I’m jumping back in time by a year or so for today’s photo. I’m on the cusp of scanning and uploading some recent images that will likely form tomorrow’s post, but until I get that done I’ll dip into the archive. Hopefully it’s not a shot I’ve published before (I don’t think it is).
It depicts the Eagle Stone, a large boulder that stands alone above Baslow Edge in the Peak District. A footpath passes closely by and it no doubt gets lots of attention, but on this day at the start of the year, the temperature was cold and the wind was blowing gustily – especially along the nearby crags – and there were not many folks about.
As I approached the stone I saw a small group of people near its base. Then, as I got closer, a man appeared on its top. He first lay on his back and took a selfie, before calling his girlfriend to talk about where he was. Then, after taking a drink and standing to survey his surroundings, he clambered back down the edge of the rock, jumping down the last six feet or so (my less supple physique gave an internal groan as I watched this happen, imagining the damage it might have done were it attempted by me!). The other people with him were, I believe, his parents and a sibling, and I passed a few comments before they moved on and I made some more photos of the rock sans human presence.
As I’ve mentioned before, one of the main tolls the current lockdown is having on me personally is the loss of freedom to roam, and I look forward greatly to the day when I can visit places such as the Eagle Stone once again.
Above Baslow Edge A stone stands stark on the land A challenge is set
A couple of photos today showing two ends of the same bridge. I’d like to say what these brick structures are officially called but Googling didn’t turn anything up other than “parapet” and that doesn’t feel right. The bridge in question is brick-built, but the edges of the deck are metal railings rather than a completely formed of bricks.
Whatever they might be called, I liked the way they looked in the light.
Names of things unknown I know there must be a term But it’s out of reach
I’ve got a couple of days off work, making for a long weekend. I’d decided long in advance that I would use these two extra days to take a walk or, more specifically, a long walk. Due to the current lockdown restrictions, I’m still limited in where and how I can travel, but local exercise is permitted so I decided to go for a hike along the Trans Pennine Trail (TPT) on the stretch that heads south to Chesterfield. My plan was to walk to Renishaw, then head along the road towards Eckington, before cutting through Renishaw Golf Course and looping back to the trail for the return leg.
The weather forecast looked promising, with a hope of some sunshine, but the temperature was still forecast to be low, -1° as I left the house, so I wrapped up warm.
I took the Yashica Mat 124G with me along with three spare rolls of film. I also had a few frames left to shoot with the Canon Sure Shot Supreme that’s been in my coat pocket through the winter, and I took an extra roll of 135 in case I finished the existing one. My light meter and a bottle of water finished off the stuff I carried.
This section of the TPT runs along a disused railway line, crossing a number of bridges (and going beneath a few others), and there’s even the remnants of the disused Killamarsh Central station along the way, complete with the northbound platform and pedestrian footbridge. It also runs alongside the Cuckoo Way for part of it’s length – the Cuckoo Way being the towpath beside the Chesterfield canal. Much of this length of the canal is derelict and clogged with vegetation, but there are still stretches with water, which today was frozen over with a frosting of snow laid on the surface.
To the west of the trail lies the valley where the River Rother snakes it’s way northwards and recent heavy rain has left large swathes of the floodplain submerged in water, again now coated with a layer of ice. One of the footpath spurs down into the valley that I’ve walked before was completely blocked by this floodwater, but I ventured to its edge to make a few photographs.
I managed to shoot shoot two full rolls of 120 through the Yashica (as well as finishing the roll that was already inside when I set out) AND finish the roll of C200 in the Sure Shot. I now have a backlog of four rolls of B&W to develop, plus the roll of 135 colour to send to the lab. You’ll be seeing many of these pictures on the blog shortly (I hope!).
In total I was out of the house for around four hours and (if my phone is to be believed) walked for the best part of nine miles and my legs and feet are now letting me know just how hard they worked… It was a good walk and good to be out of the house in the fresh, bright air for so long. I saw plenty of robins along the TPT, plus a few squirrels re-stocking their winter supplies. I might also have quite a nice picture of a horse as well if I didn’t mess things up somehow.
The only downer was when a roll of film didn’t load properly, necessitating my re-spooling part of it while stood in the middle of a field. I hope I’ve not introduced any light leaks onto the film, but I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.
Thanks to the nature of film photography, I can’t show you any shots for the walk until I get them developed and scanned, but they’ll probably start landing in a week or so as I get through my backlog. So, to illustrate a little what the day was like, here’s an older photo from three years ago made during a walk around Linacre reservoirs.
This photo was taken atop one of the many disused railway bridges in the area. This particular bridge is a solid brick-built structure (with metal railings), but there a few around that are steel-built that have gradually decayed. Probably not to the extent that they’re likely to collapse (and I’m sure that they must be surveyed, if just for the safety of people walking nearby), but probably enough that I wouldn’t want to walk across them. One bridge (of which I have some, yet to be developed, photos ) has been fenced off to prevent people crossing it, but that one’s definitely in a poor state with most of it’s surface having long since disappeared.
Peeling cracked paint Atop the old railway bridge Looks like reptile skin
A shot that might have been better in colour had I had the opportunity. I think the blue sky and the sunlit brown of the dead bracken at the bottom of the frame would have worked nicely together. I still quite like it in mono though. The branches frame the pylon well.
A gap in the trees Framing a nearby pylon Standing in the sun
While the lockdown continues and my movements are still restricted then I’m tending to fall back on some well used subject matter – trees.
Luckily, while I don’t have much in the way of forrests withing walking distance, there are planty of trees around Rother Valley. The variety feels somewhat limited, mostly being birches and other quick growing deciduous types, but there are more than enough shapes amongst them to make plenty of photos. And, as they say, beggars can’t be choosers.
Took a walk today Along the Trans Pennine Trail I made some photos
I was pretty happy when I saw the scan from this negative as I felt sure that I’d missed focus when I made the picture of the tree. I needn’t have worried as it seems spot on. I shot it at f/4 to get some seperation from the background and the tree really pops as a result.
They said it would snow And they were not wrong. It did But less than we feared
I know that some people do “fence Friday” where they publish pictures of fences on, as you might have guessed, Fridays. It’s not something I’ve really felt inclined to do, although I think I was member of a couple of Flickr groups for such themes in the past. Anyway, limited to my blog, and probably for today only, it’s “fence Saturday”. 🙂
The fence in the picture is atop the bridge that I shared a photo of yesterday. It’s a fairly new fence that I think was installed not long before the COVID-19 pandemic hit and I’ve wondered if there were plans to expand the network of footpaths in this area, with the top of the brige included. I suppose it could just be a health-and-safety thing though.
Wooden fence atop A brick-built bridge from times past Perhaps a new route?
Re-visiting locations once more. I didn’t think I’d made a photo of this side of this old disused bridge before, but I have and I posted about it here.
A slippery slope Pool of debris choked water I hope I don’t fall
