May Day Morris Dancing

This morning the alarm was set for before dawn, to ensure we arrived at Wandlebury, just outside Cambridge, in time to see the dawn Morris Dancing by the Devil's Dyke Morris Men on this May Day morning. The day when tradition has it to roll in the dewy grass, although today the dew was of the white crunch variety.

(This is the holding page to ensure a 1st May date on the blog post and whilst the rest of the edit is completed in between a full weekend of assignments. Do come back later for the full set of images)

Solar Eclipse 20.3.15 - An Alternative View

Here is a view of today's solar eclipse in a way you definintely won't have seen in all those shots which have flooded the media today! Foget the images of a perfect white crescent on a black background, this is an image captured from above the clouds just at the end of totality.

We just happened to be booked onto a flight from Manchester to Rekjavik at 7.45 this morning and it dawned on us that we woud be passing through the region of totality at about 9.30, high above the Atlantic and close to the Faroe Islands.

We left on flight EZY1805 under the command of Captain, Daniel Marshall (based at Gatwick) and First Officer, James Hope (based at Manchester) Unfortunately we had experienced a little unexpected turbulence during the early part of the flight which wasn't very promising. Sadly, the eclipse was happening right behind us, but a cheer went up when the captain announced that special permission had been given for just us and also the Luton Easyjet flight, to circle twice over Faroe Islands region during totality. The sky began to go dark and a daytime sunset spread across the horizon. Unfortunately, the 2x window seats that we had requested for our party of 4 had been booked as 1x and our daughter (the birthday girl) wogged the window seat, leaving me to lean across as best I could whilst the plane continued two circuits (and not forgetting bumps!) in an attempt to give all passengers a glimpse of the eclipse. I could only anticipate when it might come into oblique view.

Of course, I was after the perfect white crescent on a black background - who wouldn't? But with a moving target, a moving platform and a limited view, I woud have to content myself with with whatever I could get...and I got something that probably few others would ever get.

As the sun emerged from the short-lived totality, the bright sunlight burst at the camera (I was of course being careful not to look through the viewfinder).

The refracted tiny image above the sunburst revealing the eclipse status.

I only managed to fire off a couple of bounced-around shots before it all disappeared from my line of sight again. Unsure what I may or may not have captured, it was only when reviewing my images, I realised I had indeed captured the eclipse - albeit an indirect image. This sunburst had created a tiny image or two of the sun, refracted within the twin-skin windows, and clearly showing the crescent status. Whilst it will win no prizes, I can truly say that this was taken from a unique location and viewed in a way I will never see the like of again.

A special birthday show for our daughter - Happy birthday E!

"EasyJet passengers flying to Iceland from the UK on Friday are set to be amongst a select group people anywhere in the world to have a front row seat of one the most spectacular natural phenomenon’s - a total solar eclipse."

https://twitter.com/easyJet/status/578979431433170944/photo/1

https://twitter.com/airlivenet/status/578864502990585856

Day 22 - August Challenge 14

Challenge - "Composite of land to be lost"

Suggested by - Simon via blog

"How about a composite photo of the open farmland to the east of Saffron Walden soon to be despoiled by unsustainable development, thanks to the combined efforts of our elected representatives and planners at Uttlesford District Council.

Possibly not your greatest challenge, but at least, it will provide a record of what we have lost for ever."


When I throw out the request for challenges for me to take on, I make it my policy to try not to reject any suggestion, unless it is clearly isn't within the brief. I will never reject on the grounds it might be difficult, but being difficult doesn't just relate to the execution of it, (and this one was going to be a bit difficult) it can also be due to the subject matter itself. When this one popped up, I knew it would be one that could be emotive amongst my potential viewers. I wasn't going to reject it on those grounds, as it would just amount to a form of censoring. I would prefer to allow everyone their view, whilst I merely provide an impartial backdrop to it. So maybe this post could be seen as failing the challenge - I will accept that but equally, hope you will understand.

Nationally, the housing shortage is creating quite a stir and equally, proposed developments to resolve the problem are proving just as contentious. Saffron Walden is not immune to this and I will leave you, the reader, to Google the comings and goings of the matter, as there is much available.

Following a short shower of rain this evening, I took myself to the area in question to capture just a snippet of the farmland spoken of, and reflected on the need for housing and the potential loss of greenbelt. Never an easy task. I thought of how the town has has already enlarged and filled so many building spaces in the 30 or so years I have lived here. Towns will always have a changing face. However, what needs to be carefully thought through is whether the final decision is for the good of the people and the town as a whole. Those in the determining roles are charged with making such decisions, and we and future generations will have to live with it. In that case, we can only hope it is all considered carefully and with understanding.

As I watched the sun go down over both old and new housing areas in this corner of town I just thought how fortunate I was to live in a lovely part of the country.

Today's image and all the other images from my August Challenge will be on display in Design Essentials during September

Tomorrow, Day 23

Will be drawn from a selection in the morning

Solstice Sunrise

The alarm had been set for a 1.30 am start and we jumped onto the seat of the BMW having wrapped up warm for a through-the-early-hours ride with a fellow biker to make our way to Lowestoft Ness, the furthest east point in the UK. We were aiming to be there in time for the magic hour of 04.29, the official sunrise time for this furthest point of the country on the day of the summer solstice.

Soon after we set off, a small fingernail of a waning moon glowed almost blood red in the sky, and, as we headed east, the moon rose higher in the sky whilst turning a progressively paler shade of orange. As it did so, the light levels also began to lift, revealing the presence of thin cloud, which was forecast for dawn. We made good progress on the fairly empty roads, the commercial traffic being our main cause for the need to carry out overtaking manoeuvres at that hour, and arrived at the much understated Ness Point at 03.30. Having been to this point before, which is hidden away behind an industrial estate, we knew where to go but to any new adventurer, it is a place which is rather difficult to find as Lowestoft somehow doesn't seem too keen to shout about the fact they hold the accolade of the Eastern cardinal point.

We weren't the first to arrive even though we were almost an hour ahead of sunrise. A solitary cyclist stood motionless in the middle of special ground-based compass point as the sound of the huge whooshing landmark turbine swept the chilly rotations behind us. It was not long before a distinct rumble heralded the arrival of a group of Harley riders, swelling our numbers considerably, these determined motorcyclists being at the beginning of their challenge to see both sunrise and sunset at the extremities of England. Next stop for them, Lands End.

Not for us today though. We all watched and waited as the tiny stripe of glowing red began to divide the grey of the sea from the grey band of cloud which hung over the horizon. This was not going to be a stunning solstice sunrise. 

 

A faint colour wash began to appear in the clear sky above the cloud, heralding the emergence of the sun on this day, which for many, has a significance or fascination. We were there because we could be there, others, because they needed to be there.

Looking out to the East along with the now sizeable crowd, a passing Druid wished us a happy solstice day as the sun's rays finally clipped the top of the cloud, tinting the gentle waves with a soft golden glow.
The day now well under way, we jumped back on the bikes to head along the coast, where another group motorcyclists were waiting for us to join them for some welcome breakfast.
In sleepy Cromer? Not a chance at that hour, so instead we headed for home.
This was the solstice sunrise over for another year.

All Too Much

It was all too much!
Not for me - I was enjoying every sun-drenched-Saturday-morning-moment of it.
No, sadly it was too much for my trusty photographer's assistant. Approaching thirteen years old now, she has noticeably slowed down, and particularly so since October when she started to tell us when she had had enough, rather than us calling time on the walks.
It is sad, as having such a wonderful companion for both indoors and particularly outdoors, has provided opportunities to explore our locality in depth and to develop a love and appreciation of the nature and wildlife in special places.

No more so than this particular corner of North Essex, where the gentle undulations of this cosy countryside meet the flat fens of Cambridgeshire. From this part of the Icknield Way, it is possible to see as far as Ely on a clear day.
Despite the sunshine on Saturday, the light was only good enough to pick out features in Cambridge and thereabouts, with the dishes of the Mullard Observatory highlighted in the distant landscape.

Many hours have I sat on the edges of the fields, surrounded by deer-filled woodland, and many times have I blogged and more recently, tweeted about the seasonal changes which I observe here. For me the place and the natural progress of the year are always magical.
As I sat quietly on Saturday, I listened to a whole range of bird song - blue tits, great tits, long-tailed tits - I even thought I heard the 'little bit of bread' of the yellow hammer but the 'no cheese' seemed to be absent. Woodpeckers drummed and crows cawed - this wonderful symphony of birdsong broken only by the unwelcome roar of the big metal birds moving in and out of the nearby busy airport.
These roaring interludes though, were the perfect time to look more closely around me, spotting the first tiny flashes of glorious blue beaming up from the speedwell.

Despite the sunshine, it was still very much a 'wellie-walk' with mutt up to her usual bubble-patting in the puddles, the swirling patterns of disturbed silt highlighted in her wake.

Upon reaching the old farm bath houses (and boy, could mutt have done with the use of one by this stage!), the sun had reached its apex. The carpet of ageing snowdrops still adding a glorious intensity to the light around the derelict buildings. Rare of late, the shafts of sunlight reached in through the broken windows, the frames casting crisp dark shadows on the walls.

On the window sill, the relics of a once useful facility had morphed into a snail-like reminder of the change of pace in this wooded corner of the farm yard.

Who knows what tales the peeling walls could tell if only they could speak?

And as for my favourite resident farm yard ladies, well, a hello had to be made to them too before we set off on the return leg of this gentle three-hour stroll in the sunny countryside, arriving back home just in time for our lunch.

Mutt took to her bed as soon as we arrived home, and slept for hours. Not unusual, except when she did emerge from her sunny sleeping place, it was clear that her front right leg was giving her trouble again. I say again, as a similar action was made after a long walk during our visit to the Cotswolds a couple of weeks back. On that occasion though, she was up and bouncy by the next morning. Sadly, we are now into day three of hop-along-mutt and clearly recovery is going to take much longer now that she is mature in years - and at nearly 90 years old in our terms, it is hardly surprising!

I would like my assistant to be able to come along with me for a good while yet as we have shared many happy hours together, exploring the the nooks and crannies of this, very definitely not TOWIE corner of the county.
For now though it will have to be just a small amble around the block for the fresh air, and it certainly isn't too much for us to give her lots of rest and TLC.


Post script 28.2.14

After a few days of her making no fuss, we eventually got to the reason for mutts lameness...

This thorn had gone straight in, leaving no obvious mark.
Despite checking her pads on several occasions it was only the swelling and weeping that eventually alerted us to the problem.

Fingers crossed now that she is on the mend.

Which Way to Go?

There are times when it is difficult to know which way to go. There are too many routes to choose.
That is the time to go on a breathing and thinking-space walk.

Armed with camera plus 400mm, a bag of jelly babies for the sugar boost and a willing four-legged photographer's assistant, I went off for one such walk in my favourite place yesterday afternoon, even if it was rather chilly.
The deer were creeping through the trees, the buzzard 'keeing' overhead, the small birds singing, and every now and then the sun put in an appearance...

...sometimes it is just the right medicine!

Winter Murmurings

For the first time in days, the afternoon had been sunny, and for the first time in weeks, that coincided with a time when I was able to shoot off to a local RSPB reserve at Fen Drayton Lakes a winter home to starlings.

Over the past few years, I have tried to get there whenever I can during the murmuration season, some years being more successful than others. So it was with reserve that I took to the road late this afternoon in the hope I might just catch this spectacle. As I drove, I feared I might just be too late, knowing that once the starlings are down for the night, they really are down. I was a little worried when I saw a small swirling mass already busy in the sky when I arrived at the lakes. Would I have time to get parked up and get my camera out before it would all be over?

To be fair, it is getting quite late in the season for the best of shows, and so to see anything would be a bonus.
Then way over in the distance, beyond the bank of trees, they were spotted. A huge swirling mass of starlings on the horizon and it was clear they weren't going to move in our direction and fly directly over us, as I have experienced there in the past.

No sooner had I trained my lens on them and - bam! They were down. That was it.

So, I was left with the beauty of the sunset. A feint single shaft of sunlight shooting up into the sky as the colours developed. Just so beautiful.

And, with a little patience there is usually an encore, and I wasn't disappointed. Around 15 minutes later, the sounds of the rooks and crows began to get louder and before long, the sky was full of the corvid homecomers. For around fifteen minutes, the sound of these birds masked the sound of the traffic rumbling along the nearby A14, as they all plummeted down and vanished into the darkness of the trees to the east of me.

And now I was just left with the beauty of the blue night sky as it blanketed the warmth of the sunset.

Stunning.

Day 28 - August Challenge

Challenge - "Light"

Suggested by - Wendy via Facebook

Light - well, what can I say?!!

Light is so important in our life for almost everything and for a photographer, it can be our best friend or our worst enemy. But what is true, get the light right and it makes for absolutely stunning photographs. For example, one of the most recent images for which the light was perfect, was the mother and baby on Day 25 Light can turn a good image into cracker, and as a photographer, I am always looking for the light: interesting, warm, glittery, there are so many forms of light to look out for. Side lit, back lit, all can be more interesting than just the full-in-the-face light of the middle of the day. Working as a photography tutor, I have often heard the exclamation "The light is wrong" when for example, it has been absolutely gorgeous back lit evening light. Work with it not against it, I say!

Which brings me on to two spells of light which can be the most magical of all - the 'Golden Hours'. The hour as the sun rises and the hour as the sun sets (Depending on where in the world, this period can be longer or shorter than an hour). This is when the light can be at its most stunning. We mustn't forget that without light, we wouldn't have photography. The whole process of creating an image is dependent on how much light reaches the film or the sensor. The dark room process also needs light to produce the final image. So it might come as no surprise then, to learn that the word photography is actually derived from the Greek photo = light, graphy = draw or write. Thus it is often referred to as 'Drawing (or sometimes extending to painting) with light'

And that is literally what I did today, I drew with light. It is one of those fun things that photography groups often workshop, and everyone has seen a similar effect when taking pictures of sparklers on bonfire night. Here, I set up a blacked out room, set the camera up on a tripod with a bulb release, and with a little torch, I practised my handwriting - lots of handwriting - 26 times to be precise! (It's tricky back-to-front and sideways!) And then, I couldn't help my graphic design blood creeping in. For the first time during this month, I have produced a composite image - I added a bit of bokeh sparkle, taken of sunlight passing through some cut glass earlier today.

So, I hope you don't mind my 'creative take' on the subject "Light", Wendy. Quite, quite different from those lovely lights you sell!




The grab shot

My thanks to:
Wendy for the suggestion
Our black mutt for getting under my feet in the dark!








Tomorrow, Day 29

"Clarinet and player"

She Flies Like a Bird...

Cambridge Gliding Centre on a glorious August evening

After going "Up, up and away..." earlier in the month, We were fortunate in joining a group of adventurous souls to experience a bit of "She flies like a bird..." on Monday evening. It seemed that it was only me and himself that had been up in a glider before, with the rest of the group all being a little anxious about their first time. It had been 23 years since we had spent a week on a gliding holiday in Barrow-in-Furnace, and we were looking forward to having the chance to get up in the air for a spot of unpowered flying again.

Checking out the cockpit

Ready for the first person to go flying

Strapping on the parachute... not to deploy but to use as a seat-filling cushion!

Who's going next? Anxiously waiting their turn

A spectacular sky whilst we waited

'Ready as I'll ever be!' The first to go up.

Final preparations

Begin to take up the slack on the winch cable

Steep climb via the winch

...and away

Each flight to be logged

They told me "It's like getting into a bath-tub" ?!!

My turn to prepare

Dials out of view with the canopy up

Clearing the way to be winched up

And what a view! Gransden Lodge Airfield

*          Video of landing          *

 

Now, make sure you undo the right fastening -
the other side is the rip-cord!

Himself in the ready position

Last one down

Now to pack the glider away

End of a great evening

Despite all of the group anxiety, everyone returned to the ground with a big beaming smile.
Hands up those who will be back at the airfield again very soon...

Me and himself, for sure!

Thank you Mark for arranging the evening.