Loch Earn is still an idyllic scene despite everyone stopping to take photos in St Fillan’s. Herewith, two obvious views:
Personally, I like this view instead:
People Watching / People Watching
There’s a time-/context-axis running from the far distance – first there was the landscape, then there was Robert Mulholland’s statue Still, then there’s people taking photos of it, then there’s me shooting them. All things considered, a bit “meta”.
A final pair of images from the day’s trip around Loch Rannoch – the first taken at the start as I was setting off, the second toward the end of the day while I was hoping for a glamorous sunset but enjoyed a beautiful subtle sundown instead.
The view of the folly on the Eilean nam Faoileag crannog in Loch Rannoch is available on my landscape photography site, ShinyPhoto.
It’s hard driving around Loch Rannoch – all the stopping and starting makes for lousy mileage. But that’s OK – the scenery is more than worth it.
The first time I came around here, more used to the road network than the geography of reality, I drove beyond the end of the loch (into the setting sun in these photos) up to Rannoch Station, and was surprised to see `Glencoe’ on the adjacent page on the map. No mistake – it’s only about 5 miles directly across Rannoch Moor, and yet by road it’s at least 83 miles and 2.5 hours’ drive.
I was quite pleased to notice that one of my favourite afternoon quick-escape locations is technically just north of the Highland Boundary Fault.
As I drove off the road, a flock of over 20 grouse shot out from the undergrowth and sprinted for dear life in front of me up to the carpark. Walking through the trees, I disturbed a deer grazing on the heather. Sometimes, you just can’t beat a few hours in golden sunlight, staring at mountains, for relaxation.
A friend of mine has regularly suggested that someone seems to dot road-signs saying “Take Photo Here” around the landscape. The view of the Forth Road Bridge from South Queensferry is one location where such a sign would not be out of place, but still, heading home from Edinburgh late one afternoon, it had to be done.
A classic shot – a long exposure black and white image of the Forth Railway Bridge from South Queensferry
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!
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.
Peace and calm: looking along Loch Rannoch towards the setting sun and its reflection.
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.
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.
A few photos from a walk around Portpatrick on a sunny evening, starting with the Royal Navy helicopter practising for Lifeboat Week, taking in some favoured old haunts and seascapes.
Video:
Sometimes, one’s photography takes quite a turn.
A few years ago, I was all interested in large-format landscape work, when a fellow member of the photo-club inadvertently threw the spanner in the works by saying his particular approach gave results that represented how he felt at a given scene. Hang around: how come every LF landscapie I know feels exactly the same way then, if that way is defined by 5×4 format, tripod low on the ground, golden-hours (normally morning, strangely), portrait orientation, near-mid-far, Fuji Velvia film, grad-ND sky and rear-tilt perspective, amongst other things? Having seen that as a clique fashion rather than individual expression, I rejected it and promptly went digital, making a photo a day using overcast dull light to show the shapes of trees in the local woodland realistically.
Last Saturday marked something of a milestone: 4 years of posting a daily photo on Blipfoto. Over time, the idea of forcing a photo a day (especially one as considered and well-processed as I strived to achieve) has become artistically unhealthy and my enthusiasm for the site has waned considerably, so I called it a day.
In some ways, the future looks to be a return to landscape; certainly I intend shooting a lot more of it than I have previously, but I’m intending letting the inspiration drive matters not forcing it by the calendar. I’m hoping to post more often on this blog as well, but using the real camera as well as the mobile, so there’s been a bit of re-branding happening too…
So it was, on Sunday afternoon, with head slightly reeling from the decision, I set off with Dog for an afternoon stroll, with no idea how far or where we’d go except that I wanted it to be a long walk. And it was the longest we’ve been on since moving here, I think – left Portpatrick and walked past the golf course to Port Mora where I usually turn inland and walk through the Dunskey Glen, but this time I continued past Port Kale and the transmission huts (where cables came ashore for monitoring communication during the Troubles in Northern Ireland)…
Transmission huts in Port Kale, outside Portpatrick
…and with a bit of determined plodding along the Southern Upland Way, the next thing we saw was Kilantringan Lighthouse in the distance.
Kilantringan Lighthouse along the Southern Upland Way, black and white with my favoured platinum toning
It took 2.5 hours, so probably 8 miles or thereabouts, given very few photo-stops and some leisurely steep bits.
All in all, an excellent way to spend a Sunday afternoon.
There’s one particular combination of camera settings I keep coming back to, that forms a base for almost all my work. Just in case anyone else is interested:
Great Success: a replanted willow tree budding, in black and white
Circular polarizer filter: for acting as an optical control of local contrast
RAW+JPEG: so I have vast amounts of data to process properly and a reference of what the camera thought of it, which can also be recovered more easily in case of SD-card corruption (rare, but not unknown)
Mode: maybe 90% aperture-priority (auto-ISO, auto-shutter speed), 5% shutter-priority (auto-ISO), 5% manual (because the NEX-7 fixes ISO to 100 by default); of these, unless I’m doing a long exposure, the aperture is the most distinguishing control between closeup and landscape work.
Processing: black & white, so I get to think in terms of shape and form and colour-contrast even if sometimes a scene is processed for colour.
Great Success: a replanted willow tree budding, in colour
Metering: matrix/multi-zone metering, because it’s quite good enough, especially when coupled with a histogram on-screen
Compensation: normally +1/3rd EV for reasons of expose-to-the-right, improving the signal-to-noise ratio.
Shooting: HDR +/-1 EV
The shooting-mode is a new departure; not because I’ve suddenly started “doing HDR” (I’ve been open to that workflow on demand for several years), but rather because the ability to produce 30-40megapixel photos requires multiple input images. By shooting hand-held at high frame-rate I get enough image-data to combine upscaling (using super-resolution) with noise-reduction (using stacking). Full-speed burst-mode on the NEX-7 is a very fast 10fps, which leads to taking bursts of 5-6 images by the time I’ve thought I’ve got 3; the camera enjoys a wide dynamic range so even if the scene contrast doesn’t require HDR per se, there’s only a little difference in quality and using the HDR bracketing restricts the burst to 3 frames at a time.
A little barn: scenery from Steel Riggs on Hadrian’s Wall
Two landscape photos, fresh off the press, taken on Friday evening as the sun had just about set.
Quietness in a frame.
Wouldn’t think they were HDR, would you?