Cluster Gathering at Colosseum

I had hoped to use this meeting to attempt link CamRanger to the big screen after we had listened to the guest speaker, but it all went wrong from the start as Peter and I managed to arrive late, so missed the start of Syd Nadim’s  interesting discussion of various of their incentive ideas.

However we did not miss a minute of the fascinating story from Tom Evans about the family of products that he is steadily bringing to market, and the various interesting hurdles he had to leap to reach his goal after leaving his agency and gathered several experts together to make his dream into reality, and the skills he himself had to acquire as he successfully used KickStarter to reach, and exceed, his funding target.

The result is the group of products that can be seen at: http://www.bleepbleeps.com

After the talk we gathered around in groups to discuss what we had listened to and partook of pizzas and drinks and Claire Wilson tried to help me set up her laptop to attempt to bring the pictures that I was planning to take now we were in the networking stage, but it was not to be. However, it did demonstrate Claire’s patience and tenacity for which I was very grateful, but it curtailed the number of images that I managed to capture, so it was at least fortuitous that the summer evening offered another opportunity to capture some of the surroundings, and the cloud formations.

My Toe Hurts, Betty!

I set off for me, very early, and arrived on the banks of Marsworth Reservoir around a quarter past seven, and sat down to wait with my 5D MkIII and 100-400mm lens on a monopod. I was hoping to catch sight of a kingfisher, but the first hour passed with a visit by a curious Mallard male and countless midges. The air was filled with birdsong, but the owners of the songs were unknown to me beyond the distant call of the cuckoo and the passing calls of magpies, and the nasal moans of pigeons.

I did hear several splashes and plops of fish jumping in a pool beyond the fallen tree branches, but again the name of the species was not part of my vocabulary, and the angle and distance precluded my getting shots that might help me find the answer from an angler – I was amazed by the size of some of their number and just how many were swimming in that small area. A heron passed overhead at one time, but with the camera on the monopod, there was no chance of my getting in a shot.

It was while waiting for the main attraction that a disembodied voice called out: "Do you hear the call of the wood pigeons?" At first I assumed it was someone calling to a nearby friend, but when the question was repeated I realised it was aimed at me, I replied "Yes" and a man on the far bank in a red or orange shirt glimpsed through the branches and yellow flags by the bank said: "It sounds like 'My toe hurts, Betty!' I chuckled and said yes it does, and asked whether he had ever caught sight of a cuckoo? But my question remains unanswered as by then he had disappeared.

With those words repeating in my head I continued my wait for the equally elusive kingfisher. Before I continued in earnest I decided I would take a swig from my flask of coffee and had no sooner packed it back away having quenched my thirst, that coming close to two hours my patience was rewarded; a kingfisher alighted on a branch to my left and I took a few shots, it was less than a minute later that it dived and successfully caught a tiny morsel, moving centre stage to swallow it with much head shaking. Before departing he moved to another branch and dived again, but I was disappointed in the small size of its catch and how shapeless it was in its beak. He must have thought the same as he departed soon after.

I did stay on, but apart from another pair of Mallard, a lone coot, numerous pigeons, a few crows and spells of melodious but unknown birdsong, I saw no more kingfishers and four hours astride an uncomfortable log proved as much as I could endure, so I returned to the towpath of the Grand Union Canal and wandered to Tringford reservoir and its anglers, hoping to meet up with its Water Bailliff, but he was not there; I will catch up with him later.

Cambridge Letters

Catherine invited me to Cambridge for the Saturday, and I arrived the night before, so we had some time together, rather than me rush on the day, and we would visit Cambridge for a stroll around the City Centre. We parked near Newnham and walked through from there as the sun began to break through and dry the grass from the earlier showers in the morning.

Catherine had one of my cameras, and I another, and she challenged me to capture images that spelled our names, I felt she did somewhat cheat as she chose Katy, whereas, well – see whether they become obvious. Trying to chat, window shop, not bump into the people who thronged the streets and capture the letters was an interesting task, and whilst trying for a striking ‘D’, I was challenged by a charming and attractive girl who inquired what precisely was I doing?

It turns out she was the manager of the enticing sweet shop outside which I was about to photograph the bootscraper set into the base of the wall to the left of the shop entrance. I then explained she need have no fear, I was not from the council photographing the structure as she seemed to be wondering, but more prosaically trying to photograph the letters of my name, and had spotted an excellent ‘D’. I then told her I was also needing an ‘I’ and she kindly provided me with another letter! However, I could not leave having only taken a tightly cropped image of her eye, so I include the whole face by way of thanking her for being such a good sport, and I also found a ‘K’ inside and duly bought one of my girls a lollipop, and left with a smile, and three more letters! I was a happy KID! I wonder how Catherine got along? I have yet to see her shots.

I committed a heinous crime later, photographing policemen, who were keeping a watchful eye on a Badger Cull demonstration in the Market square. Altogether the day’s photography covered a wide range of images that caught my eye and provided me some amusing family shots of my twin grandchildren as we enjoyed ourselves in the park where we chose to relax after our snack lunch before Catherine and the twins set off to watch the film Maleficent, and I headed for home.

Taking a Canalside Wander from Slapton

I decided to take a wander along the towpath from Slapton Lock, heading past the Lock Cottage and down the slope, taking a look at bees hard at work amongst the cottage's blooms and beyond. It was whilst I was concentrating upon bees, that I spotted the minutest daytime moth alight on a nearby leaf that had a wingspan that was barely two thirds of a centimetre across.

The clouds very occasionally parted to show shafts of sunlight on the boats, and it was close, even occasionally looking as if a shower might come.

I was passed by cyclists and walkers as I wandered by anglers, separated by around fifty to a hundred yards; some would turn and acknowledge me and I would enquire as to their luck, and on two occasions as I passed I would look back and see a taut rod curved under the pull of the fish versus the angler, and therefore twice I was able to capture that moment as the fish was carefully coaxed towards the bank; one was a Perch, the other a Bream, and yet another a Common Carp, but it was already landed, and I was asked could I take a shot of the catch in the man's hands using his iPhone. Only too happy to oblige, I forgot to try to record the accomplishment for myself, but it was a fine strong fish that a few moments later was free to chance its luck against the fisherman another day.

I continued my stroll in search of the small glimpses of Nature's beauty as couples took their narrowboats through the locks, and I observed that in most cases I observed it was the fairer sex that worked the locks as their menfolk took the tiller and the easy life, so Chauvinism lives on, along the Grand Union Canal! I did however try to redress the balance by coming to the rescue of one lady who had sought her partner's help in vain, and was warmly thanked.

As I turned around and returned to the bridge by Slapton Lock a few desultory raindrops fell and returning home a few more splashed the screen, but it never developed into a shower.