Another of my converted Kodak Gold shots. I almost left this one as colour, but I think the black and white version is better. The colours were pretty muted in any case.
Today was the thing at work that I mentioned a couple of days back – the thing that was causing me stress even though I suspected I was worrying for nothing. And I was right. Everything went absolutely fine. So I’ve spent a few days spending way too much time being concerned about something I needn’t have. Now I need to catch up on the other stuff I didn’t do because I was focused on this. Oh to be me…
Fujica GW690& Kodak Gold (converted to B&W in Lightroom).
Eagle-eyed viewers might recognise this scene (and tree) as the same one that I attempted to photograph on large format film. Recognising that there would be a chance that my 4×5 picture might not work out, I took the opportunity to photograph it with the Olympus Trip 35 I also had with me. In fact, while my large format camera took up the bulk of the gear I was carrying, it was finishing the roll of HP5+ in the Trip that was my primary goal.
A couple of years ago I made plans to visit Bakewell during the autumn in the hopes of catching some nice colour in the trees. Sadly, covid-19 lockdowns put paid to those intentions and it was not until last month that I had chance to bring them to fruition.
While there’s a definite autumnal air to the pictures I made on the day, the colours in the trees were not spectacular. The best of the colour seemed to come early with some vivid tones from the maples, but most other species seemed to remain resolutely green. They’ve gradually turned now and mostly lost their leaves, but they never really lit the place up this year. Oddly, some of the nicest colours are now apparent in the bright yellows of the leaves still remaining on birches, but most of the other trees have now dropped their coats.
However, despite the state of the foliage, it was quite a nice morning weather-wise in Bakewell with enough cloud cover to make for interesting skies until it thickened to produce rain around lunchtime.
The four photos published here today were made soon after arriving in the town and shot as I walked across and beside the River Wye up to Bakewell Bridge. The first shot was made with my 50mm Zenzanon and the rest with the 75mm. The final shot is pretty much the same composition (and taken within a minute or so) of this black and white picture made with my Olympus XA3.
The last shot has a cooler tone to the others. I’m not sure why – probably something in my post-processing though.
Bronica ETRSi, Zenzanon 75mm f/2.8 and Zenzanon 50mm f/2.8 & Fujicolor Pro 400H. Lab developed. Home scanned and converted with Negative Lab Pro.
This picture was made on the same outing where I shot autumnal scenes on a roll of Velvia 50. There was no way that Velvia would have worked for this shot though and I didn’t even attempt it with the F80, instead firing off a frame with my XA3 loaded with some much more amenable Ilford Delta 400.
The corringham windmill is, let’s face it, not a windmill any longer. Originally built in the early 19th century it functioned as a working mill for around a hundred years, ceasing operation in 1908. It attained Grade II listing status in 1985 and in 1993 was converted to an owl house. It has looked pretty much like it does in the picture below for as long as I have known it, and I’ve passed it on many an occasion.
It sits just to the east of the village of Corringham in Lincolnshire, standing close to the A631 road which runs between Gainsborough and Market Rasen (indeed, it runs all the way from the east end of Sheffield, passing through Wickersley, Maltby, Tickhill, and Bawtry before it reaches Gainsborough) and was one of the stretches of road I would travel when visiting Mablethorpe with my grandparents when I was younger. It’s still the route I take when I visit Mablethorpe now – it feels a bit like a pilgrimage of some sort where I follow the route my grandad drove, even though there are alternate routes that are faster.
The windmill at Corringham was one of many landmarks on the journey to Mablethorpe and it fills me with happiness, nostalgia and a touch of melancholy when I see it appear alongside the road. It’s a part of a beloved journey, one that evokes wonderful memories, but also a little sadness that my grandparents are no longer here. I don’t think I ever took the trips to Mablethorpe with my grandparents for granted, but I sometimes wish I could tell them just how much they meant to me.
Nikon F80, Nikkor 28-80mm f/3.5-5.6 D & Kodak Portra 160. Lab developed, home scanned, & converted with Negative Lab Pro.
A few weeks ago I decided to walk to the nearby country park and was greeted by the never-disappointing sight of early morning mist on the surface of the lake.
Nikon F80, Nikkor 28-80mm f/3.5-5.6 D & Kodak Portra 160. Lab developed, home scanned, & converted with Negative Lab Pro.
Two individual frames of the same scene here today. Both shots are opportunistic – I sometimes like to just go out in the car and drive along roads I’ve never travelled in the hopes of spotting something I think will make a good photo. The gate and the crumbling drystone wall in the field behind it were one such random find.
Sometimes such trips can reap dividends, sometimes they turn up dry or (potentially more disappointing) great shots but with nowhere to pull over and take the shot. But even the latter case still records an entry in the memory bank for a possible (better prepared) future visit.
I have a tendency to photograph the same things on multiple occasions, it seems. I suspect I’m not alone in this.
As photographers we can appreciate how a subject can change though time, whether that be over decades of weathering, decay, or environmental change, through the seasons of the year, the time of day, and even minute-by-minute, second-by-second as the light changes.
In May 2022
I’ve never purposely set out (so far, at least) to document such changes to a scene as part of a project, but I do find that things that catch my eye the first time I encounter them will often catch it again on further visits. Today’s post shares two shots of the same house, the photographs made about five and a half years apart on different cameras, different formats, different films, and in different conditions. The viewpoints are different in both, but the central subject remains the same. Maybe I’ll photograph it again on some future visit to this location.
Back in early 2017, shot with my Olympus 35RC on Ilford HP5+
I think that today’s three photos will be the last of the batch from my trip to Monsal Dale (and Asford-in-the-Water). I have a few more images but none that really stand out as worth posting here. For some reason a number of frames from this roll came out a little underexposed – I’m not sure if it was the way the XA3 metered the scenes, or (more likely) that I under-developed them or something. Nonetheless, I’ve managed to get them looking pretty nice (if a bit grainy), I think.
Steel City Snapper photography 