This is the signal box at Beighton Station, not far from where I live. Although it’s named Beighton Station, no station has been present since the 1950s when passenger services ceased. There have been recent rumblings about building a new terminal suitable for tram-train services however.
The signal-box is currently scheduled for demolition in 2021, much to the displeasure of locals who see it as a landmark, and there are campaigns looking to try and save it.
More photos of the signal box can be found in my blog posts here, here, here, and here.
In direct continuation from yesterday’s post, the four images today were made while crossing Renishaw golf course. The golf course borders the farmland where yesterday’s photographs were made, the two areas split by the River Rother, and a metal-framed footbridge spans it’s flow.
The golf course was, as you might expect, shrouded in the same fog as the farmland. As golf courses have been closed due to the lockdown, no-one was playing – although fog might not be the best conditions for golf anyway I suppose, pandemic or not – and the course was empty of all but the occasionl individuals and small groups out walking in the murk. If you look carefully, you might be able to see some of them in the trees at the other side of the fairway.
As I followed the footpath through the course I noticed these neat rows of fallen leaves, presumably raked by the groundskeeper.
My final shot beore leaving the golf course was this signpost.
More misty morning photographs. All made on the same day (and walk) as the black and white images I’ve posted over the past few days, but this time on a roll of expired Fuji Superia 100. I probably wouldn’t shoot colour film in these conditions as they can tend to feel bereft of colour, but it was all I had to hand after finishing the HP5+. Anyway, although there’s a muted quality to them, there’s still plenty of colour there – especially green.
While the blank grey of the foggy skies is somewhat bland, it’s also very atmospheric. It captures the stillness of these conditions. Quiet that is only broken by the occasional caw of a crow and your footsteps across the ground.
It’s quite easy to imagine that I was in the middle of the countryside, such is the adeptness of fog when it comes to removing distance and detail. In reality I was just a stone’s throw from Renishaw golf course and, beyond that, the town of Eckington. There are plenty of fields and signs of the countryside here, but in reality it’s just a few minutes from busy roads, supermarkets, and local industries. You could easily imagine being out on some lonely heath though.
On my walk up the Limb Valley last week, the first place I came across was Whirlowbrook Hall. A grand-looking manor house that was built back in 1906. Originally a family home, its grounds were opened to public access in 1951.
The building is now used as a venue for weddings, conferences, and other events.
I’m not sure why, but for some reason yesterday’s post didn’t appear in the WordPress Reader feed. So if you’re interested is seeing some autumnal woodland photographs, you can find them here.
Today’s post will be shorter, with just a single photo taken from the same roll as yesterdays shots – the last frame on the roll in fact. This tangle of exposed roots beside the footpath caught my eye as I walked back to where I’d parked the car. I think it’s one that would have worked well in black and white too.
I took some leave last week in the hope that I would be able to get out an about capturing some autumn colour before the leaves fell, but this was hampered by the pincer movement of a Tier 3 Covid-19 restriction being placed on our county and my old friend, bad weather. The Tier 3 restrictions prevented me leaving the borders of South Yorkshire, but there are still many, many other places I can go make photos within the boundary. It was the dull, rainy weather that was the main anchor on my activities. While I subscribe to the saying: “There’s no such thing as bad weather, only unsuitable clothing”, my cameras are sadly not weather sealed so, no matter how suitable my atire may be, the use of vulnerable camera gear forms an Achilles heel.
So, when there was a break in the weather on the Wednesday morning, I decided to make the most of it and set off for the Limb Valley, a wooded area to the south-east of the city that rises into the hills at Ringinglow at the edge of the Peak District. I’ve never walked the valley before and only realised it was ther because I saw some photographs a colleague of my wife had posted. Not having any better plans, it seemed a good place to visit.
I decided that I would use the opportunity to test the newly acquired Zenzanon 50mm f/2.8 MC lens that I’d bought to use with my Bronica ETRSi. I had been looking for a wider-angle lens on and off for a while to complement the 75mm f/2.8 that came with the camera. I missed out on one a few weeks ago when I was outbid at the last moment, so when I saw this one with a buy-it-now option for half the price of the one I missed out on I got in there fast.
The lens was described as having had a lot of use, with some loss of paint on the barrel. It also said that there was some slight haze in the centre of the glass. I examined the photos that were shown on the auction and felt happy with the cosmetic condition – as long as it works properly, I don’t mind a few scrapes here and there. The haze wasn’t very apparent in the photos so I decided to take a chance and clicked the button to make the purchase.
Upos arrival, I can’t really find anything to complain about. The cosmetic wear is nothing serious, and I can’t see any sign of the haze at all, and it hasn’t (that I can see, at least) made its presence felt in the photos I’ve made so far.
I also decided to use the outing to try out some more expired film that I’ve recently picked up – a few rolls of Superia 100 in 120 format. It’s a consumer grade film, but there are precious few options for non-professional colour film for medium format now, so I decided I would take a chance on it. The scans from the negatives tended towards a green cast slightly, but I’ve beebn able to sort that out in Photoshop without any real issues and I’m generally happy with the results for the film.
On the whole I’m really happy with the results from this outing. So much so that I moved them up my pile of stuff to scan and publish (I normally do this in a pretty strict chronological order – blame mild OCD or something:)). It means that they get published pretty close to the period of autumn in which ther were produced.
A bit of a mini image dump of Ektachrome images today, mostly because I’ll get onto something else from tomorrow.
There’s not really any theme to them other than they were all shot in Bakewell. I liked them enough to upload to Flickr, but I’m not sure any of them really elevate above average. Perhaps I should seek a job in the art promotion scene, eh? 🙂
Olympus OM-2n, Zuiko Auto-S 50mm f/1.8 & Kodak Ektachrome 100 EPP (expired at some unknown date).
A couple of photographs today depicting things emblematic of the game of cricket: a pavillion, and a lawn roller for keeping the ground in good condition, particularly the pitch, where the bowling and batting takes place. Both pictures were made in Bakewell, a picturesque market town in the Peak District.
I’d say more about cricket but it bores me to the back teeth (apologies to any cricket fans who might be reading!). I place the origin of this lack of interest at my dad’s feet – he loves cricket, and indeed pretty much any sport for that matter, and I was subjected to it endlessly on television as a young boy. Where this might had nurtured a lifelong love of sport in some, for me it did the complete opposite. That doesn’t mean I can occasionally appreciate it though. And make pictures.
Olympus OM-2n, Zuiko Auto-S 50mm f/1.8 & Kodak Ektachrome 100 EPP (expired at some unknown date).
The title of today’s post isn’t intended as a metaphor for the subject of the photograph, although I suppose it could be. It refers instead to the fact that I was in a cathedral with only a film camera containing 100asa slide film. While I had a nice, fast, f/1.8 lens attached, there were very few places within the building that gave enough light for even a slow exposure. This table of prayer candles was lit by a bright shaft of sunlight however and I took the chance at handholding the camera at 1/30sec. Somehow I managed to avod camera shake and ended up with a nice looking photograph.
Olympus OM-2n, Zuiko Auto-S 50mm f/1.8 & Kodak Ektachrome 100 EPP (expired at some unknown date).
A few weeks ago I posted a couple of photos of pillar boxes (or post boxes if you prefer) that I shot on some Fuji Velvia 100 and which exhibited vividly saturated reds. Today I have a photo of a different pillar box, this one dating from the reign of Queen Victoria – hence the VR insignia on the front. A quick bit of Google research points to this being a VR Penfold model.
Once again, the slide film has delivered vivid reds. While I’ve tweaked the contrast a little which might account for some of the rich colour, I’ve not touched the saturation of vibrancy controls at all. It looks pretty much like this on the original transparency too.
Olympus OM-2n, Zuiko Auto-S 50mm f/1.8 & Kodak Ektachrome 100 EPP (expired at some unknown date).
