Announcing Timelapse.jl – frame interpolation for timelapse photography

A few years ago I wrote a python utility for interpolating a greater number of frames from a smaller set, for use in timelapse video/photography.

Recently, I’ve been trying to learn Julia. As a small challenge – to fulfil a potential forthcoming need – and because it claimed to be quite a fast language – I’ve rewritten the core of the script.

It’s quite refreshing – none of the gratuitous OO classes I had to create with Python, just a couple of functions to do the essential interpolation. And watching the output frames flash by… it’s pretty nippy, too.

It doesn’t yet support EXIF directly, nor can it modify images directly on the fly, but if you want to have a play then go download it from Github

The Hermitage

A small selection of photos from The Hermitage near Dunkeld: some experiments with tree filigree – appreciating the patterns of tree branches and twigs lightly silhouetted against the sky – and the Black Linn waterfall as the River Braan flows through a gorge (some obligatory long-exposure work too, of course).

I met a gorgeous collie-x-lurcher on the way out of the carpark; the mud instantly went to trouser-pocket level and I didn’t care a jot, the merely 4-month-old wee dog was so overjoyed to see everyone.

Quite a nice place to walk in the woods of an afternoon!

Golden Hour

Sometimes, when the golden hour starts immediately after work finishes for the day, one just has to go for a drive around the middle of nowhere in Perthshire. A couple of weeks ago, I stumbled across this scene along the back-road from Forgandenny to Glenfarg and was taken by the light on the undulating lines of the landscape.

I thought it interesting to compare it both in black & white versus colour, although both are a little more strongly processed than my usual taste.


How I Voted…


It’s the orthogonal thoughts that caught my eye, so to speak.

The trees still stand. I mean, the town still stands – apart from one tent in the very middle of the pedestrian area, I saw no more campaigning.


Yes & No placards reside side by side, as do their representatives, chatting together outside the polling station.


The Church is open for business, contemplation, prayer, stillness.


Now to sit back and wait patiently. Quid sit futurum cras, fuge quaerere.

Now, who’s going to clean up all the litter?

How I’ll be Voting

indyref-poll-cardIndividually. I hold the idea of nationality very loosely: it sometimes applies but does not define.  I rate people trying to live their lives far higher than the games of politicians playing nations.

Thoughtfully. Manifestos have been read; factors – economic, political, constitutional, cultural, socially – considered, their importances determined;  a decision has been reached.

Carefully. The way things are looking,  half the population is likely to be upset whatever happens. There will be a need to restore peace.

Independently. The presentation of the campaigns as a bickering of two opposing factions has not been attractive. First the reasoning and decision, then the labelling with political ideology (or preferably not at all).

Proudly. It has not been an easy summer, and getting to the stage of holding this poll-card in my hands has taken considerably more organization than intended.

Humbly. I am glad to have a voice in the running of the land I call home.

Cauldron Falls, West Burton

One of my favoured parts of North Yorkshire’s scenery is the well-known waterfall at West Burton. Always good for a bit of classical landscape photography, exploring both context and closeup (“intimate landscape”); it’s also quite fun to compare with other people’s views of the same location, although I envy anyone who manages to get good light in such a location.

The Uses of Karst Landscape

Karst topography is a landscape formed from the dissolution of soluble rocks such as limestone, dolomite, and gypsum, characterised by underground drainage systems with sinkholes, dolines and caves and other features typical of such erosion.

A few weeks ago, Dad and I went for a drive around North Yorkshire, most particularly to the Butter Tubs – named either because they look like butter-tubs, or for the story that travellers used them to keep tubs of butter cool. They takes the form of a noteworthy (and mildly scary) pattern of crevices in the limestone about 20-25m deep, where the softer limestone rock of Hood Rigg has eroded away. The surrounding landscape affords a pleasant view where the Cliff Beck wends its way between the hills of Thwaite Common and Muker Common.

Plus the area was humourously(?) known as “Cote du Buttertubs” in the 2014 Tour de France that started in Yorkshire.