Onto film

Some weeks after the last August visit (and a couple of weeks ago now) we are back there again.

I liked the photo of Cal in the grasses, but wished I had it also on film to print myself in black and white.

I have only the RZ with me this time, and plenty of film.

I ask him if we can have another go, with him in the grasses....he gives me precisely two seconds.

Funnily enough, I think it comes out with a more natural feel than the first, even though in a sense it was more 'set up' (or re-created). This time the red hot pokers are over, and the white flowers are out, (dahlias? or maybe they are really yellow - I forget!) more suitable to black-and-white, which is pure fortune. I think I prefer it. Perhaps it was saved from seeming stilted because the whole thing was over in a blink of an eye, and I had to work very fast...





Dog-days of summer: Cal in the grasses






Another from the same afternoon. Neither 'set up' or re-created this time!





Dog-days of summer: Cal with horse chestnut

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Sketch book : postscript.

It has been positive sorting these digital pictures, there is an immediacy I cannot deny – taking the photographs, beginning to sort and edit some yesterday of the house and garden on the screen has set my mind spinning with ideas, reminded me how important the place is to me still, how much more there is to do.

I have many sleeves of negatives to look through, much to sort from the past, and many thoughts for the future.

Best of all, I still have several rolls of film to process from the last trip. As always when several weeks (or even, occasionally, months) have gone by & I’ve left the rolls waiting, and have half-forgotten what I’ve taken, I’m looking forward with eager anticipation to see what will be there…

The holidays are over, and my mind is spinning with projects – the strands that weave a continuing pattern of this place is only one of those projects – but I know it is one I will return to again and again.

The apple trees are old...

(continuing the "sketch book"...)









And there are hardly any apples on the Bramley any more. The eaters are Worcester Pearmains. Why is it that the best are out of reach?
Though...I could surely reach forward and take... that one...
















The silver birch is thought to be at least as old as the house itself, which dates back to the 'thirties. Looking up, it seems like the back of a woman, with neck bent forward and arms stretched to the sky.


















This is the boundary of the garden, I am outside, looking back.



















Not more than twenty paces, and I look back again. The house and garden are completely obscured.




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A splash of colour

Time for some pictures. These are from my trip described in my last post. And warning for traditional lovers (and of course I am one) these are not taken on film. I have all the photographs transferred safely to my computer of course, backed up on another hard drive - but no time yet to process them. I'm beginning to feel that keeping up with the workflow can be just as hard with digital...These are some sketches.










Cal in the grasses. He was hiding. All I spied was his face, his hair at this time of year bleached from red to gold, the exact colour of the summer grasses.












At last some time to myself, to wander around the garden while others are occupied on a sleepy afternoon, in the house. I lifted some low branches to the side of the small shed, and found the umbrella, hanging like some exotic flower, strange and surprising, but almost as if it had always been there...Was it left more recently, by a visitor, one of my brothers, a young nephew, or left there years ago, even by my father perhaps, and never noticed? Long enough for some creature to make it's nest inside it...

More to follow.....

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