A bit of a mystery about today’s photo, which depicts a foggy morning at Rother Valley Country Park. The puzzle is in regards to the graininess of the image. It was shot on Ilford HP5+ rated and develoed for 800asa. I’ve shot HP5+ pushed a stop before (and pushed by much more in fact) and not encountered the amount of grain that is present in this shot (and a few other misty, low-contrast scenes made on the same roll of film). Even more curious is the fact that it’s only a handful of frames affected – most of the images show smooth and unobtrusive grain.
My thoughts are that it could be the way the scanner handles this type of scene (or perhaps my settings). I tried scanning the picture with both Silverfast and Vuescan and received similar results from both. It would be interesting to see if the grain is present on the negative itself, but I don’t have a loupe to use and haven’t bothered trying to use my digital camera and macro lens.
Despite the unexpected and unplanned look of the image, the grain gives it a very pleasing atmosphere, so I’m not disappointed by the result.
Golf ball sized film grain Appearing out of the fog It’s a mystery
This photo is a potential competition entry under the theme of “shiny”. The vase is quite shiny so it should fit but there’re still a couple of weeks until the deadline yet, so I’ll wait and see if I find anything better before then.
These plastic flowers In a shiny golden vase Sit in the sunlight
Today marked the end of the road (or should that be rails?) for the Beighton Station signal box. It’s demolition has been planned for some months now and, despite campaigns to save it, it was demolished this morning.
My wife and I walked down yesterday afternoon so I could make a few photos while it was still intact, although surrounded by wire fencing. A conversation with one of the contractors on site revealed that the demolition was planned for today at 8am. So, my alarm set for seven, I rose this morning, fed the cat, and drove down to see the event take place.
I needn’t have gotten out of bed so early as not much was happening. There were a lot of contractors on site – a dozen or more at least, and the method of the box’s destruction – a large CAT excavator with a claw attachment – could be seen parked a little way down the railway tracks. The tracks have been closed to rail traffic for the duration of the activity, and the level crossing is only open to foot traffic. As well as the workmen, there were a few locals there to witness the demolition, at least two of whom I discovered had worked in the signal box in the past. There was a bit of excitement when a large metal skip was delivered to take the remains away, but still nothing much was taking place. The box still had the Beighton Station sign affixed which needed to be removed as it has apparently been promised to the local lifestyle centre as a souvenir.
It was quite cold at the location, especially while standing still, so I decided to take advantage of the slow progress and pop back home to grab a quck breakfast before returning. This is where things went off-plan…
Getting back to the car, I turned the key in the ingnition and… nothing. Despite the car having started perfectly an hour or so before, the battery was now almost completely dead. The radio would come on, but the engine wouldn’t turn over at all. My choices were not to either go back to the demolition and sort the car out afterwards, or call the breakdown service to get it back on the road again. As today was Mother’s Day here in the UK and we were planning to go out for something to eat at luchtime – don’t get excited, the lockdown restrictions meant that the day would be celebrated by my wife, our sons, and I treating ourselves to a drive-thru burger while sat in the car. These plans meant that I needed to get the car sorted out as soon as possible. The breakdown company stated that it would be 2-3 hours and that I would get a call twenty minutes before the recovery vehicle arrived. My plans of seeing the demolition of the signal box slipping away, I decided to walk home, get some breakfast and wait for the call.
The walk home took about 10-15 mins and then, liteally a minute after getting there, I received a text saying the breakdown recovery vehicle would be with me in 10 minutes! Not having time to get any breakfast, and thankful that we have two cars, I asked my wife to drive me back down to where the other car was parked. The recovery vehicle arrived at exactly the same time we did, and I crossed the road to speak to the driver. After popping the bonnet, he ran some tests on the car battery which revealed itself to have a faulty cell, necessitating a replacement. The options were to get one fitted there and then, or to be towed to a garage or branch of Halfords to get the work done. Given the paucity of time available to me I decided to let the recovery service replace and fit a new battery as this would get me back on the road straight away.
Soon I was back home and munching a hasty breakfast of granola before heading back to the signal box to see if work had begun (or, knowing my luck, that I had missed the whole thing). When I got there I was pretty much right on time though. While I’d missed the removal of the Beighton Station sign – which I’d hoped to record with a photo – the excavator was only just about to start its work.
I spent the next half-hour making photos of the gradual demolition. There were more people around by this time, many of them making photos or recording video, and I made a couple of dozen images of the scene until the building was down to its lower brick section. My time running short, and the roll of film at an end, I decided to head back home.
I have a busy week ahead, so doubt I’ll get to develop the film until next weekend, but I’ll be sure to post a series of pictures depicting the day’s events once I have the negatives scanned. In the meantime, here’s a picture of the box I made back in November 2016.
Beighton Station box A witness to many years I bid you farewell
Olympus 35RC & Dixons branded 200asa film (expired June 2004). Grain2Pixel conversion.
Although I didn’t spot it at the time of making the photo, the concrete post on the left of this image appears to have a somewhat shocked expression, like I’ve caught it in some sort of compromising incident and it’s now aghast at being photographed. It has a vague look of V.I.N.C.E.N.T, the flying robot from Disney’s 1979 movie, The Black Hole about it.
Shocked looking fencepost It seems strangely animate Caught on camera
This is one of the shelves in my shelving unit. It’s not very tidy or well organised. The truth of the matter is that I have too much stuff for the space I have, or at least I need to have a proper think about how it’s all stored. I guess I could alter the height of the shelves so that the books could be ordered differently – while some are grouped together by author / subject, it’s hardly an effective library cataloguing system. I was also somewhat bothered when I saw that the dust-jacket of From Uncertain to Blue was being distorted bt the book above (a copy of Uncommon Places by Stephen Shore, should you be interested). Don’t worry though, I’ve sorted that out now!. 🙂
I have a couple of other shelving-units / cupboards with shelves in them but a lot of the space in those is filled with stuff that could either be chucked, go on eBay to raise a bit of spare cash, or re-arranged and put elsewhere such as in the loft (some of the stuff I’m reluctant to get rid of is also stuff I don’t look at very often).
The photobooks are going nowhere though!
Disorganised shelf But still full of interest Not a bad problem
A few weeks ago (although I would swear it wasn’t that long ago!) I posted a picture of a structure built of sticks. Today I have another couple of photographs of the same twiggy building plus a photo of another, neighbouring edifice.
I’ve still not come across anyone actually building these things – not that I spend that much of my time wandering through the trees – and I’m still curious as to whether their construction is some sort of organised activity, or just groups of kids making dens? Few of the trees around this area are suitable for treehouses, so perhaps these make an alternative?
The other option is that the second of the three little pigs has decided this would be a good place to build a fortress against the Big Bad Wolf. I didn’t see any wolves, just a few dogs being walked. Nor did I make any attempt to see if I could huff and puff and blow the house in.
Mister Wolf is here So little pig, little pig Please let me come in!
The last shot from the roll of C200 today. Nothing spectacular, just a bunch of excavators behind a wall. You can see their colourful arms peeking up from other places on the road too, but I’m not sure there’s any way to get a closer look. I’m sure there would be interesting photos to be had if so.
There seems to be a stray fire-engine in there with them too!
These excavators Raise their arms like dinosaurs Behind the stone wall
At Renishaw stands this old constabulary and courthouse building. No longer an official building, it is now a private residence, although the courthouse was (and may still be for all I know) a military museum open to the pubic for a while. The overgrown frontages can make it seem like the structure is abandoned though.
The building was built in 1904 and the courthouse bore witness to Sylvia Pankhurst, daughter of the suffragette movement leader Emeline, being charged with seditious speech and fined fifty pounds.
People arrested And children of suffragettes Once passed through this place
Foregoing the law of photography stipulating that petrol stations (or gas stations to my trans-Atlantic friends) should be photographed at night, preferably with mist / fog and maybe using re-spooled motion picture film, here’s one shot during the hours of daylight using cheap consumer-grade film in the shape of Fujifilm’s budget C200 stock.
Most of the petrol stations I see hee in the UK are owned by one of the large franchises such as Shell, BP or Jet, or are owned by supermarket chains. I’m not sure how big an organisation Tate Oil is, but I don’t generally see many of their stations while out and about (or at least when allowed to be out and about in a vehicle in these lockdown times), so it’s a bit of a novelty.
There used to be a whole array of smaller chains around – especially when you went out into the countryside and off the beaten track – but many of these seem to have fallen by the wayside. Many of the stations I see when driving through Lincolnshire on trips to the coast are no longer selling fuel and have become forecourts for car dealerships.
Gas stations at night Can seem to be de rigueur Here’s one in daylight
There are a number of these “Tudor”-style houses that I pass on the way to Rother Valley Country Park. They were built in the 80s. Most of them still look pretty well kept, but I wonder if the particular design involves additional upkeep not required by the more standard brick-fronted properties?
Would Tudor people Have lived in a house like this? Something tells me no
