There are two lines of pylons not too far from where I live. Both originate at a sub-station at Canklow and follow the same path for a few miles before branching apart at Swallownest. The eastern lines head past Rother Valley Country Park and then pace the Trans Pennine Trail south towards Chesterfield. The western lines head up towards Drakehouse and Owlthorpe, then across the golf course at Birley before heading out over the Moss Valley to terminate at Norton near the water tower.
Today’s photos show this second set of lines as they cross the Rother valley through the mist.
From out of the mist Cables of steel cross the land Headed for Norton
Today’s photo is of a stretch of the bypass about a couple of miles from where I live. Although I tend to refer to it as the bypass, it also has a colloquial name of “The Mad Mile”, probably because the stretch featured here is around a mile in length between to two roundabouts at either end and also, I expect, because some drivers feel the need to use it like it’s a racetrack. It used to have two lanes running in each direction without a central reservation, but was altered a few years ago to remove the extra lanes (except where it widens near the roundabouts) and add the chevron area in the middle. I believe, if my knowledge is correct, that the area should only be entered if necessary and it is safe to do so, but I often see drivers using it to overtake a whole section of cars.
The photo was made from the same bridge as the picturein yesterday’s post.
Traffic frustration Leads drivers to foolish acts A law to themselves
The day that this picture was made left me a little disappointed when I awoke. We’d had some bright days with sunshine and clouds in abundance just prior to this but, as usual, I was otherwise engaged and unable to fo make photographs. So, when I say the grey, murky skies I almost took the decision to stay indoors and find something else to do. In the end though, I have myself a gentle mental kicking, pulled on my walking boots, and headed out the house. As it turned out, the flat skies also held some mist – not thick by any means, but enough to add a nice, soft layer of atmosphere to the surroundings.
While the lockdown has restricted me from travelling very far, I decided to make the effort to take a long walk to Shirebrook Valley, which is maybe 2-3 miles from home as the crow flies, but longer when following the routes that us ground-dwellers need to tread. The valley is a wooded area with a brook running through the bottom. While I’ve passed it close-by on countless occasions – the bypsss that leads to the city centre skirts its edge – I’ve only visited on foot once in recent times, and walked across it from one side to the other on occasions when I was a lot younger – it was part of the route if we ever walked to or from my grandparent’s house instead of travelling by car.
This lack of previous exploration meant that I was pleasantly surprised by what I found, with some interesting photgraphic opportunities presenting themselves – particularly a whole series of fallen trees down beside the brook in one area – and definitely a place I plan on revisiting when chance and – particularly – conditions favour it.
The image featured today looks down towards the southern edge of the woodland. Although not really apparent, the busy bypass I mentioned is hidden amongst the misty trees at the top of this shot.
Just a feint light mist Adding mystery to things And pleasing the eye
I’m absolutely shattered this evening. I’m having a bit of a stressful week at work – nothing bad, just something I’m working on that I’ve not done fully before and I’m focussed on trying to make the best job of it that I can, which is taking a bit of a toll. Plus, on the physical side, I completed week seven of Couch to 5K today – the last of the 25-minute runs. Two more weeks to go, and three 28-minute runs for the next week. I always feel a sense of achievement when I complete one of the runs, but I wasn’t in the mood today, and it took effort and willpower to not stop moving.
Another grainy HP5+ photo today.
Geese on the water So serene on the surface Liquid hides effort
A bit of a mystery about today’s photo, which depicts a foggy morning at Rother Valley Country Park. The puzzle is in regards to the graininess of the image. It was shot on Ilford HP5+ rated and develoed for 800asa. I’ve shot HP5+ pushed a stop before (and pushed by much more in fact) and not encountered the amount of grain that is present in this shot (and a few other misty, low-contrast scenes made on the same roll of film). Even more curious is the fact that it’s only a handful of frames affected – most of the images show smooth and unobtrusive grain.
My thoughts are that it could be the way the scanner handles this type of scene (or perhaps my settings). I tried scanning the picture with both Silverfast and Vuescan and received similar results from both. It would be interesting to see if the grain is present on the negative itself, but I don’t have a loupe to use and haven’t bothered trying to use my digital camera and macro lens.
Despite the unexpected and unplanned look of the image, the grain gives it a very pleasing atmosphere, so I’m not disappointed by the result.
Golf ball sized film grain Appearing out of the fog It’s a mystery
Today’s photo is another of those that I really like without really being able to say why – although I think it’s probably the swipe of the red tail-lights across the scene on a jaunty diagonal. The red contrasts nicely with the overall blue tint that the photo has.
I think there’s some sort of law that says you must make a photograph of a petrol station* at night when you shoot some Cinestill 800T. Anyway, here’s mine out of the way. I don’t think it’s the best example by a very long chalk, but I can cross it off the list**. Bonus points for the fog.
One of the photos I posted yesterday showed a footpath between trees. This path is at the edge of the River Rother. Glancing to the right from that location presents the scene shown in today’s image. The dead trees on the far bank make striking shapes, but I’m not sure if there’s a way to get closer to them or not.
Fuji DL-270 Zoom Super & Kodak Colorplus. Grain2Pixel conversion.
These shots were take on the same day as the ones made with the Bronica which I posted about here. These were a bit of an afterthought really – I had the Fuji in my coat pocket and decided to make a few photos. I wasn’t really expecting much for a number of reasons: I had no idea of the provenance of the film; the camera had not been tested by myself; and because the lens is somewhat slow (starting at f/5.6 at the wide end I think), so I doubted I’d have much joy on a dimly lit morning with 200asa film. As it happened, they turned out very well. They maybe don’t stand up to close , pixel-peepy, scrutiny, but otherwise they are nice pictures. The colours from this roll, as I think I mentioned yesterday, are really nice.
Fuji DL-270 Zoom Super & Kodak Colorplus. Grain2Pixel conversion.
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.
