Posts by Stephen Street

Tree Hugger

May15
2012 Leave a Comment Written by Stephen Street

Spring is always full of surprises, I mean, how many people expected April to be oh so very wet?  One thing that always seems to surprise me is how far into spring we get before tress come into their own.  I often think of spring happening quickly, but it doesn’t.  It comes in clearly defined stages (snowdrops then primroses then daffodils etc.); steadily at first before building up to a mad rush in May.  Why the rush?  Well, that’s typically when fresh and almost luminous leaves really begin to burst forth, and greedily steal light from anything growing below them.

At this point my inner tree hugger, which has patiently lain dormant through the depths of winter, bursts free.  Add a touch of nice light and I’m high as a kite and at risk of an endorphin overdose.

The old compositional adage of ‘keep it simple’ has stood the test of time and is well worth remembering, but doesn’t need to be slavishly followed.  When it comes to woodlands I often go for the exact opposite, I try to fill the frame with detail.  I love scrutinising the infinite patterns and picking out tiny but fascinating elements.  I get as much pleasure exploring these subjects now as I did when using a kaleidoscope as a child.  But that’s just me.

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Mist on the Moor

May01
2012 Leave a Comment Written by Stephen Street

Three minutes a day.  It doesn’t sound much does it?  Just long enough to boil an egg. After a (too) long period of damp dull mornings a clear one took me by surprise, and made me realise how much sunrise had crept forward and reminded me that it will continue to do so, at about three minutes a day.  This means that we are now into the early starts time of the year; not yet into the totally ridiculously early starts, but that’s coming, at the rate of about one boiled egg a day.

Fortunately I’m blessed with being a natural early riser and as soon as it begins to get light, I wake up.  Despite a weather forecast of early morning cloud and rain (again) I thought I’d have a quick look out to check as you never know.  Mist, glorious mist!  And the sun hadn’t quite popped its head over the horizon.  I almost fell down the stairs in my rush to get out.

I love mist, what photographer doesn’t?  But it can be difficult to make the most of, particularly when photographing wildlife.  If I’m taking a landscape it’s much easier to make something of it, mist becomes part of the scene.  When photographing a particular subject in mist I find that if the distance is too short there may as well be no mist at all.  Alternatively, if it’s too long the subject disappears into a featureless mush.

That’s where the real challenge lies, finding the point where I can make the most of mist’s unique softness.  (A softness that I don’t believe can be faithfully replicated by incorrect focus, Photoshop induced blur or – despite what some photo magazines say – breathing on the front element of your lens.)  It’s subtle and it’s lovely.

Here is a grouse that I judged to be at about the right distance for mist induced softening to be evident but still retaining enough detail to be interesting to look at.  The golden backlighting helps as well.  I’ll admit that it’s not a classic shot, instead it shows this bird nicely in it’s habitat of rough grass and heather.  But I liked what I saw and as far as I’m concerned, that alone was reason enough for me to take this picture.

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Boring Starlings

Apr21
2012 Leave a Comment Written by Stephen Street

I suppose we all have things that we love to dump our hate on – spiders and snakes seem to be perennial favourites in this regard.  In the world of garden birds starlings come under all manner of criticism, just for being starlings and over the years I’ve heard them being described as horribly noisy and boring, black birds time and time again.  But I disagree.  I don’t think that starlings are either boring or black.

When flying to roost during winter months I think starlings put on a show that is second to none.  And considering how often I see photographs of starling murmurations set against a colourful evening sky do well in photography competitions, I seem to be thinking along the same lines as seasoned judges.

In flight thousands of starlings move as one, yet on the ground one bird can behave as if it is a flock in itself.   Table manners is a totally alien concept to starlings and it only takes two birds at a feeder for a food fight to kick off, which makes them incredibly interesting to watch (and surprisingly difficult to photograph).  Boring is a word that I would never use to describe starlings.

And as for being black – well, that’s a common misconception.  They are iridescent.  This means that if you can catch a view of them in good light, between the heavy and slow moving spring showers that we’ve been experiencing lately, a whole range of colours will shine out.  Anyone who has seen this will never again casually dismiss starlings as being black birds.

But yes, I do agree that they can be incredibly noisy.  In fact that can often be an understatement and I am never in any doubt as to when a brat-pack of starlings have dropped in for a snack.

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First of the Year

Mar31
2012 Leave a Comment Written by Stephen Street

Some mornings are just special.  The first morning of the year that feels as if spring has truly arrived is one of them.  A few days ago was such a morning, a morning that refreshes my soul and recharges my batteries.

Mist was lying low and clinging to the valley bottoms tighter than a shipwrecked sailor clings to a life ring.  It wasn’t thick enough to filter early morning sunlight into a warm glow, but it was thick enough to soften the contrast that I expected to have to deal with immediately the sun cleared surrounding hills, until it burnt off that is.  These are the kind of mornings that I love and it’s a privilege to be out at sunrise watching such a day come alive.

I have always found red-legged partridges to be shy birds.  They usually secret themselves away under cover, or dash off at the first sign of any interest from me, so hopefully you will understand when I say that I was surprised to spot one sitting proud on top of a clump of heather.  Basking in spring sunshine he was set against what would otherwise have been a very confusing background, but was in fact completely washed out to a pleasing pale blue-grey, thanks to the mist.

After carefully approaching as close as I dare I spent some time rattling off a few frames.  I liked what I saw and tried out various compositions as a snipe was drumming overhead (I couldn’t see him – he was coming at me out of the sun).  Suddenly the partridge disappeared from view.  Arrgghh!  I’ve spooked it.

Instead of running away as expected, he came even closer, walked in front of me, hopped up onto a towering wall and started calling.  So naturally, I gave him another go until he finally turned around and walked away along the wall.


This week we’ve had a nice run of spring mornings that have been a pleasure to experience.  But, as I said, the first of the year is always special.

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Critical Critique

Mar21
2012 Leave a Comment Written by Stephen Street

Photographs are nothing more than either an ink stained sheet of paper or a string of 1’s and 0’s in a digital file.  Well, that’s one point of view.  A more significant view is that they are a bridge between the photographer’s vision and skill, and an audience’s hearts and minds.  And every single member of that audience may get a completely different impression.  This is the tightrope we photographers walk, as we pour our selves into creating the best photographs that we can.

In my experience the most successful photographers generally have a number of defining characteristics, but having a fragile ego is not one of them.  At this point I recall something I read somewhere, sometime, “The intention of the artist does not dictate the reaction of the audience”.   All we can do is offer up our meagre efforts, hope for the best and weather any criticisms that come our way.

Naturally we want to try and skew the Bell Curve of our audience’s reception in our favour, so it helps to have a touchstone for reference, someone we can turn to for an honest opinion.  I’m married to mine. It’s good to get critical input away from the public glare, even if I don’t always like what I hear.  What makes my wife’s input so valuable is that she is not a photographer and has no desire at all to be one.  Hers is a real-world appraisal. The differences in our points of view can be interesting in themselves.

When she first saw me messing around with the photograph that opened this post I described it as artistic; she dismissed it with a simple “It’s blurred”.

Here are a few more examples of my offerings and her valued critiques:
“It’s in its habitat” – “It’s too small”.
“It’s nature in the raw” – “It’s viscous and horrible to look at”.
“It’s low key” – “It’s too dark and I can’t see it.”
“It’s high key” – “It looks washed out”.
And finally, “It’s boring and chocolate boxy” – “It’s lovely”.

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Smiler

Mar11
2012 Leave a Comment Written by Stephen Street

I was coming to the end of a ‘beach for daybreak’ outing at Runswick Bay and I started to carefully pick my way back along the beach below a cliff face.  These cliffs, where the North York Moors literally fall into the sea, are fragile, very fragile.  After a good storm fossil hunters come here especially to see what new treasures have been unearthed.  As for me, well, I was just trying to avoid being hit by one of the frequent cascades of shale slivers tinkling down the cliff face.

I’d stopped to take a documentary shot of boldly coloured rock where iron ore is being leached out by ground water.  It was the almost luminescent colours that caught my eye.  I’ll often take pictures of unusual things like this; I’ve lost count of the number of times ‘she who must be obeyed’ will be working on some document or other and call out ‘have you got any photographs that show …… (insert obscure subject as required)?  One day this picture may well come to my rescue.

Afterwards I began carefully picking my way over a mass of large boulders when, lying underneath them, I saw an amazing lump of rock.  It was unlike anything that I’d seen before.  An intrusion of pale rock was fixed between two layers of bright pink sandstone.  It looked to me just like a toothy grin frozen in stone.

I have no idea where it had come from but I knew that there was one photograph that I had to take.  Sorry.

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Myth of the Perfect Camera

Mar01
2012 Leave a Comment Written by Stephen Street

We photographers are a strange bunch.  We spend our days squinting through one eye with our faces squashed up against an electronics filled box.  Possibly because of this enforced intimacy our cameras ultimately become our friends.  Sometimes even more than that; they become an integral part of our identity, but hopefully not quite to the same extent as dogs and their owners, who are said to begin to look alike after time (here is one blogger’s sardonic take on what the camera that you own says about you).

Try and picture this scene from, hmm, it must be about ten years ago.  Chilled by frigid, pre-sunrise air I’m shuffling my feet to keep warm at the edge of a lake at Bosque del Apache nature reserve in New Mexico, waiting.  Before me in the twilight are up to ten thousand honking snow geese.  The end of their overnight roost will soon be noisily announced as they lift of en masse and I’m eagerly looking forward to experiencing this spectacle of nature.

I wasn’t the only one.  Snow geese in Bosque are popular with photographers and despite the early hour a small but steadily growing crowd had formed.  Not far away from me a couple of guys (and it always seems to be guys) were verbally sparring by deriding each others’ camera.  It was mildly amusing for a few seconds, tiring after a few minutes and extremely tedious after twenty.  Their conversation could be distilled to; “Canon”, “Nikon”, “Canon”, “Nikon”, “Canon”, “Nikon”, repeat ad nauseam (with a healthy emphasis on the nauseam bit).

How does the old adage go?  “The more things change, the more they stay the same”.  The last time I was out working close to other photographers the same Canon – Nikon conversation took place.  I’ve seen people take such ‘discussions’ to extremes, where their throbbing neck veins resemble a conga eel and their face turns the colour of beetroot.  The photographer-camera bond can grow so strong that defending it against the slightest criticism can quickly become a matter of pride, honour and principle.  That’s right, the same three things that have probably started more fights than anything else.

But does it really matter?

If you use a camera that is different to mine, why should that concern me?  Likewise, if I use a camera that is different to yours, why should that concern you, particularly if we are both realising our photographic aims to our own personal satisfaction.

But what if you truly believe that your fresh-from-the-factory DSLR is the greatest camera that will ever be produced and is perfect in every way?  Well then, may I respectfully suggest that you read less of the brochure and wait for reviews of the model that will supersede it, in which will be highlighted all of your perfect camera’s shortcoming as the new kid on the block is showered with endless praise.  At least until that too is superseded in due course.

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A Touch of Frost

Feb21
2012 Leave a Comment Written by Stephen Street

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.

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Flashbacks

Feb11
2012 Leave a Comment Written by Stephen Street

So there I am, digging through my archives and picking our some pictures for a project that I’m working on.  These are pictures that I haven’t given any thought to for some time, years in fact and bam!  I’m back there in an instant.  Memories rush in and once again I can feel cool evening air nipping at my ear lobes, while an early autumn musk fills my nostrils.  In my mind’s eye I can picture myself adjusting the position and height of my tripod, and looking down to make sure I’m not going to kneel on any sharp stones before getting down, dirty, and two damp knees.

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.

Photography keeps doing this to me and I love it.

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Go To

Feb01
2012 2 Comments Written by Stephen Street

Most photographers that have been playing at this game for a while have at least one subject that they will return to repeatedly.  For some it may be an ongoing garden bird project, for others it may be a local fox den, or then again, it could be a wider brief such as woodland abstracts etc.

Surrounded as I am by intensely managed shooting estates, one of my ‘go to’ subjects is the somewhat predictable red grouse.  Grouse are a good subject for me as they are readily available, present all year round and can be seen whatever the weather (gale force winds excepted – nothing seems to enjoy gale force winds, including this photographer ).  Over the years I’ve built up quite a library of grouse photographs so I am now a little fussy about what I want to take.  That’s one of the beauties of a go to subject, it gives you a real chance, no, it forces you, to go beyond the obvious.

Every grouse I see draws my eye, but I don’t necessarily try to photograph it.  There has to be something special to make me reach for my camera (it used to be a reflex action – “There’s a grouse!” click, click, click; “there’s another one!” click, click, click. – but now I’m a little more considered in my approach).

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.

Thirty minutes and one mile later I came across this scene.  It was a much more difficult photograph to take, but it is unusual in its setting and completely different in character to the previous shot.  This alone means that in my book it will be worth a second look, and when I get around to working it up properly I wouldn’t be at all surprised to find that it’s a keeper.  Unless I come up with something similar, but better, the next time I go to photograph red grouse.

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