Goodwood – The Festival of Speed 2015

Since there are several Galleries related to this story,

the headline text only leads to the Cars and Trucks, so

follow the other links here for more galleries from the day

Installation & Style et Luxe

Cars and Trucks

1911 Fiat S76

Bikes

Red Arrows

Eurofighter

Statics

I count myself very fortunate in being able to visit Goodwood twice a year to photograph some of the moments of my day at the Festival of Speed and the Revival Meeting. This year I was twice blest, for my colleague Martin Evening helped Lord March with some technical guidance and was offered two tickets for the Festival; his wife was not interested in joining him so offered me the chance to join him.

Sadly on the morning he found himself unable to go due to having suffered three consecutive sleepless nights, so my journey was due to be unaccompanied, as at six o’clock in the morning I was unable to contact my daughters or other colleagues to offer them the second ticket. Fortunately I did have the opportunity to let Lord March know and he asked me to convey his best wishes and he could rest assured he could come along to the Revival in September.

But I am getting ahead of myself – I made my way to the Saturday meeting unaccompanied, as my guest, my younger daughter was using her ticket and coming down separately with her young family. I made good time from Bedfordshire arriving before eight o’clock, and it was truly Glorious Goodwood (even though that term is reserved for the horse racing activities). Normally my first port of call was to the SuperCars Paddock, but this location was now the Brooklands Paddock, which was fortuitous, because my friend Simon Diffey was due to race a Connaught which was parked here. I caught up with him later. 

I always look forward to seeing the installation in front of the house as it is always memorable and makes for fine images as the light falling on it changes throughout the day, and today was no exception – it must be very challenging to dream up a new and exciting work each year.

Knowing that trekking back to the car takes too long, choosing which lenses to bring is not easy, but I reckoned that I had to have a general purpose wideangle zoom, for shots of individual cars in the Paddocks or otherwise close by, but for action shots the most effective would likely be the 100-400mm on the 7D MkII, so for the former I chose the 24-105mm on the 5D MkIII. The other prerequisites were spare batteries and cards. Shooting entirely in raw means I load up both bodies with 32GB Cards as these are the fastest ones I have, and means changing cards is kept to a minimum.

Stationed for some of the time in the Sponsors’ Enclosure at the closest to the first serious corner meant that I rarely needed to use the full extent of the long lens, and so for the Sunday I decided I would try to get away with bringing the 70-200mm. Later in the day when the Typhoon was aloft the 400mm end of the telephoto was essential. I must be a glutton for punishment, because to to take so many images in raw format means I will be sitting in front of a computer post processing in some of the hottest days of the summer! But when I look back at what I have taken I am more than satisfied, and I hope those viewing my galleries enjoy sharing my day in pictures.

I met with some very nice people, some of whom I hope I might meet again, one of whom was the designer of a previous Kenny Roberts bike and I hope he likes the shots I took of it as it went up the hill.

An AoP Evening with Ray Massey

The Association of Photographers put on an evening in the converted place of worship that is Church Studios, with Ray Massey, a leading advertising photographer who talked about how he became a photographer and how the landscape has changed over time, and how his earliest techniques influenced and moulded the way he works to this day.

The audience of over thirty souls listened and watched intently, and one of the number stood up at the end to say how he felt many gathered here might be pleased to have taken maybe just one or two such images over their careers, he was astonished that there were so many and varied and of such a high standard of creativity that he had done. From the applause at the end of the demonstration, the audience agreed with his sentiment.

Coming from out of town, and not being familiar with the environs of Camden Park Road, I made sure that I would be on time, by ensuring I arrived well before the appointed hour, which gave me the time to walk around and ‘capture’ (a word that is anathema to Ray!) some images from around the neighbourhood. It was during this time that I came across a man called Rem whom I met when I caught his eye as he was resting on a park bench smoking. He was trying to learn where he might find places of interest in the area. In the course of our conversation I suggested he could do worse than go to the meeting I was later to attend and informed him it would cost a tenner – he seemed unfazed by this, and I wondered whether he would be there – he was!

I took a handful of pictures in the somewhat variable light before the evening show, and later when leaving I was able to take advantage of the very different lighting that prevailed on my return to Kentish Town Station. I had wondered whether I should take my camera with me, but I feel I made the right decision, which was not to break the habit of a lifetime of having a camera with me at every opportunity! I hope I have captured (that word again!) the essence of my afternoon and evening.

Fortuitous Visit from Colin Bowles…

A friend of longstanding and retired fellow photographer Colin Bowles needed to vacate his own house so that a group of Keep Fit Ladies could spend the morning in discussion with Jennie his wife, so asked whether he might visit me in my new home. Naturally I was delighted and as I put down the phone and unlocked the front door, I spotted the arrival of a strange wheeled contraption on the opposite pavement surrounded by several Amey workmen. I decided to investigate.

I crossed the road and enquired what this device was, and on learning of its purpose, realised here was a heaven-sent opportunity to photograph these men as they put the machine to work. I asked whether they had any objection to my photographing them at work and they were more than happy, so before they had a chance to start I headed back at a run to grab my camera and get to work. I reckoned Colin would take just over half-an-hour to come from Stopsley, and I was sure he would fully understand my grabbing the bull by the horns and making the most of the chance I was being offered. Fortunately for me, he took longer than that and in fact I lost no more than five minutes of our time together to take the last few shots to complete the story from start to finish, and part of that time Colin was nursing his ankle which had been very painful from the moment he awoke.

I will let the gallery of pictures tell their own story as I watched the old lamp standard have its wiring and fuse system replaced before the contraption was brought to bear to support the stressed concrete pole whilst it was cut through by a Stihl grinder, for that then to be brought safely to the ground where it was further cut into manageable lengths to be carried to their van, and the erection of the new far lighter replacement with its swivel joint and its signage applied. Such opportunities present themselves very infrequently and since I really need paying work, here was the chance to show my mettle and see whether I can win some work on the strength of the quality of the work and the speed with which I can get the gallery up on my blog.

I handed out some of my newly-addressed business cards and learned from one of Amey’s personnel who had been handed my card that the designer or manufacturer of these fittings was based in nearby Kempston, and he, Andy White from Amey, gave me his card and the name of the engineer, Frank Hardy of Hardy Engineering. I look forward to hearing whether anything comes of this chance encounter. I am hoping Colin can visit more often if he can bring me luck like this!

Brogborough – a Therapeutic Visit

My priorities since the house in Caddington was definitely finally selling and I could rest assured that the house for which I had put in an offer was definitely going to become my new home, have been exclusively concentrated upon ensuring that the move was made as efficiently as possible without the distraction of my involvement in photography, I made just one concession, because the event had been planned long before the sale, and that was to relax in the company of fellow photographer Geoff Dann by visiting  Clerkenwell during its week of Design celebrations. Today I had two electricians helping to transform my new third bedroom into an office to house the essential electrical paraphernalia that are now the essential tools of the digital photographer.

I spent the early part of the day seeing that what I planned was capable of being achieved, and answering any questions that arose, and trying to ensure that the mountain range of boxes somehow allowed access to those areas that needed twin and switched sockets where either none existed previously or were single and unswitched, the office needed a minimum of twenty four, and these were to come mounted on a board on a separate circuit.

The weather was fine with a promise of sunshine and hopefully a breeze, so once I knew all was underway, I decided I needed therapy and the conditions seemed to promise a remedy just a short cycle ride away – the lake at Brogborough, and the undoubted windsurfing fraternity eager to be on the water, so I gathered my gear together and strapped it in the basket newly-mounted on my push-bike and set off. On arrival the medicine was there in abundance as were the windsurfers, and I took a long draught  as I set to mounting the EOS7D MkII with the Tamron 150-600mm onto to the gimbal head atop the newly-purchased Giottos carbon fibre tripod. I sat down right by the water’s edge and gave myself just over an hour to capture a few shots to break my self-imposed fast and get my ‘fix’.

The wind favoured those who enjoyed jumping and so I imbibed with relish when the surfer’s desire matched my own, whilst there was a lull in the human activity on the lake, I turned my lens on a young family of ducks who with their mother in attendance braved the turbulent waters close to the shore where I was ensconced. Little did I know at this stage how that family were to become the unwitting stars of a small drama played out upon the shoreline. I turned my lens back upon the main scene and spotted one man who seemed intent upon jumping and managed to capture at least something of the action.

The wind dropped and several surfers returned to shore amongst them the hero whose small jump I had witnessed and I let him know by thanking him for his display. He came over and said that there seemed to be a small amount of air beneath the board. The wind picked up and the sun joined in and he took to the water again, and this time there was no doubt about there being air beneath, for which I was very grateful.

Soon after this we spotted three lone ducklings braving the increasing swell and even finding themselves ignominiously being flung ashore – the drake was nowhere to be seen and several surfers then decided this was a situation that could not be endured and a plastic bin was commandeered to attempt to scoop them from the maelstrom, and return them to the family group, the first two were soon scrabbling away safely in their makeshift lifeboat as their human saviour attempted to scoop their sibling to join them to be returned to their mother. However, that was not to be, he or she, feared these great human warriors were out for sport and he/she was not in the mood for playing their game, and for the next several minutes he/she managed to outwit the machinations of these evil giants which was causing both great mirth and much concern in equal parts in the observers of this tragi-comedy unfolding before us all – we may be giants in stature, but we were no match for this plucky ducky! Sheer weight of numbers finally completed the rescue by which time the mother and the rest of her fold were back on the scene so all three were finally reunited with the family, and we all heaved a sigh of relief and were really happy for the mother.

My allotted time was up, so after a chat with one man, André, who had somehow emailed me concerning some shots I had taken, though I had never received the message, I apologised and hopefully we can meet up again and sort things, as we found we were both close neighbours in the village of Marston Moretaine! I returned to the house in good time thanks to a following wind, and I was glad of the medicine.

CDW 2015 – Two Photographers Clerkenwell Design Week 2015

Clerkenwell has been my milieu for many a year, and much has changed since I first arrived, and worked out my RAF leave for a basement photographers’ studio in Hatton Garden. Gamages Department Store was still trading, and seemingly had given rise to much of the trade in the Leather Lane Market. I worked simply for the experience and expenses for six weeks at Francis-Thompson Studios. It was part of Sidney Barton PR Services based in nearby Breams Buildings, Fetter Lane. I had absolutely no idea at that time of the part that this area of working London was to play in my working life.

I left many times – each time I returned there were subtle changes, but its heart kept beating, and the Twentieth Century brought the most extensive changes of all, and now many of the streets I first knew have disappeared, but Clerkenwell Design Week allows visitors to see the spirit of both the old and the new, and the warmth of the place lives on. A few of my past work colleagues still work here and for the past three years I have taken a camera to capture glimpses of both past and present and the quirky, and welcomed the establishment of Zaha Hadid’s Gallery that opened on my first visit to CDW.

On the Wednesday I treated myself to a break from the stresses of moving my home from Caddington to Marston Moretaine to pay a visit this year, and in chatting to a salesman in one of the first places Geoff Dann and I visited, he knew precisely where my new abode was situated, so this is indeed a small world. On a purely personal level both of us visitors were interested in working chairs for the lengthy times spent in front of Mac screens to post-process images from our respective cameras, and Elite had two interesting task chairs, the iSit and the Airflex which we flight-tested and flagged as worth considering.

Another showroom, Mosa held our attention from a background perspective with individual 300 x 900mm tile panels, we then headed to the Farmiloe Building, now seemingly termed the Design Factory, where my interest in cars was tweaked by the main Sponsor this year, Renault. Taking detail shots of this made it feel as if I was transported to Goodwood and the Festival of Speed. An old school that used to house studios for a couple of photographers I knew has become the London office for Zaha Hadid, whose influence could even be seen on the red Renault Concept Car, when you look at her acrylic furniture on display in her gallery, which we later visited. See if you can spot them.

My own interest in the quirky and amusing can also be seen in some of the more random shots taken during the day, such as architectural details, and amusing juxtapositions such as the lone blue Barclays Boris Bike amongst the line of Santander red ones – an omen that Barclays should heed? Our last major call was in Zaha’s Gallery, before a brief visit to another ex-business colleague John Swift of the Colour Company and his wife Annie, Retouchers with whom I worked before setting up ‘SOLUTIONS photographic’– they also are shortly leaving old London Town, but I end my visual trip where I started, at Old Street and the Tools of Change, the cranes. Till the next time, farewell to Clerkenwell; the beating heart of working London.

Holy Trinity, Aylesbury Concert

Late Wednesday evening I receive a text that a Concert is scheduled for the Saturday at the Holy Trinity Church, Walton Street Aylesbury that my daughter Lizzy has just heard about, and was I interested. Under most circumstances I would always try to attend anyway, but the stress that has attended my forthcoming move from Caddington, the marital home to my own home in Marston Moretaine was even more appealing to allow the music to wash over me and restore calm.

I set my phone alarm to give me ample time to spruce myself up and gather my camera gear together for the venue. I had never been to this church, so I had no idea of the layout or lighting, though Lizzy had said it was not overly bright. Fortunately there is a car park nearby, though only as the crow flies, but for mere mortals it involves first walking away from the church to reach the crossing over the dual carriageway, then the same distance and more to reach the venue. That would have been a serious trek for Lizzy with her baritone saxophone, its case and music stand, for the preliminary rehearsal and concert the return trip would be even harder.

I parked the car and reaching the road I took a quick shot of building opposite, intending then to take a shot of the church, but then I get a call from a long term friend, whom I had left a message of the impending move, I chatted all the way to the church, then had to end the call as I got my ticket and promptly having explained, in the course of paying for it managed to completely forget I had been still connected, so once settled inside resumed the call and apologised and would have a longer call later. Thus I completely forgot to take a shot of the church!

Inside I tried to locate where Lizzy would be seated and found the least obstructed view of her position which was to the right of centre on the end. It was not as packed as some of the Aylesbury Community Band’s audiences, but they were enthusiastic and I was able to exercise my feet to the beat without affecting my handholding of the two cameras with the 70-200mm for the individual musicians and 24-105mm for the more inclusive shots.

After the interval, I moved to the right hand side wall for a change of viewpoint as well as a shift to my 100-400mm lens to get individual musicians on the far left and profiles of Rob Wicks, the Conductor. The music in some instances was familiar to me, but not all, though I would have had to have had a heart of stone not to be nticed into humming my way through the final piece – the Dambusters March, with this being the 70th Anniversary of VE Day.

The Gallery is less arranged due to time constraints, but hopefully captures at least some of the musicians I could see without too much lost to the plethora of very effective LED lamps over the scores; for those who did not feature, I apologise for my and the pillars’ positions.

Gardening Book Delivery to Stockwood

I have now exchanged Contracts and am due to move to Marston Moretaine any day now, so my days, nights and times I did not know existed, have been filled by filling – filling boxes; the end result being that a four-bedroomed house has been reduced to a series of corridors between stacks – of boxes!
In order to achieve this Nirvana, I have reduced wall-to-ceiling bookcases to the building blocks of a cardboard city of skyscraper stacks of boxes. Where some have a small room in their house they term a boxroom, I have a boxhouse! It offered the opportunity to do some reading-weeding and provide an abundant supply of very random books to the Caddington Allotment Library, being successfully built by one Helen Taylor.
After the first room's bookcase was emptied I delivered a mere three boxes, but at that time I knew there were to be more, and a couple of back-breaking days later, another few boxes made their way to the Allotments Library, and I said there might just be a few to follow – I was wrong! I had forgotten that bookcases were to be found on the landing and in my bedroom, so I duly delivered yet more heavy boxes, saying there might yet be a few lonely remainders to follow – wrong again! I made no more promises to Helen and her daughter on their doorstep as I delivered yet another box.

These books had been acquired from my reading, that of my ex-wife and both our deceased parents from their collections. Amongst them, I unearthed a book signed by the entire Yorkshire Cricket team in the early part of the twentieth century and the point of this narrative; a book entitled: 'The Gardener's Enquire Within'. I had put this aside as soon as I spotted its title with the intention of making it a present to one of the gardeners at the Stockwood Discovery Centre, Jan Tysoe. I had made a vow to myself that I would not be creating any more galleries until the packing was completed, but that vow was about to be tested because there was no way I was going to visit the Gardens without a camera at this time of year, so I took only the single camera with the 90mm Tamron macro attached along with the book and sought out Jan without even removing the soft case from the camera.

However, having earlier in the day had a stressful series of phone calls to Insurance companies, the opportunity and the temptation to capture some of the colour and beauty around me, conspired to break my resolve, and the case was stuffed in one pocket and the lens cap in another and shooting began immediately I had handed the book to Jan. It was rewarding that she appreciated it and  from the ensuing brief conversation, I knew it had found a new home.  As we walked by the apple blossom and I took a few pictures, I learned that this was a real success story as two earlier, poor and wet seasons had all but killed these bushes. I left Jan to tend to the greenhouse and did my best to capture the new leaves and flowers that were the gardeners' reward for all their hard work over the winter.

Before leaving I paid a quick visit to the greenhouse to say goodbye and add the last few shots, but it was in here that I found myself getting the blindspots that were a precursor to a Migraine and I held out my hand as Jan directed her hose on my outstretched palm to down a couple of Paracetamol tablets. This had blatantly been brought along by my earlier telephone frustrations of the last two days.

That was last week and I did not even look at what I had taken till I had completed the filling of many more boxes to do my best to honour the vow I had broken.

Misty Start at Tring Reservoirs

With the imminent potential move from this house to another a few miles further up the M1 and closer to Bedford, from now on my free time will have a very different set of priorities, and having just missed several promising weather days lost to the start of packing my current home into a series of cardboard boxes, I decided that I just had to pay a final visit for a while, to Tring Reservoirs, and to give myself the best of chances I set my alarm for five o’clock, a time that I have on occasion been more familiar to going to bed, rather than getting up!

As is my wont, I awoke to a light wakefulness a few minutes before the alarm, and reached out to check the time through squinting eyes to avoid the glare from the screen of the phone, and there were some seven minutes to go, but I got out from under the duvet with nothing that could be described as alacrity and started my ablutions. At least I had laid out all my clothes the night before and changed the contents of the pockets to a scruffy pair of trousers that still bore the dried whitish soil from the last trip to the banks of the Marsworth reservoir. I took a quick look beyond the curtains and was greeted by a a grey mist that was almost thick enough to call fog as the shops up and across the road were barely visible.

I showered in haste and only downed a bowl of Muesli as I prepared a small flask of coffee and grabbed some crisps and biscuits and all my camera gear and a backpack which contained a second camera with my 24-105mm, and I was out of the door just short of an hour after waking. The mist lifted as I came towards Kensworth and as I drove down Bison Hill after Whipsnade, I was above the mist that shrouded the plain below, but as I drove towards Tring the mist was rising, yet still hung over the lake at Tringford as I parked the car. Billy the Baker’s house on the far bank showed faintly through the veils of mist floating across the intervening water, so I grabbed two quick shots, whilst holding the camera steady with the tripod dangling as a counterweight, before heading across the road to the banked path between the twin lakes of Startops End and Marsworth, heading towards the Grand Union canal. As I came to the fork in the path, I spotted a pair of grebe starting their dance routine, but this was stopped by the flapping of wings from a heron on the bank, deciding I was too close, both had lost the magic of the moment!

When I arrived at my chosen spot, I had to descend the bank quietly so as not to disturb another photographer who was intently concentrating on taking a shot. Either he lives much closer or is an insomniac as I learned he had been there for more than forty minutes, but there had been little activity thus far, and precious little the day previous! We were lucky with herons during our stay as a pair visited and alighted on the tallest branch of the dead tree straddling the water in front of us, but until he departed a couple of hours later we only had flybys by a kingfisher or two, but three quarters of an hour after he left, I did see a pair, but only one landed and on both occasions I was shooting through branches and at a distance which was a shame; the wind rose and I was ill-prepared for the wind-chill it brought and before my limbs froze, I called it a day and took the long walk back.

Stockwood Early Spring 2015

I had learned that Spring had erupted in the warmth of the last few days at the Stockwood Discovery Centre Gardens, so I headed there before my planned trip to handover the last quarter’s accounts to my accountant in Ampthill.

It proved to be a fruitful visit as the blossom on the trees had also awakened the first of the season’s pollinators as well. I also heard some promising news on the house front, so was able to arrange a visit to sign the first of the documents at the Solicitors; the ball is now rolling and now one of my next conversations will be with a Removals company to get a quote.

Back to the days pictures, I was taken aback at how so much has appeared in the last few days as on my last visit I was definitely having to search carefully, such was not the case this afternoon I was spoiled for choice.

I was using the 7D MkII with the 90mm Tamron Macro and one reason was so that I could take advantage of its onboard flash to fill in the shadows occasionally when the sun was casting too harsh a light.

A father, also a Canon shooter, was teaching his young son the intricacies of taking shots of flowers and leaves – I mouthed: “Start them young” to the mother as I passed, and she smiled as she acknowledged my comment. Later I met up with Jan who let me into the greenhouse once again, so I took a few shots there in Sauna conditions despite her opening some of the windows. She asked me to lock up when I had finished, but the lock was so well-concealed I had to text her that I could not find it! Fortunately she came back and located it – there’s nothing like a blind photographer! As we walked back to the Fernery, she took a look on the camera screen at some of what I had taken and seemed happy with what I had captured.

Light Wind at Brogborough

It is all too easy to make poor decisions by making assumptions about weather based upon the weather you are experiencing as opposed to the destination you plan to visit. This morning it seemed there was little wind though it was bright and I headed for Wilstone in search of birds. The wind was quite strong which should have told me not to expect too much, but Being an optimist I soldiered on battling against the wind to circle the lake and headed for the Hide at the far side.

 I saw little of interest on the long walk round and as I entered the hide, a group began to pack up and leave, so there was just myself and a birder with a scope. I decided to stick it for a bit despite there being no activity on the lake beyond mallards, coots and cormorants, and a single Canada Goose on a nest right in front of the hide. 

I left, having not taken a shot in anger, and on the return to the car I was no luckier, but I did learn that there were a pair of Gargeney, but they were way to far away for me, but I was shown the male via a scope. Once back at the car I phoned Sam Barnes at Brogborough and learned they were packed out with windsurfers, so there was no room in the car park, and I’d have to shoot from the farm side, so despite the lateness, I took a chance and headed north.

There was far less wind here than at Wilstone, but there were still a handful of windsurfers out, and I thought it a shame I had not come here straightway! But almost immediately the windsurfers all retired to the shore and the wind died even further and began changing direction. I waited.

I was rewarded by people taking to the water again, and some seemed to make good headway with what little wind there was and so I was pleased to be able to make up for what I had lost earlier. At one stage I decided to change my location, but that was not such a good move as, everyone seemed to take that opportunity to head back to shore, so that marked the end of my shooting for the day.

Out and About in the Country

As is often the case, I have a subject in mind to photograph, but Serendipity dictates what in fact I get to capture. This afternoon I had hoped that I might take advantage of the sun burning off the mist and see red kite taking advantage of any thermals that were created. At the start of my journey I did catch sight of two individual soaring above woodland clumps, but both soon disappeared from view, and in following them found myself travelling between King's Walden and Frogmore.

I spotted a tractor in the distance and thought that might make an interesting subject, as it neared I realised this was a JCB towing a device I had not seen before, after I had taken a few shots and the driver stopped to reset something I asked him what it was and he told me it was a Mole that cut a small diameter tunnel just below the surface to help provide drainage in areas of land prone to becoming waterlogged.
He had finished this particular field and was due to move to another, so I asked whether he minded my continuing to take pictures, he had no problem and suggested I follow him to the new field, which I duly did, and in the second group of shots I now knew what I was looking to describe whereas the first images really showed tractor and tool.
 Arriving at this field I found I could take pictures when he was working close to me, and turn around and take shots of a different tractor towing a different implement in the next field, so I alternated the subjects I shot, before waving farewell to the Mole Driver and set off to pastures new, as I left I was attracted to the lines in the field opposite the gate I was due to leave.
As I headed back towards home I spotted some pheasants that seemed far less wary of me, and managed a few shots before I finished my afternoon shooting session. A very pheasant afternoon all in all!

Marsworth in April Warmth

Arriving later than intended, I found my conscience heading towards me – I was greeted by another photographer who was departing, and he hailed me as a "Latecomer" I had to acknowledge he was entirely correct! We stopped for a brief chat; he felt he should have come down with a wider angle and taken some landscapes as he said the mist was very attractive when he came down, and he had had no luck with his hopes of capturing kingfishers. He can take comfort from my only seeing a single flyby of one. However a heron flew in and even landed where we might normally have been sited!

I got shots of him seeking out fish, and he did catch one, but he was shielded from me at the moment by a tree trunk! He flew to several different perches, but all my images of him were shot through a veil of branches. I caught a mere glimpse of a grebe that had also successfully caught its fish breakfast, but he downed it before I got a chance to get him in my sights.

After staying awhile, I made my way back and spotted another grebe couple, a cormorant and a swan making a brief takeoff and landing; the grebe's advances were cut short by a mallard making a noisy pass at a reluctant drake which promptly hid amongst the reeds. I moved on and was almost deciding to call it a day when I saw yet another pair of grebe on Startops starting on their display, they both paddled in opposing circles before coming together again and I managed to capture at least a part of their ritual, before they decided to go their own way – it never reached the sharing of weeds stage.

That was the end of this particular trip.

Briefest Brogborough Visit!

It was both bright and breezy here at Caddington, so I did not bother to check what the wind might be like at Brogborough. As it transpired there was less breeze here than where I had set off from! As I neared the lake I saw very little activity, and when I arrived there were just the windsurfers out and they were a long way away!

I decided there was only one chance of getting any meaningful pictures and that was from the far side, at Common Farm, I met the owner and her daughter as they were coming along the drive and fortunately she recognised me and told me where I might park.

I got out my camera and tripod and headed for a spot where I could capture the action and after a few quick pictures, decided that as the wind direction had altered, I might be better further round, but sadly by the time I reached there, the wind had died still further and no one was going to be coming my way.
That was it! No more shooting – I headed back to the Clubhouse to say Cheerio to Emma and Sam, bemoaning that I must be the kiss of death to any action on the lake, and bid them both farewell.

The gallery has almost every shot I managed to get in that brief encounter – the shortest spell at the lake ever!

Bedfordshire Youth Concert Band 20th Anniversary

Lizzy studied Music with a Bedfordshire band and at Harlington and was due to play in this Anniversary celebration at a Church in Bedford and we were invited to come along and join in with the occasion.

Diane and Tony kindly picked me up at Caddington, and I was ready despite their ealy arrival, such was the anticipation. My original intention was for me to drive them up to save them the additional petrol, but the offer was refused so with my generosity knowing no bounds I bought all our tickets (at the Concessions rate! – I did say it knew no bounds!) We were among the earliest arrivals despite hitting Bedford’s rush-hour traffic congestion.

We secured seats that hopefully would allow at least an uninterrupted view of Lizzy without being deafened by the enthusiastic playing of so many in such a confined space. We were reliably informed the Trombones were the loudest instruments, but we were at least on the side furthest from them in aisle seats. After the first number a family group caused great mirth when they upped and headed for the the rear of the auditorium, duly acknowledged by Master of Ceremonies and Conductor Kevin Nicholls, saying they had been warned!

All the numbers were both recognisable and enjoyable, and played with passion, precision and enjoyment and were enthusiastically appreciated by the audience, not least by one young boy who had chosen the very front row, his hands and feet proved he was not there under sufferance but pure enjoyment, he seemed to particularly appreciate the solo trumpeters right in front of him!

I did my best to capture as many of the players as was possible from my fixed position in the central aisle – it is always a shame when a Band or Orchestra are not either banked or one’s viewing is not from an elevated position, as many individuals are therefore shielded from view. It is always a challenge from my standpoint to isolate the playing hands and the individual instruments; made even more difficult when trying to keep camera and lens steady when my feet are controlled by the beat of the music, and light is at a premium – I want some movement, but rarely a complete blur!

I can say without any hesitation a great evening was had by all, the music wonderful made all the better by the atmosphere of fun and dedication, as was brought to all of us by Kevin illustrating how everyone had progressed and many had even taken up Music for their careers.

Thank you to one and all, and may some of the newest players continue in the tradition and make music. I hope I may have captured something of the essence of the evening in the gallery of pictures associated with this text, though not in the correct order (Thanks - Eric Morecombe).

Cold Good Friday – Tring Reservoirs

In the hope of the wind dying back and the possibility of fitful sunshine, I headed for Tring Reservoirs. On my arrival it was still dull and as I walked from the Weir along the path between Startops and Marsworth reservoirs, the wind was very obvious, and I had come layered up but without a coat – bad mistake!

At first there seemed little activity beyond numerous Coots and Mallard, but then I spotted the distinctive flight of wagtails as they looped out from the bank and back again, and then foraging in the grass. I did spot a couple of Grebe that were showing signs of interest in each other, but continuing observation did not suggest they might start their dance ritual. I also spotted some swans that became restless and would take off, and move just a few yards before landing again, leaving one of their number behind in the corner between the reservoirs and the canal on the Marsworth side. He became very aggressive towards a single Greylag Goose, but the behaviour was very odd; his head was lowered as he fast-pedalled towards the goose, but it certainly put the wind up his opponent who amidst a flurry of wings took off and landed a few lengths away, but the swan employed the same behaviour a few more times; I could not work out quite why the Goos was so intimidated.

The Canada Geese like the Swans seemed to spend time flying from one spot to another, but their numbers were far smaller than those I had seen at Wilstone a fortnight or so back. On Startops End a lone Grebe seemed happy on its own and was successful on one dive I was able to capture. It seemed a small prize for a bird of its size, since I had once witnessed a Grebe swallowing two freshwater crawfish within a five minute spell.

I twice closed up the tripod to head home, and each time I spotted something else, such as Swans in flight, that caught my eye, so hastily used the tripod as a monopod to grab the shots! The reason for leaving early was to be ready for the off later to see my daughter Lizzy’s 20th Anniversary of Playing with Bedfordshire Music at a church in Bedford.