seaweed and even feathers - left high and dry on a falling tide, but the last thing I expected to find was flowers.

Roses, to be specific; in fact there were several strewn across the sand near Boscombe pier, Dorset. My first thought was they had been used as a prop for a wedding shoot on the beach - something that is becoming increasingly fashionable in this country - and then abandoned once they had served their purpose, but it seems unlikely. After all, those thorns (they were all still attached) are not something a new bride would want to contend with whilst being photographed for posterity, and roses don't strike me as the type of flower that is traditionally used in bouquets for brides. Maybe I'm missing something.

Frankly, I am at a loss, but it seems a great shame for anyone to just dump perfectly good flowers on the sea shore.


My friend Nic, having seen the photograph, sent me the last verse of Fare Thee Well, by Aulis Sallinen (a song about leaving a love behind and going out to sea).  It is a song from his collection of  "Songs from the Sea". We feel it fits the image very well:

If I should die,
A little flow'r plant in memory.
Oh tend it well, my darling,
And when it blooms in the summer think of me
And cast a blossom upon the sea.


12-24mm f/4G AF-S Nikkor. 1/800 second at f/4. - 0.33 EV compensation. ISO 500


© 2012

Expect the unexpected...

From what I can garner, the Met Office weather forecast is as chaotic as the emerging season of spring: neither seem to be able to make their mind up. Instead of the predicted cloud cover I have warm spring sunshine, and flowers beginning to bloom three months early, as with the common hawthorn (left).

My original intention was to photograph emerging willow catkins along the Dorset Stour - that, too, is happening (but at roughly the right time) - but the hawthorn was completely unexpected.


105mm f/2.8D Sigma macro lens. 1/1600 at f/5.6 - 0.33 EV compensation. ISO 400, Monopod


© 2012

Pay day...

Today couldn't be any more different from yesterday's dark skies and rain. It is, without fear of contradiction, a fine and sunny Spring day, with crocuses blooming in a local park and temperatures of 16ºC.

Persistence also pays off handsomely, after two weeks of returning to the same location in search of a good sunset photograph at low tide. Low water is due late in the afternoon, and I walk west along the shoreline of Poole bay, Dorset, for a mile or so, snapping waves and cloud patterns, with the intention of timing my arrival at a favourite spot to coincide with the event.

It's a spring tide, the lowest of the month, and the required tide pools and expanses of flat, wet sand are all in place at the location I want to shoot at; but the sky isn't. Well, it's where it should be - up above - but not interesting.

I decide to stick it out and hope nature delivers before the tide turns and I'm forced to retreat; and it does - in spades. I make a good number of images as the sun drops below the cloud bank to produce a dramatic sky that reflects superbly in my chosen pool. Perfection.


12-24mm f/4G AF-S Nikkor. 1/500 second at f/11. - 0.67 EV compensation. ISO 200


© 2012

Fetch...

It's the sort of day that most people hate: not particularly warm, windy and raining - not what you might call outdoor weather - unless you are a photographer.

The tide predictions for this week indicate low water towards late afternoon, and I decide to be there with my camera in search of large expanses of pristine wet sand, and possibly dramatic cloud formations reflected in tide pools. Except it is raining. And the cloud covers the entire sky.

But I'm not going to let that stop me. I'm on the beach roughly half an hour before low tide, and as far as I can see in either direction, I'm the only one there. I trudge into the wind and steady rain until I reach Boscombe pier, where I take a number of photographs of wooden groyne posts set against a stormy sky.

All standard stuff,  but it's the sudden appearance of another brave soul willing to brave the murky afternoon and exercise their dog that raises my hopes for something interesting. Repeatedly, the owner flings a ball and the pooch willingly gives chase, while I attempt to compose through a wet and misty viewfinder. After 25 shots I get the image I'm after.


24-70mm f/2.8G AF-S Nikkor. 1/125 second at f/8. + 0.67 EV compensation. ISO 800


© 2012

Running man (and his dog)...

True to the Met Office's prediction, the cold snap has been replaced with mild weather. At this time of year there is the usual trade off: clear/cold, or cloudy/mild. The latter prevails this afternoon as I set out with my camera, and once again I choose to shoot seascapes. I find this time of year conducive to dramatic images, as the sun is low in the sky and strong winds often produce rough seas.

No sooner than I arrived at the cliff tops at Southbourne, I am presented with dark, broken cloud, pierced by shafts of sunlight that pick out and illuminate various details. This could prove interesting. The beach itself is almost deserted, apart from the occasional dog walker, or runner, as seen here. I time my exposure to coincide with the figure running into the light.

Spring must have arrived: official! On my way home I notice that all three tennis courts in a local park have a match being played. Good news, indeed.


24-70mm f/2.8G AF-S Nikkor. 1/800 second at f/11. + 0.33 EV compensation. ISO 200


© 2012

Taking my time...

The cold snap has turned out to be anything but, in my neck of the woods: cold, yes, but not freezing. In fact, it turned out to be such a pleasant day I ventured out again during mid afternoon for some more photography, but at a more relaxed pace.

I say relaxed, as this morning's shoot was very much 'let's get this over with quick', due to the cold. As I've mentioned elsewhere on this blog, the (very) cold is starting to get to me, despite all the appropriate clobber for insulation. Maybe I need to upgrade it all, I don't know.

So, Sandbanks it is. The moment I arrive - it's low tide - I'm faced with dramatic cloud formations and great light and immediately start making photographs. The light continually changes, and I have to work quickly to get what I'm after, and keep a wide angle lens on the camera to capture as much of it as possible.

The image was taken moments before the incoming tide ruined the reflection, as the sun set over Brownsea Island on the horizon.


12-24mm f/4G AF-S Nikkor. 1/320 second at f/13. + 0.67 EV compensation. ISO 400

© 2012