Today marks the thousandth post I’ve made to this blog. I’ve known that it’s been coming for a while now and have spent some time thinking about how I might mark the occasion. However, no matter how much I thought about it I couldn’t think of anything profound. I have a bit of a dislike of anniversaries if I’m honest. They tend to make me uncomfortable. I’m not a person who craves limelight or attention, actively seeking to avoid it in fact.
I suppose having a blog might seem contradictory to this. After all, I’m putting my work out there where it can be seen. The blog was never about that though. It was more about quietly scratching a small mark of my existence on the world. When others find my stuff and like it, then of course that makes me happy, but at the same time I find it hard to take a compliment in the way that others might, instead shuffling my feet and looking awkwardly at the floor while I mutter an embarrassed thanks. Modesty comes easily.
I also wonder about the rationale of numeric signifiers such as this. What does it matter that it’s my thousandth post? Why is yesterday’s post #999 any lesser? What about tomorrow’s? What about the thousandth consecutive post (coming sometime next year all being well)? It seems that there’s something about the human condition, at least the modern, western condition, that places strange virtue on divisibility by ten.
So, anyway, here’s post #1000 for all its significance. It’s divisible by ten you know.
Three autumnal images, all taken almost a month ago now – once again, where does the time go?!
The first two are in an out-of-town industrial estate. I’d spotted them on the way to where we were going and then made my wife wait in the car while I photographed them on our return. I always carry a compact camera in my coat pocket at this time of year for opportunities such as this. I try to carry one in the warmer months too, but having the need to wear a coat gives better opportunity to carry a pocketable camera.
The final photo in today’s post was made on a seperate outing, but was taken on another industrial estate not far from home – I can’t remember if I was out dropping a film off to be developed or visiting the postal sorting office, but it was one of the two.
I have a feeling that my Telemax might have developed a light leak on the lens assembly. It’s displaying minor, but noticeable signs of leakage at one corner of the frame, although easily fixed in Photoshop. It’s similar to, but not as severe as, the leak I had on the Samsung Fino compact I tried a while back. The Telemax is the only camera in my collection (other than my Instax Mini) that I have owned since new – a gift from my parents around 1990-ish. I might have to retire it if the leak persists (although I shan’t get rid of it – I have an attachment to it now).
A couple of photographs serving as a direct follow on from yesterday’s pictures of the flyover – the first taken when I was stood almost beneath it, the second featuring it as a subject.
I wasn’t sure the second would work as it was shot with the sun directly in frame. While there’s a little flaring, the Telemax’s lens has coped admirably though.
Nothing much to say about my photos today – some more shots of the road viaduct that I’ve posted other pictures of recently.
I’ve mostly been glued to CNN for this week for obvious reasons and today has been a good day. I don’t know exactly what the future will bring, but it feels like a corner has been turned. For me, and I think for many, it is a happy day.
Plus it was foggy this morning, and I got to go out and make photos in it. Bonus!
On my walk up the Limb Valley last week, the first place I came across was Whirlowbrook Hall. A grand-looking manor house that was built back in 1906. Originally a family home, its grounds were opened to public access in 1951.
The building is now used as a venue for weddings, conferences, and other events.
I’m not sure why, but for some reason yesterday’s post didn’t appear in the WordPress Reader feed. So if you’re interested is seeing some autumnal woodland photographs, you can find them here.
Today’s post will be shorter, with just a single photo taken from the same roll as yesterdays shots – the last frame on the roll in fact. This tangle of exposed roots beside the footpath caught my eye as I walked back to where I’d parked the car. I think it’s one that would have worked well in black and white too.
I took some leave last week in the hope that I would be able to get out an about capturing some autumn colour before the leaves fell, but this was hampered by the pincer movement of a Tier 3 Covid-19 restriction being placed on our county and my old friend, bad weather. The Tier 3 restrictions prevented me leaving the borders of South Yorkshire, but there are still many, many other places I can go make photos within the boundary. It was the dull, rainy weather that was the main anchor on my activities. While I subscribe to the saying: “There’s no such thing as bad weather, only unsuitable clothing”, my cameras are sadly not weather sealed so, no matter how suitable my atire may be, the use of vulnerable camera gear forms an Achilles heel.
So, when there was a break in the weather on the Wednesday morning, I decided to make the most of it and set off for the Limb Valley, a wooded area to the south-east of the city that rises into the hills at Ringinglow at the edge of the Peak District. I’ve never walked the valley before and only realised it was ther because I saw some photographs a colleague of my wife had posted. Not having any better plans, it seemed a good place to visit.
I decided that I would use the opportunity to test the newly acquired Zenzanon 50mm f/2.8 MC lens that I’d bought to use with my Bronica ETRSi. I had been looking for a wider-angle lens on and off for a while to complement the 75mm f/2.8 that came with the camera. I missed out on one a few weeks ago when I was outbid at the last moment, so when I saw this one with a buy-it-now option for half the price of the one I missed out on I got in there fast.
The lens was described as having had a lot of use, with some loss of paint on the barrel. It also said that there was some slight haze in the centre of the glass. I examined the photos that were shown on the auction and felt happy with the cosmetic condition – as long as it works properly, I don’t mind a few scrapes here and there. The haze wasn’t very apparent in the photos so I decided to take a chance and clicked the button to make the purchase.
Upos arrival, I can’t really find anything to complain about. The cosmetic wear is nothing serious, and I can’t see any sign of the haze at all, and it hasn’t (that I can see, at least) made its presence felt in the photos I’ve made so far.
I also decided to use the outing to try out some more expired film that I’ve recently picked up – a few rolls of Superia 100 in 120 format. It’s a consumer grade film, but there are precious few options for non-professional colour film for medium format now, so I decided I would take a chance on it. The scans from the negatives tended towards a green cast slightly, but I’ve beebn able to sort that out in Photoshop without any real issues and I’m generally happy with the results for the film.
On the whole I’m really happy with the results from this outing. So much so that I moved them up my pile of stuff to scan and publish (I normally do this in a pretty strict chronological order – blame mild OCD or something:)). It means that they get published pretty close to the period of autumn in which ther were produced.
These gates sit at the north-western end of this field where the path leads beneath the arches of the railway viaduct. It allows passage for the herd of cows who roam the fields on either side of the railway line. It also allows passage for walkers.
On this morning the gate was lit by the low, rising sun that was burning through the ground mist. It makes for a semi-rural scene, but the area is surrounded on all sides by human activity, whether the houses and businesses on the hillside to the east, the river and remains of the old marshalling yars to the west, and the flyover to the south, just about visible through the gap in the gates. I don’t mind any of this, plus great light makes the opportunity for good photography regardless of location.
I’ve shot several rolls of film through my Olympus OM-2n now and, overall, I’ve been very happy with the results. I have noticed though, on a number of frames, what appears to be a light leak. It normally appears as a slightly brighter column of light at the right side of the frame, although it only appears on an occasional basis. I’ve also only noticed it when shooting black and white film. It’s possible, I suppose, that the leak is minor and it’s the greater sensitivity of the 400asa film that is allowing it to manifest – it hasn’t, as far as I can see, appeared at all on the rolls of 100asa and 200asa colour film that I’ve shot with the camera.
I’ve looked at the camera and it has seals fitted in the slots where the back closes into the body, but there was a mssing seal where the hinge is, so I’ve replaced that (and also added a little extra bit of seal into the slots in a place where it looked a little thin). I’ve yet to shoot another roll since doing this but hopefully it will resolve the problem.
Today’s photo is possibly affected by the same issue, albeit to a much larger degree than the others. There’s noticeable flaring at the top of the frame, perhaps enhanced by the leak – although much of it is probably down to the bright sunshine that was burning through the morning mist – I had to shoot towards the light to get the illumination on the cobweb. Whatever the fact, in this case I think it makes for a better photograph.
Two more photographs of the flyover that spans the Rother Valley not far from where I live. I posted a couple of medium format shots of the same location about a week ago here.
The first shows a very similar viewpoint as the previously shot image in the linked post, albeit made on a different day and with misty conditions.
The second is taken from the western end of the field where it reaches the river and looking back to the east. I think this one works much better compositionally as the eye is led along the shaft of sunlight from bottom left, up the bridge support, along the curve of the road deck, and then – thanks to a lucky shadow – down into the field and to the electricity pylon. I’m really happy with this one.
Steel City Snapper photography 