The Old Straight Track
The sky was a jigsaw of torrential showers and brilliant, untroubled blue, each busily becoming one another. A few moments later we were deluged. Ten minutes after, all was sunny.
Perhaps one could agonise in such conditions, but the great blessing of my old Leica was that it encouraged a cavalier attitude to metering. In those days I used a Leningrad 8 - invariably for incident readings - backed by the extraordinary Johnson’s exposure calculator. TTL metering, as on the OM2, gives me nowhere near the confidence. Nor does a modern Sekonic meter. They agree far too well.
This may be blind prejudice, but both seem to detract from the photographer's intuitive freedom. Considering which, it’s a curious fact that the first popular exposure meter was invented and produced by Alfred Watkins (1855-1935), better remembered for discovering Ley Lines.
The latter are usually portrayed as lines of a supposed terrestrial energy, marked by alignments of ancient sites, although Watkins - a sturdy Victorian rationalist - saw them as simply prehistoric paths. His classic book, “The Old Straight Track” was published in 1925 and received a bewildered review in “Amateur Photographer”. Yet Watkins had “discovered” Leys in a moment of visionary insight, a revelation that a hidden, immemorial framework underlay the landscape.
His book was republished in the 1970s, amid a revival of esoteric folklore. It was avidly read by odd adolescents, negotiating the interesting years between the last comic and the first romance. Mine was, anyway :)
This spot - Chalkpit Lane, in the hills above Titchwell - is part of a fascinating and very distinctive grid of minor roads, paths and farm tracks between Ringstead, Burnham Market and the sea. There is good reason to think that much of this - at least - is of Roman origin. It somehow gives the place a mysterious unity, having linked it together for around 2000 years.
A personal note: For the last three years I have worked with people who have what are termed - I think not entirely satisfactorily - “severe learning disabilities”. This often means that I am away from home and off-line for extended periods - far longer than I am home and on-line. If I don’t post, comment or reply it is because of this. Please do not think I am being rude, neglectful or unappreciative :) I won’t excuse myself again as it gets boring for you :)
Chalkpit Lane, above Titchwell, Norfolk. Olympus OM-2n, Zuiko f2.8 28mm, Kodak T-Max 400, Orange Filter.
The Old Straight Track
The sky was a jigsaw of torrential showers and brilliant, untroubled blue, each busily becoming one another. A few moments later we were deluged. Ten minutes after, all was sunny.
Perhaps one could agonise in such conditions, but the great blessing of my old Leica was that it encouraged a cavalier attitude to metering. In those days I used a Leningrad 8 - invariably for incident readings - backed by the extraordinary Johnson’s exposure calculator. TTL metering, as on the OM2, gives me nowhere near the confidence. Nor does a modern Sekonic meter. They agree far too well.
This may be blind prejudice, but both seem to detract from the photographer's intuitive freedom. Considering which, it’s a curious fact that the first popular exposure meter was invented and produced by Alfred Watkins (1855-1935), better remembered for discovering Ley Lines.
The latter are usually portrayed as lines of a supposed terrestrial energy, marked by alignments of ancient sites, although Watkins - a sturdy Victorian rationalist - saw them as simply prehistoric paths. His classic book, “The Old Straight Track” was published in 1925 and received a bewildered review in “Amateur Photographer”. Yet Watkins had “discovered” Leys in a moment of visionary insight, a revelation that a hidden, immemorial framework underlay the landscape.
His book was republished in the 1970s, amid a revival of esoteric folklore. It was avidly read by odd adolescents, negotiating the interesting years between the last comic and the first romance. Mine was, anyway :)
This spot - Chalkpit Lane, in the hills above Titchwell - is part of a fascinating and very distinctive grid of minor roads, paths and farm tracks between Ringstead, Burnham Market and the sea. There is good reason to think that much of this - at least - is of Roman origin. It somehow gives the place a mysterious unity, having linked it together for around 2000 years.
A personal note: For the last three years I have worked with people who have what are termed - I think not entirely satisfactorily - “severe learning disabilities”. This often means that I am away from home and off-line for extended periods - far longer than I am home and on-line. If I don’t post, comment or reply it is because of this. Please do not think I am being rude, neglectful or unappreciative :) I won’t excuse myself again as it gets boring for you :)
Chalkpit Lane, above Titchwell, Norfolk. Olympus OM-2n, Zuiko f2.8 28mm, Kodak T-Max 400, Orange Filter.