Inside this issue
With work out of the way I finally had the opportunity to return to my lifetime interest of photography, or rather the photography that enthused me not that which was needed in my role in education. Perhaps it was because I was trained on a Gandolfi or spent many years in pre-DSLR days owning a Bronica that I tend to be drawn towards a square format when making an image.
A buzzard soars overhead, exploiting the thermals. Yesterday a red kite flew down the valley. Perhaps we will be lucky again tomorrow. This was the haunt of curlews and pewits, but without extensive hay meadows, they left. Above all, there is quiet – a peace and stillness that comes from being away from towns and main roads – but essentially created by the rhythms of the countryside.
This rhythm suits my style of photography. To observe, to absorb, to make, and to share with others. I spend my time in fields and woods – I spend ages deliberating the concept of ‘field’. The patterns that they create in the countryside tell us so much about what has gone before, what is happening now.
That parcel of land ‘a field’, increasingly has less to offer. The bareness of a brown, newly cultivated field, the gaudy yellow of oilseed rape, the dull green of a large tract of wheat. My eyes wander – perhaps they are drawn – to the features that make up the boundary. Perhaps they form some manner of contextualisation. A hedge, a fence, a wall, maybe even a brook. For wildlife, this is a rich haven. For the photographer, countless opportunities.