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Thirle Door and the Stacks of Duncansby, Duncansby Head at dawn.
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Photo #1 of my 20 Day Challenge
Daytime Long Exposure in colour
I finished nightshift this morning and headed straight to Muchalls for some 10 stop photography. I previously photographed "The Old Man of Muchalls" sea stack a few months ago so this was a revisit. I knew from my tide times app that the tide would be out which allowed me to do a good bit of exploring in this bay of varying types of rocks boulders and stacks. The Old man was completely out of the water so I will return another evening to get a shot of that stack again. I settled on this smaller stack of which I am unsure of its name. To make it a bit different I mounted the camera on a tiny 6" Manfrotto tripod and the sea was literally lapping in at its feet! Its so rocky down here its hard work getting around its like proper exploring. I am on leave from work for 20 days so I have decided to attempt to do a photo a day whilst im on leave. This of course being photo #1. There is a wealth of information about Muchalls bay and there are many features that will make great photos given the correct conditions of course. A favourite togging location of mine now as it has so much potential.
This focus stack turned out better, although the constant wind was giving me a hard time. Still room for improvement, and maybe next time under better environmental conditions.
I happened to look at a dead shrub and realized that there were at least 7 male Blue Dashers perched on the tips of the twigs. Managed to get four in the shot - reminded me of what Newark Airport looks like some days. Wallkill River NWR, New Jersey.
The lower unit of Double Stack Ruin with it's spiffy new heavy-duty fence. Must have been no picnic hauling that all the way in here.
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Up one canyon and down another on Comb Ridge
I’m often reminded how lucky I am to call this place home. Over the last ten years it’s this passion for photographing the land and sea around here that’s really fired my enthusiasm for the corner of the land I’ve spent almost all of my life in. And when I think about it, it strikes me that there are a number of Cornwalls. You’ll probably recognise a few of them yourselves, from the foodie yachtie “you simply must” well heeled enclaves that most of us locals shun, to the picture perfect villages that we also don’t go to that much - certainly not in the holiday season. Then there’s the mysterious east, on the other side of the sparse open spaces of Bodmin Moor, just across the water from Plymouth - quiet snaking river bends, overlooked, underrated by everyone except for the few that know. The buckets and spades at Newquay and Perranporth, and the artists’ havens of St Ives and Newlyn. The surfers, waiting patiently on their boards throughout the seasons at Fistral, Porthtowan, Portreath and Gwithian. There’s the old Cornwall, our equivalent of the pit villages, mining remnants left over from when the few square miles outside the front door were the richest on the planet - all long gone in these poor relation towns of Redruth and Camborne - but it’s this part of the county that’s home to me now after growing up and living in boat lovers’ Falmouth for more than forty years. Love brought me here to share my life with Ali, who has never lived more than a couple of miles from the middle of Redruth. Her roots are entwined through countless generations of this town and I’ve never been happier than I am here. Nowhere else has ever felt quite so much like home to me.
And talking of love, there’s another Cornwall. A timeless and lonely one where the winds howl, the gulls shriek and the wild ocean roars like an approaching thunderstorm on wintry days. The place where you can taste the salt in the air when you stand on the clifftops. You’ll find it in the northern reaches beyond the Camel Estuary, or on the Lizard to the south, and best of all for me, you can embrace it in the far west. Every time I leave that roundabout on the other side of Penzance things begin to change. Often I take the third exit towards St Just and Pendeen, where Cape Cornwall, Porth Nanven, Kenidjack Castle and the incomparable Botallack lie in wait. Each of those locations have seduced me over and over again like a schoolboy who can’t decide which girl he’s got the biggest crush on. Each one sets the pulses charging whenever I even think about going. Just recently, I’ve been taking the second exit rather more often, driving the last nine miles of the mainland along a road that winds and rises gently towards the edge of eternity at Land’s End. At the moment I can’t get enough of the place. Not Shaun the Sheep World obviously. Besides which, the tourists have mostly gone home now. What has been grabbing me though is that there are more than a few compositions to be found here, for which few ever seem to stumble past the classic view of the stacks - the subject of my last story from Land’s End. Judging by the response, it seems many of you like that view too. I’m pretty fond of it myself - even if I don’t take the camera from the bag, I always stop to take it all in again. But as a stand up comedian once said, “come here, there’s more!”
It was the second time in a week I’d perched the tripod on this rock, hanging over the Atlantic as it bashed onto the base of the cliffs fifty or sixty feet below. I mean just look at the textures in those granite walls! I knew there was a shot waiting here, but I hadn’t quite worked it out yet. The previous Monday had delivered neither colour nor contrast and I’d come away with a black and white long exposure, which I liked well enough, but it wasn’t quite ticking my boxes. I couldn’t help feeling that the finished image was leaning very slightly to the right - and by that I don’t mean the horizon needed levelling. Something was needed, just a little something on the left to even things up a bit. But what can you do when there’s nothing there to balance it all? Build another Shaun the Sheep World half a mile out to sea? Consigning the existing one to it might be a better plan. Enough said - I’m supposed to have stopped ranting about the visitor centre now. Nobody forces me to stay there once I’ve parked the van you know.
But now things were a bit more colourful. I’d deliberately chosen today because the sun had finally promised to pierce the grey skies after a prolonged absence. But should I slightly tweak the foreground and find a nice big rock to frame the left? I tried, but it wasn’t working. And then the blindingly obvious appeared in front of me. A bright patch of sunlight and a big yellow beam spreading across the sea in front of the camera. Sometimes that’s all it takes to restore the balance. The long exposure did something else too, both clouds and sea radiating away from Longships towards me to emphasise the distant subject - erm, for which I used a focal length blend if you were wondering. With a wide angle lens it almost vanishes completely if you want to include the textures in those cliffs. Sometimes you need a bit of jiggery pokery if you want your image to resemble the view in front of you. That’s enough of the technical nonsense now. Otherwise the gaps will start to appear very quickly. Besides which, if you’re still reading, your eyelids have probably closed over a couple of times already and I don’t want to send you to sleep.
Next, I really need to try and make it here in time for a winter sunrise. There are other compositions too you see, and they don’t all involve pointing your camera in the same direction. I think I’m going to be here quite often in the coming months. The love affair with another Cornwall isn’t going away anytime soon.
I made 4 trips to Chicagoland between late June, and early August of 2018 to clean out a storage locker of belongings. I recently was trying to remember what I did on those trips, and came across this photo I took in Mark Llanuza's back yard of a detour stack train (single height containers) I cannot remember why the detour occurred, but I was heading for dinner with Theresa, and stopped off at Mark's enroute, to photograph this train heading WB. It would take the Munger connection, and head North on the old EJ&E to points North. I believe the reason it was single height containers, was because it had to go under McCormick Place, where there is apparently a height restriction.
BNSF 6329 leads the H-GALMEM1 21A as it leaves Old Monroe, MO. on the BNSF Hannibal Sub.
Wrong leader of course....
Train was symbolled as an H train and the rear half was actually freight. Not sure why the occasional GALMEM runs with stacks but its a nice change.
This 300x2s stacked image was lightened in Photoshop. Fire Skies are one of the best uses of this type of post-processing. In this equivalent 10 minute exposure a passing car looks like several cars as a result of these short two second interval,
Frames taken from: www.flickr.com/photos/79387036@N07/48964270637/in/datepos... between 14 and 4 minutes before sunrise.
Camera: Zeiss Ikon Super Ikonta III (531/16)
Lens: Carl Zeiss Tessar f/3.5 75 mm
Film: Ilford HP5 Plus 400
Exposure: 1/150 sec and f/16, hand-held
Film developed and scanned by MeinFilmLab
Edited under Adobe Lightroom
Approaching a meet with 107 at Smail, Q180 cruises through Washago past the 1936 coaling tower.
CN Q180
CN 8845, CN 2835 (mid DPU)
CN Bala Sub.
Washago, ON.
The sea stacks of Reynisdrangar in Iceland. I took shelter in the cave entrance for this composition whilst the rain and wind soaked... everything.
After watching the sun go down over the lighthouse we could see there could be a clear night ahead of us, so we decided to wait it out and hope for the best.
It wasn't one of the best night skies we'd seen (cheers moon...) but we definitely didn't leave disappointed.
I didn't notice this spot until just before we left, the cliff edge framing the lighthouse with the light bouncing off it instantly grabbed my attention.
An attempt at focus stacking an amaryllis...
My attempts at getting it all sharp in my last photo blog...read it here:
For the FlickrFriday theme: Gold
Some James Garfield, US one-dollar coins. Each coin is approx. 2mm thick.
Photographed while wandering with NJ. The Federal Store Luncheonette & Grocer, East 10th Avenue, Mount Pleasant, Vancouver. January 2, 2023.