Written by The ever-changing moors keep throwing up surprises. It’s why I keep looking for photo opportunities even when it all seems to be a waste of time. After heather’s purple bloom at summer’s end and the autumnal golden glow of fading bracken, the dark brown blanket of hibernating heather that covers higher ground during winter couldn’t be more of a contrast. Things don’t look too pretty then and it takes a covering of snow or frost to get my shutter finger twitching again.
Like most people, I’ve been studying local weather forecasts daily. Unlike most people I’ve sometimes been studying them hourly. That may seem excessive (I fear a touch of OCD is coming on) but it helps me make the most of what fleeting opportunities there are. The contrast between this winter and last winter is remarkable. Last year it was snow, snow and more snow. This year it’s “Snow, what’s that?” Not only has there hardly been a flake of snow but it’s also been very dry, so frost has been hard to come by as well. There is nothing else for it; I have to keep studying weather charts so that I can make the most of any opportunities that come along. On this particular morning I had correctly anticipated some frost, the daybreak colours were a welcome bonus.
Last year Freebrough Hilll was swarming with sledging children, aged from 5 to 95, for several weeks. This year nobody seems to be interested, except for just one weather-obsessed photographer making the most of a short lived frost. Thirty minutes after this picture was taken it had melted away.
A short while later I’m standing at the very edge of a river bank, carefully making sure that I don’t go over the rim. The sun has dropped below the skyline, changing nature’s palette completely, out go golden tints and in come hues of blue, and now it’s beyond cool, it’s cold. Mist is beginning to creep between pale tree trunks and another picture is screaming out to be taken. While paying particular attention to a double-bubble spirit level, because I don’t want this river to run off at a weird angle, all of my concentration was fixed on my camera. That’s why I didn’t see a beaver in the encroaching dusk that had obviously seen me; I just heard a tail slap on water and saw teasing ripples fan out and fade away.
It was sparkles of sunlight dancing off frosted grass that caught my eye here. Once I’ve got a victim in my viewfinder I’ll take whatever I can, ordinary or not. The real selection process takes place back at my computer and generally I’m a frequent user of the delete key. I plucked this picture out of my inbox and quickly worked it up for your viewing here. It looks okay but it is similar to others that I already have, so when I get around to working this up fully it will probably be let go.
This occasional blog is a tasty serving of nature and wildlife photography, with a side dish of my experiences out in the field and lightly seasoned with any random thoughts that occur to me along the way.
