The past couple of days I’ve been experimenting with the old Pentacon 50mm f/1.8 lens; its bokeh wide-open is quite spectacular, giving this small scene a strong sense of depth.
It’s a bright sunny bank-holiday weekend, which means only one thing.
Of five approaching cars at which I waved, only one young yet surprisingly dour-looking passenger waved back.
Visiting vehicles are easily identified by how caravans clog-up the roads, how cars perform 3-point turns in the mouths of T-junctions.
Avoiding eye-contact becomes the norm, as does the body-language of shying-away from Dog when passing on the pavement. Instead, out come the silver insulated food bags that bring their suburban life to us, their chilled packet contents probably bought from the perceived safety of a generic supermarket en route rather than in one of the local shops.
It speaks of an indifference to the existing social networks within the village being invaded, a separation of us versus the self-centred them.
I do not see merit in the argument that tourism is good for the local economy. It might seem to be, in a short-sighted fashion; but when all visitors see is each other and perceive landscape as pretty, its shallowness does not compare to the depth and quality of soul that comes from involving oneself in committing one’s life and work to a place.
A couple of days ago the shed door started coming off its hinges altogether in ordinary use – the wood underlying the screws had rotten away.
This afternoon, we burned the whole thing – and a great bonfire it made, too, with the roofing felt melting, burning, exuding a thick black smoke (fortunately not for too long).
I walked maybe half a mile along the pebbled shores of Loch Ryan, attempting to make interesting photos in classical landscape style. Of this kind of scene, one particular favourite survived the editing purge:
However, the photo I favour most from this afternoon was a serendipitous find, a result of some gentle urban exploration. Just standing in the doorway of this ruined building, all the light through the windows and lines and curves somehow fell together into a classic composition, a celebration of abandonment in grunge:
It also looks radically different in colour:
I’ve made a few photos of this waterfall since the start of the year: it might only be small, located a long walk away from home in the corner of Port Mora bay beside a cave, but being my own discovery makes it more favourite than some of the other waterfalls in Galloway.
SRB ND1000 filter, two frames at 30s each; experimenting with a fairly thick-black tonality and the 6×7 portrait aspect-ratio.
Well, they say photography is partly about seeing interest in mundane things. So here are five views of a simple bit of street-furniture:
- fisheye, defished – for an ultrawide distorted effect, the bollard in its context
- minimalist – all distracting elements removed for a pure study of lines
- abstract – reduced to a pattern of lines, curves and textures (two of these)
- telephoto – from afar, with moderate context
All are black and white, HDR made from 3 frames bracketed +/-1EV.
This is what it looked like, walking Dog through the local woods this morning.