A handful more photos from an afternoon stroll around Birnam Hill – little things that caught my eye. There was a small burn flowing down one of the paths, mostly covered in amazing semi-fractured ice crystals; patterns abound.
Tag Archives: landscape
Birnam Hill: snowy landscape
It’s been a while. A couple of weekends ago I made it out to my favourite afternoon walk location, Duncan’s Hill and Birnam Hill near Dunkeld. The place was beautiful in the snow – all bright whites and glowing blue skies, trees and light.
Have some snow.
Ordinary Landscape
The other day, we had a proponent of “creative landscape photography” presenting at the photographic society. His results were outstanding. I even approved of some of his philosophy, which is saying something.
But … some of his decisions in the execution of that philosophy seemed off.
It’s great to hear someone ignoring the maxim “get it right in camera”, espousing instead the idea of “getting good data at the scene” and affirming the role of post-processing to polish the result instead. I believe strongly in the very same thing myself.
It seems strange that such a philosophy would lead to rejoicing in a camera’s dynamic range – no matter claiming to have recovered 4 stops from the shadows, it would still have been done better by HDR at the scene – where the data comes from photons working in the hardware’s optimum performance zone.
It seems strange that one would criticize such a camera for “not seeing the same way we do”, and go on to say that we need to enhance the impression of depth by using lower contrast in the distance.
The sensor’s response curve is smooth; it will accurately reflect the relative contrast in areas by distance. The only way it would not is if one’s processing were to actively include tonemapping with localized contrast equalization. Left to its own devices, the result will accurately reflect what it was like to be there – one of the greater compliments a landscape photographer could receive.
The problem is not with the landscape; it’s with the way that photography should aspire to relate to the landscape. “Creative” seems to be a euphemism for multiplying and enhancing every aspect, be it strong foreground (make it a yet stronger perspective with a tilt lens), contrasty light (more contrast slider), colour (still more saturation and vibrace to breaking point) and so on. The results create impact but without story or message; visual salt without an underpinning of a particular taste.
Of course we know that “realism” is a phantom. It’s true that no camera will capture quite the same as anyone sees. However, let me introduce a new word: believability, precisely the quality that one could have been there at the same time. That seems like a valid goal.
Have some believable landscape images – they mean a little to me; that suffices.
Snowy Strathearn
The view driving south-west along the A9 just above Forteviot is quite a treat – an open expanse of Strathearn with the river and road flowing through the landscape, bounded on the south by the Ochil hills.
On a snowy winter’s day with passing sunlight, even better!
Herewith, a few photos taken in the course of a few minutes as a filthy dark cloud rolled in.
When it snows…
…it does it properly. A small handful of photos taken late one evening when all around was quiet (apart from some lunatic burning-out the clutch in their Ford to get up the road) and covered in white (and slush) and no light but streetlights…
The remotest glen?
Late November, very late autumn – short days of chilly weather and cold light – I set off for a drive through Glen Lyon. I’d not been there for at least five years; felt like ages. Yet very little changes. The river Lyon still burbles on merrily past the Roman Bridge (that isn’t in any way Roman – it dates from the late 18th century); the mountains were all the same shape, with a light dusting of snow hinting at winter yet to come; the Scots Pine trees were still where I remembered them being (and, more to the point, I’ve since learned that they’re a remnant of the Caledonian Forest). There are, however, yet more potholes in the road from the dam at the end of the Glen up and over to Glen Lochay and someone’s plonked a cattle fence across the way. So it goes.
I had some fun with the Pentax 50mm f/1.8 lens, using it for landscapes (not a usual choice for me) and closeup work, even using a hole drilled in the lens-cap to make it into a pinhole.
Ansel had his “Moonrise, Hernandez, Mexico” moment. On the way back along the glen, I had my “Moonrise, Glen Lyon, Scotland” moment: the dullest of grey fading light, a clear view along between the mountains, dark bluey clouds passing rapidly in the distance and the moon rising beyond. Better yet, there were two boulders – one to climb, from which the other made a nice foreground feature. Click. Or more accurately, cliiiiiick, click, cliiiiiiiiiiiick – the sounds of a long exposure HDR sequence (1s, 0.25s, 4s) to capture the contrast on the scene. Categorically the best photo opportunity of the year.
I drove back over Ben Lawers in the pitch black with the rain turning to sleet.
Seeing the New Year in with style
Over the course of New Year’s Eve I saw several aurora alerts. On checking, it was even visible as a pale grey band running above the neighbours’ houses, so I grabbed a camera and tripod and found a convenient path with a clear view to the north.
This was taken at a minute past midnight – some evidence of fireworks in Crieff with a wonderful aurora arcing over Strathearn.
Ringing-in the New Year with fireworks in Crieff from Auchterarder… with an aurora arching overhead.
Above Comrie
A selection of photos taken around Glen Lednock, mostly up the Melville Monument overlooking Comrie.
This is Highland Boundary Fault territory; the fault itself runs up Glen Artney from the south-west straight through Cultybraggan PoW Camp, on through Comrie and across the A85 to the east.
I was also struck by how vintage Comrie itself looks from afar – a nice ratio of buildings interspersed by trees, with such a low vehicular traffic flow (even on a Saturday afternoon) that one could almost imagine the cars being replaced by carriages.
And no visit to Glen Lednock could be complete without the obvious long-exposure photo of the Wee Cauldron waterfall, of course!
Corrie Fee
It seems like ages ago now – but back in April, a friend took me for a walk up Corrie Fee near Glen Clova. It was the first time I’ve been there, and didn’t know exactly what to expect; the first stretch through the forestry was pleasant (once the weather made its mind up what to fling at us), but when the view opened-out into a massive wide vista at the foot of a corrie, complete with glacial morraine hillocks, it was wonderful.
A Day in Argyll (3): Catching a Ferry
Late in the afternoon I caught a ferry from Oban out to Mull.
Several times in the voyage, the light was just amazing.
Leaving Oban with sunlight and clouds over Kerrera:
An epic vibrant complete double-rainbow seeming to hover just 50yd behind the ferry:
Stunning light approaching Mull:
There’s something relaxing just simply watching the low sunlight reflecting off the bow-waves around the boat:
Detail of soft sunlight reflecting on the sea and bow-waves from the ferry.
A Day in Argyll (1): Landscapes
I spent Saturday travelling, mostly driving, to old stamping ground in Argyll.
There were roadworks holding up proceedings at Cruachan visitor centre, so I stopped to take the obvious photo of the Pass of Brander from the carpark.
The other favourite view is from the Connel Bridge looking toward Ben Cruachan; this time, the mountain was hiding under a rain cloud. The Falls of Lora tidal race below the bridge was flowing pretty fast, with the incoming tide.
Around Inverary
At the start of October, I spent a happy Saturday on a photo-walk organized by a friend around Inverary in Argyll, the group numbering nearly 20 folks.
It was quite a day – over 7 miles walked, folks socialized with, the town and surrounding landscapes investigated.
We started with a trip up the bell-tower and the adjacent All Saints’ Scottish Episcopal Church in the middle of town:
After that, we visited Inverary Jail – quite interesting to get a glimpse of the conditions folks lived in. A friendly guard posed for us:
As we were walking around to the castle for lunch, there was a burst of sunlight over the landscape. A few days prior to the excursion I had discovered an old Pentax film camera in a storage box, and loaded it with film and acquired an extra 50mm prime lens for it, along with an adapter to the Sony NEX-7. So this is Strone Point and the top of Glen Kinglas, on an old 50mm f/1.7 “nifty fifty” Pentax PK-fit lens:
We had lunch in the Inverary Castle tearooms:
Inverary Castle
The afternoon was spent climbing up Dun na Cuaiche. I was impressed to see what an effect the geology has on the area, as (igneous) felsite hills to the north of the town give way to psammite (partially metamorphosed sedimentary) bedrock along the shore of Loch Fyne. The watchtower is a folly – the only thing it looks out over is the castle itself, affording no real protection from anyone else feeling like invading!
Around Birnam Hill: landscape old and new
The last in a small series of photos from Birnam Hill near Dunkeld.
As far as I can tell, the first two photos are taken more or less on the Highland Boundary Fault – a line runs from Stare Dam past Rohallion lodge, up through one quarry and across the A9 through another slate quarry.
Test shots from a favourite walk, playing with the new mobile – DNG RAW files processed in Darktable.
What I did on my holidays
To celebrate my increasing antiquity at the end of August, I spent a happy few days in the Lake District with Mum & Dad.
We stayed in a hotel around Borrowdale, with access to Derwentwater, close to Ashness Bridge. On the second morning there was wonderful mist in the valleys obscuring the view up the lake with just the top of Skiddaw showing.
We spent a happy morning clambering up the Lodore Falls – a steep hillside climb through heather and pine trees.
We visited the Solway Aviation Museum at Carlisle airport, home to an English Electric Lightning (I used to see them flying over Lincolnshire in my very early years), a Phantom and – joy of joys – a Vulcan bomber, XJ823, inside which one could see the cockpit and sit in some of the metal chairs.
And I went flying! Most unexpected – I’d been hoping for a scenic tour but instead got an hour’s flying lesson. As the instructor said, “push the left pedal to turn left”. And the rest was pretty plain sailing – as responsive as a car on a road with perfect camber, crossed with turbulence akin to sailing a boat. We cruised at 2500-3000 feet, skimming along just below the cumulus clouds, from Carlisle across to Bassenthwaite and down Derwentwater to Borrowdale, up over Watendlath Tarn and back around Thirlmere to Carlisle again. A most excellent experience. (Photos by Dad stuck in the back seat – I think he did a good job!)
On the Monday, Dad and I drove around some of our favourite mountain passes and landscape locations in the Lakes: Wastwater with the classic view of Great Gable at the end, round to Hardknott Pass – stop at the Roman Fort of Mediobogdum, admire Eskdale – then carry on up and over Wrynose. The weather was just right – not too much cloud, just cloud shadows on sunny landscape – and my favourite conditions, bright foreground with filthy dark stormy rainclouds in the distance. It was allowed to rain after that.
On the last morning I called in at Mum’s favourite spot on the planet, Friar’s Crag at the end of the road past the jetties out of Keswick.
That was some (long) weekend!
Glen Turret: Lumpy Landscape
Glen Turret is an obvious glacial valley. At the north end of the loch the land is covered with undulating mounds – morraine, formed by the receding glacier.