I'm back from my three-week stint working in London and so have less time to pound the keyboard - do I hear a sigh of relief?Today there was a tasty bit of light floating around and I thought a camera outing was in order; I fancied knocking out some images to upload to iStock, the photographic stock agency I shoot for. Pixie wanted to pop to Alcester (I think popping means a trip of less than two hours but I'm awaiting a precise definition) so we set off over the Lench Hills. This range is to the north of our village, rising up from the River Avon; they fall far short of mountain size and are of a gentle, pastoral nature. I like the Lenches; they're understated and very English, in reality more like hillettes, although very demanding to a fat man on a bike.
On the way I clocked that this old pair of milk churns (well screwed-down to the platform to deter the light-fingered) were rather gorgeously lit. I took a few pictures with just the barest hint of grovelling then we set off again (gosh, this is all so spiffingly exciting!) In Alcester the sun was still shining. Rather than retiring to the somewhat eccentric coffee/curtain material shop I patronise, I meandered around, squirting off the odd photo and having a good time. The town has a strong Georgian heritage - that's Georgian as in mad king and not as in former outpost of Russian imperial might.
Several years ago, when BritishTelecom attempted to replace all the traditional phone boxes with perspex and aluminium monstrosities, towns and villages with a bit of history quite rightly protested. As a result some of these red icons were kept on although I doubt they'll be in existence for much longer given the irresistible rise of the mobile phone. These instruments of refined torture are so ubiquitous that it would seem that they're issued at birth. Still the old boxes give you a place to shelter in a heavy rainstorm, particularly if you have a liking for the intimate odour that often pervades them.
I ducked into the church, searching for old monuments to immortalise in digits. As I snapped away I became aware that my shutter seemed to be very fast for the light available. Checking the camera I found it was set to 1000 ISO (I usually use 160). This is far too fast a speed for anything I might want to submit to iStock for sale because of the amount of graininess caused. All my efforts to find something commercial had failed.
Never mind. We stopped off on the way home and I had a very scrummy toasted teacake - there's no disappointment that can't be cured with food.
3 comments:
You never know what's going to be considered spiffingly exciting. My mailbox post used to be propped in just such an old milk can, we can use even the tiniest bit of light since the last two days have been blizzardy, and toasted teacakes are the perfect antidote to almost any ill!
If I could send you some light, Pauline, I would - another glorious spring day here today (very cruel of me!)
if you can't send light, how about toasted teacakes to allay the disappointment?
Post a Comment