Continuing my nightime Cinestill 800T shots, here’s an image of a local Starbuck’s branch. The cafe was closing and the staff inside looked like they were performing whatever end of day admin tasks go on in such an establishment. One person is sat to the left of the entrance apparently looking at paperwork, while there’s the blur of another person doing jobs behind the counter.
It’s another photo where I felt somewhat awkward making it as there was a car parked close by with some people sat inside. They didn’t say anything or even show any sign of noticing me, but I had an internal sense of them wondering what on earth I was doing. Maybe I need to just get on with doing stuff and ignore what my internal psychology is wittering on about…
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.
A photo from my first ever roll of Cinestill 800T. I rarely shoot at night, this outing being only the second time I’ve done so (not counting at nightime events using flash). I took my GX7 digital camera in order to meter the shots, setting the ISO to 800 and the aperture to the one I wanted to use on the Bronica. This gave me the approximate shutter speed I needed to use. It was only later that I realised – due to not being able to read the shutter speed dial properly in the dark, that I’d overexposed by a full stop. Thankfully it seems that Cinestill 800T has really good latitude, so all the images pretty much turned out ok.
My family and I refer to the street where this house (and several others similarly decorated with large numbers of lights) as “Christmas Street”. At this time of year you will see people walking down there just to get a look at the lights. It used to be quite unique in the amount of decorations the residents would put on their homes, but in recent years more and more households are going to ever more extravagant lengths to light their houses.
In other news, I’m now on leave for the festive period, so I’m hoping to relax, enjoy Christmas, and (hopefully) make lots of photographs. And my Emulsive Secret Santa gift arrived today, so extra bonus! 🙂
Padlocks denoting couples love hang afixed to the mesh fence over the railway line. It’s hardly the Seine, but the sentiment will still stand. I see these locks when I cross this bridge on occasion and wonder about their origins. Some of them have been there for years and now are gaining more and more rust. Some are engraved. Others have the names of their originators written upon them in ink, and those are fading away in some cases. How many of the couples are still together, I wonder? And do those who didn’t make the distance remember making their mark in this way? Have any been removed by those spurned? Little monuments to people’s lives.
This willow stands at the lake’s edge at Rother Valley Country Park and I’ve photographed it on more than one occasion – there will be more photos of it to come soon, in fact!
It was a bright morning, with a hint of mist on the water and a touch of frost on the ground. I had a few frames left on the roll of HP5+ that I was pushing to 3200asa in my Bronica ETRSi, so I took a walk down to the lake before work.
The sun was low in the sky, peeking under a blanket of high cloud, and casting long shadows across the ground, so I decided to shoot into the light and use the branches of the willow to block the bulk of the glare. A small star of brilliance peeks between the branches.
I was struck by just how much growth has occured in this small marshy area since the last time I walked through during the summer. Back then the area had been landscaped to produce a number of small ponds from the previous patch of marshy reedbeds. It was mostly bare earth with some patches of reeds. Now it is in full growth – so much so that it was a little difficult to spot the path that I’d followed previously. Hopefully it will be a haven for wildlife, especially amphibians.
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.
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.