Thrift Season
As I reported in a recent story, the bluebell season had proved to be a bit of a non event this year. A not very heady combination of poor weather, a poor attitude and even worse composition skills had delivered nothing whatsoever and I’d resorted to the archives for an image to share a story of abject failure. It was time to move on. What was next? Well a return to Echo Beach and Godrevy Lighthouse was long overdue. Very long overdue in fact – I was surprised to note that I hadn’t taken photos here since January. Even more startling was the realisation that on six of the previous eight visits, I hadn’t got beyond downloading the raw files onto my computer. Ok so during that period I was lucky enough to go to Iceland and the Canary Islands, trips which were filled with yet to be shared images, but it did make me wonder what on earth I’d been playing at. Why had I ignored all of these folders, and what was in them? I really should take a look.
So some time towards the end of last week, we headed down to Godrevy in the van. On a sunny afternoon that was colder than it looked, we sat at the field on the headland in our camping chairs, enjoying a cream tea that had arrived as part of an unexpected hamper delivery that morning. It seems that recommending services you’ve been happy with pays dividends once in a while. I’d brought the camera with me of course, with only a passing thought about whether we’d stay long enough for sunset. Really we’d just come down for an afternoon out, and a brief stroll to watch the seals at Mutton Cove before racing back to the van as a shower raced towards us from across the bay. Back in the van another cup of tea was brewed as we settled down to watch the world outside. Ali had a little snooze while I pushed on through the last few chapters of the novel that had taken me away to the dreamland marshes of the North Carolina coast for most of the last week. Afternoon ticked on towards early evening. At some point we’d have to make a decision about food.
So we trundled off to Hayle and continued to abandon our cholesterol levels outside the front door of the local chippy. We could always have alfalfa sprouts tomorrow. Once rumbling stomachs were refuelled, we returned to the exact same spot as before, noting that the gates would be locked at nine. I’d just hop down and have a look. There wasn’t much doing, so I told Ali I’d be back soon. I’m never back soon. She knows that.
After poppies, it’s sea thrift in this rapidly passing floral season. No sooner have the woodland blues begun to wane and descend back into the lush green foliage, the vivid pink blooms appear on clifftops across the coast. And while I’d gradually begun to make sense of bluebell compositions (at least until this year’s big step backwards), the sea thrift had remained complicated. I pretty much always shoot into the light because it’s what inspires me and moves me to landscape photography, but of course that sets its challenges. Shadows, silhouettes, and dynamic ranges to test the computer’s memory later on. I look back to early attempts where I’d followed the letter rather too closely – highlights all the way down, shadows all the way up, noise all the way up with it – all shots where I’d failed to keep the raw files to try again years later as I released the histogram was on the back of my camera for a reason and learned new techniques in the editing suite. At one time I tried a stage of shooting the foreground an hour before the background, but the blend never looked convincing. Focus stacks also came with accompanying headaches – all of those fiddly strands against the blue background sea that looked messy if you dived into the pixels too far.
The most pleasing result to date was one that ironically, I’ve never shared on Flickr. Maybe I should. A beautiful glowing mass of colourful cloud, a clutch of gulls making for the island and an appealing pink patch at the front of the image. Why did I never post it? Not sure, but when I have another creative block like the one I faced in the bluebell woods, I guess I can keep it up my sleeve. Two further years of learning how to use Photoshop will need to be applied first though. It was one of those pesky focus stacks and the blending needs another visit. At least this was in the era since I decided to keep every raw file forever. Except the real duds of course. Mind you that could be a mistake – ICM is so popular nowadays. Even if this is more like UCM.
This evening was also testing my brain cells. In truth, I’d left things late. If I’m out on my own I can happily set up a composition and wait for two hours until the light is at its best. But an hour ago we were queuing at the chippy three miles away in Hayle, and nowhere near any compositions. Not unless Asda superstores are your chosen subject. Now I dashed from one spot to another, always struggling with the gulf of water between the headland and the lighthouse that separated the foreground and background almost irreparably. As I settled on this one, Ali rang to say the man had arrived to lock the gates as a stream of vehicles headed along the clifftop towards the road. At the exact same moment, the sky was starting to get interesting, so shameful to say, I asked her if she could drive Brenda back to the main car park that is never locked, and five minutes later I saw a big red van moving away from me. “Got here without any bumps” came the message.
I settled down as the sun headed towards the horizon and the colours became ever more saturated. By now it was a case of seizing what I could from the scene and hoping for the best, before walking back along the cliff path and remembering what it is that brings me here again and again, whether or not I take photos, and whether or not I get around to working on them later.
Emboldened by her success at driving the van from the field to the car park, Ali drove us home. Cream teas, fish and chips, sea thrift and a chauffeur. Better than frowning in frustration at bluebells that don’t want to play.
Thrift Season
As I reported in a recent story, the bluebell season had proved to be a bit of a non event this year. A not very heady combination of poor weather, a poor attitude and even worse composition skills had delivered nothing whatsoever and I’d resorted to the archives for an image to share a story of abject failure. It was time to move on. What was next? Well a return to Echo Beach and Godrevy Lighthouse was long overdue. Very long overdue in fact – I was surprised to note that I hadn’t taken photos here since January. Even more startling was the realisation that on six of the previous eight visits, I hadn’t got beyond downloading the raw files onto my computer. Ok so during that period I was lucky enough to go to Iceland and the Canary Islands, trips which were filled with yet to be shared images, but it did make me wonder what on earth I’d been playing at. Why had I ignored all of these folders, and what was in them? I really should take a look.
So some time towards the end of last week, we headed down to Godrevy in the van. On a sunny afternoon that was colder than it looked, we sat at the field on the headland in our camping chairs, enjoying a cream tea that had arrived as part of an unexpected hamper delivery that morning. It seems that recommending services you’ve been happy with pays dividends once in a while. I’d brought the camera with me of course, with only a passing thought about whether we’d stay long enough for sunset. Really we’d just come down for an afternoon out, and a brief stroll to watch the seals at Mutton Cove before racing back to the van as a shower raced towards us from across the bay. Back in the van another cup of tea was brewed as we settled down to watch the world outside. Ali had a little snooze while I pushed on through the last few chapters of the novel that had taken me away to the dreamland marshes of the North Carolina coast for most of the last week. Afternoon ticked on towards early evening. At some point we’d have to make a decision about food.
So we trundled off to Hayle and continued to abandon our cholesterol levels outside the front door of the local chippy. We could always have alfalfa sprouts tomorrow. Once rumbling stomachs were refuelled, we returned to the exact same spot as before, noting that the gates would be locked at nine. I’d just hop down and have a look. There wasn’t much doing, so I told Ali I’d be back soon. I’m never back soon. She knows that.
After poppies, it’s sea thrift in this rapidly passing floral season. No sooner have the woodland blues begun to wane and descend back into the lush green foliage, the vivid pink blooms appear on clifftops across the coast. And while I’d gradually begun to make sense of bluebell compositions (at least until this year’s big step backwards), the sea thrift had remained complicated. I pretty much always shoot into the light because it’s what inspires me and moves me to landscape photography, but of course that sets its challenges. Shadows, silhouettes, and dynamic ranges to test the computer’s memory later on. I look back to early attempts where I’d followed the letter rather too closely – highlights all the way down, shadows all the way up, noise all the way up with it – all shots where I’d failed to keep the raw files to try again years later as I released the histogram was on the back of my camera for a reason and learned new techniques in the editing suite. At one time I tried a stage of shooting the foreground an hour before the background, but the blend never looked convincing. Focus stacks also came with accompanying headaches – all of those fiddly strands against the blue background sea that looked messy if you dived into the pixels too far.
The most pleasing result to date was one that ironically, I’ve never shared on Flickr. Maybe I should. A beautiful glowing mass of colourful cloud, a clutch of gulls making for the island and an appealing pink patch at the front of the image. Why did I never post it? Not sure, but when I have another creative block like the one I faced in the bluebell woods, I guess I can keep it up my sleeve. Two further years of learning how to use Photoshop will need to be applied first though. It was one of those pesky focus stacks and the blending needs another visit. At least this was in the era since I decided to keep every raw file forever. Except the real duds of course. Mind you that could be a mistake – ICM is so popular nowadays. Even if this is more like UCM.
This evening was also testing my brain cells. In truth, I’d left things late. If I’m out on my own I can happily set up a composition and wait for two hours until the light is at its best. But an hour ago we were queuing at the chippy three miles away in Hayle, and nowhere near any compositions. Not unless Asda superstores are your chosen subject. Now I dashed from one spot to another, always struggling with the gulf of water between the headland and the lighthouse that separated the foreground and background almost irreparably. As I settled on this one, Ali rang to say the man had arrived to lock the gates as a stream of vehicles headed along the clifftop towards the road. At the exact same moment, the sky was starting to get interesting, so shameful to say, I asked her if she could drive Brenda back to the main car park that is never locked, and five minutes later I saw a big red van moving away from me. “Got here without any bumps” came the message.
I settled down as the sun headed towards the horizon and the colours became ever more saturated. By now it was a case of seizing what I could from the scene and hoping for the best, before walking back along the cliff path and remembering what it is that brings me here again and again, whether or not I take photos, and whether or not I get around to working on them later.
Emboldened by her success at driving the van from the field to the car park, Ali drove us home. Cream teas, fish and chips, sea thrift and a chauffeur. Better than frowning in frustration at bluebells that don’t want to play.