yet another blog

Since I’ve got involved in this photography lark I’ve posted quite a few bits and pieces here about my escapades, which is not really what I’d intended for this blog in the beginning.

So, as it doesn’t appear that my photographic exploits are stopping anytime soon, and as its therefore likely that I’ll have more photo-related stuff to post, it seemed the most sensible thing would be to set up a dedicated photo-related blog.

Pinching a few of the posts from here just to get it off the ground, I’ve also borrowed one of this blog’s category labels as its name…

Adventures of an Idiot. Please do check it out if you have a few moments, you’re so inclined, and you fancy a bit of a giggle.

(However, the present intention is for it not to be all humour and self-deprecation… hoping to include a few kit reviews, think pieces, and stuff like that over time.)

…to all my regular visitors (all three of them!) for the laggardley way in which I’ve completely failed to blog anything recently.

Reason (excuse) is, I’ve become increasingly preoccupied with all this photography lark.
Best of all possible motives of course. The theory being that the more pics I take the greater the likelihood that I may eventually get my head around how the whole photography thing works. So that when I’m on one of my “jaunts” (at a demo, protest, or whatever) I’m increasing the chances that I’ll return with more usable pics.

Well, that was the theory anyway. In practise, I’ve made the rather disturbing discovery that both taking pics and frequenting Flickr (where I upload most of my output) are actually quite addictive, hence the absence of posts here.

Sorry folks… try to do better in future.

Hmm… this blog seems to be developing into quite the diary for my photographic exploits. No matter.

Both still trying to get to grips with all this digital photography lark, for the past few weeks a mate and I have been spending a few hours here and there on “photo expeditions”… wandering out to somewhere local that seems interesting and shooting whatever takes our fancy. And using these opportunities to experiment with different camera settings etc.

Although these exercises are intended to be more of a learning experience than productive in terms of output nevertheless its nice to end up with something to show for our efforts.
Over the past few months I’ve gained quite some pleasure in sharing my photos with the world at large via my Flickr account (www.flickr.com/photos/fotdmike), and the results of these little expeditions are proving to be quite handy for that purpose.

Well, recently we’ve begun to mess about with night photography, trying to get our heads around the requirements specific to this particular branch of the art.
I’m not talking here about the quick snap with the camera’s own inbuilt flash, but the rather more planned shot with tripod, timed exposure, etc.

Not for us of course the manuals, and the studying, and the photography courses that mark out the route any sensible person would adopt. Oh no. We much prefer simply to dive in and learn by doing it.

Well, just last week our town’s Christmas illuminations were switched on, which seemed to offer an ideal opportunity to develop our skills.
So with a spare couple of hours this past evening off we go into the town, armed with cameras, tripods, etc, hoping to end up with some quite interesting piccies.

Two things worked against us, neither of which we’d actually anticipated.
Firstly, the wind. Not particularly strong admittedly. But just sufficient to keep the street-hung illuminations in motion, making it rather difficult (virtually impossible in fact) to take any timed exposure that was in focus.
And secondly, the people. Just too damn many of them. Lack of forethought on our part meant we’d picked what must be one of the worst times of day (early evening, when a lot of folk were just leaving work to make their way home) on one of the worst days of the week (market day, when there’s more than the usual number of people in town).
Consequently, the shots we tried to take of static decorations (Christmas trees and suchlike) were marred by people passing in front of the camera just at the critical moment. And of course we were limited in where we could set up our tripods without causing an obstruction.

The end result being… well, dunno how my mate’s done yet, but I ended up with two just about usable photos out of a total of some 50+.

Disappointing, to say the least.

Never let it be said that I allow experience to get in the way of stupidity.

Due to an unexpected absence of internet connection (see previous post) meaning that virtually all computer-related tasks were put on hold, I decided I’d indulge a little photo session.

It’d been quite a murky day, overcast and with a definite dampness in the air, so the lighting conditions seemed quite interesting.
And there’s a little public footpath a bit off the beaten track that I’d promised myself I’d explore with a camera at some point.

So, pack my kit up (couple of cameras, tripod, spare batteries, spare memory cards, lens-cleaning kit, hat, gloves, waterproofs - everything bar the kitchen sink practically) and off wandering.

This particular public footpath runs alongside some fields; in fact, its actually part of the fields.
And quite clearly its not used very much by those for whom it was intended as the local farmer has encroached quite extensively upon its width with his ploughing etc.

Now farmland has a tendency to get a bit muddy, particularly in wet weather. And we’ve had quite a few rainy days here recently.

You’d think that with my experience of fields (gleaned from a) having been born and raised in the country, and b) having camped out for days at a time in quite a few fields all over the country, and not always in the best of weather), I’d make all the right connections (fields + rain = mud) wouldn’t you?

Wrong!

So off I traipse up this narrow trackway that’s getting increasingly muddy the further I walk, in pursuit of things worth snapping that, it has to be said, seem few and far between.

Then, about a half-mile into the walk it all runs out - the track, every sign of anything in the least bit inspiring, and all suggestion of solid ground.

And in the homeward walk I’m reminded of something else that experience should in fact have warned me about - mud sticks! Especially to boots.

Still harbouring depression over loss of internet connection (previous post, as if you needed reminding), this is now compounded by precious few photos to show for my expedition and spending the next hour or so cleaning half-a-ton of mud off my boots.

Dammit! I really should have known better.

Not being totally averse to focussing on the shortcomings deficiencies and all-round second-rateness of Bedford nevertheless I’m equally as prepared to, in the words of the saying, give “credit where credit’s due” - as I perceive it anyway.

Case in point… a few years ago a new footbridge was constructed over the river just on the outskirts of the town centre.
Its rather unusual design met with mixed reactions - not all of them entirely complimentary. In fact, my impression was that the general feeling amongst the local residents was fairly negative.

The “Butterfly Bridge” as it was named was designed by architects C. Wilkinson & Partners, and engineers Jan Bobrowski & Partners, and was the winning design in a national design competition held in 1995.
The design brief was to “create a memorable landmark to symbolise the end of the 20th century and the beginning of the 21st century”.

Unlike many of the people I talked with at the time, I was impressed by the structure from the first. It seemed to me quite elegant and innovative, if maybe a bit out-of-place in the town as it then was.

Well, since I started messing around with all this digital photography lark I’ve been mulling over one or two projects to indulge the interest. And the Butterfly Bridge was an obvious contender. You can see the results on my Flickr page.

So, a mate and I decide to wander into the town centre to check out Bedford’s latest “tourist attraction” - a fountain. Obviously we had to snap some pics of it.Construction was completed last week, after what seemed like a couple of months of digging and whatever it is they had to do. So we were expecting something quite grand. And end up with… well… see for yourself. Seems like a helluva long time to me to basically just lay down a few leaky water pipes.
I’ve got a sneaking suspicion that its probably illuminated at night. Have to check that out and see if I can get some more photos if so.The “fountain’s” located in an area of the town known locally as Pigeon Square (no prizes for guessing why). It also just happens to be the place where all the local tramps, winos and reprobates seem to congregate.
So I’ve got this theory: its not really a fountain at all. Its actually an open-air shower/bidet (work it out for yourself!) for the area’s great unwashed.

On the other hand, it could simply be a means of keeping the pavement permanently clean of all the pigeon droppings.

Whatever it is, it hardly qualifies as an attention-grabber as far as I’m concerned.

When I was a kid my mum bought me a small, plastic, Kodak Brownie camera. It was great. Point it at something and press the button and bingo, I’d taken a photograph. And the only thing I had to remember was to keep the sun behind me. I even managed to master the art of changing the rolls of film!

When I wasn’t a kid I ran, for quite a few years, my own relatively successful graphics studio. A significant part of its success was due to the fact that, although I was working virtually as a one-man-band, I was always extremely reluctant to outsource anything.
Which meant that, as time passed, I managed to acquire quite extensive specialised equipment and skills (and also worked 18-hours days!).

Almost inevitably photography began to play an increasing part in my workload so, sticking to my already established working practice, I invested fairly heavily in quite a bit of pro photographic equipment.
Bad mistake! I rapidly discovered I was absolutely useless at it - the gear I’d bought was simply far too sophisticated. Shutter speeds, f-stops, ISO numbers… all double-dutch to me.
Discovered I was really good at darkroom skills. Could process rolls of film without any trouble at all. Pity all the resulting pics were absolutely crap.
Just couldn’t sus out how the whole photography thing worked, and couldn’t really be asked to spend time trying to memorise the various manuals I’d picked up.
Y’see, I’m not really a “manual person”. Much prefer the “hands on” approach, fumblingly finding out how things work simply by doing it. But for some reason that didn’t seem to work very well with cameras, so eventually I just gave up, vowing to never again be tempted into this photography caper.

Well, time passed and the “digital revolution” occurred. Being something of a gadget freak I fairly quickly got into computers and found my tried and tested “hands on” approach worked a treat. In next to no time I was messing around with programming, developing database apps, and having a great time… well addicted.

Then digital photography appeared on the scene. Hmm. “So how difficult can it be?” I asked myself. With the ability to almost infinitely manipulate the end product until some sort of satisfactory end result is achieved, I felt the temptation to dip my toe in again bubbling to the surface.
But I successfully resisted the urge, still smarting from my previous encounter with the art… until other activities of mine rendered photography the next logical step to take. And until a mate maliciously encouraged me to try my hand at it again.

So got my first digital camera (a Konica Minolta DiMAGE Z6) and began to experiment.
Ok, the results weren’t spectacular, but at least I could once again take photos with an ease approaching that of my childhood experiences.
Sufficient in fact to encourage me to go up-market a little bit, and acquire a Canon EOS 400D.

Great bit of kit! Forget all the twiddly bits and the “if you know what you’re doing you can change all the settings” sort of stuff. Simply switch it to auto and click away. I actually began to enjoy using it.

So the other day (Tuesday to be precise) off trots I down to the Disarm DSEi protest in London, armed with camera gear in the role that had led me to acquire it in the first place.

All starts off fine, busily clicking away taking loads of photos (that’s the beauty of digital - you can take as many pics as you like and simply delete the ones that haven’t worked, wasting nothing other than a bit of battery life)… for a couple of hours or so.
So there was I, rapidly walking backwards taking loads of shots of the oncoming protest marchers, flicking between one camera mode and another as various elements kept changing (lighting, distance, etc) when suddenly, dammit, the camera stopped working!

Well, not exactly stopped, but sort of slowed down. I’d press the button then have to wait for ages for the shutter to make its little clicky noise.
So I looked at it. Switched it off. Switched it on. Checked the battery was ok. Made sure the lens was working all right. Fiddled with the knobs and buttons. Switched it off and on again. All to no avail. It simply wasn’t having any of it.
Hmm… perhaps its overheated, I thought. After all, it was a really hot day and I’d been out in the sun all the time. Switch it off and let it cool down a bit maybe.

Fortunately I’d been prescient enough to bring the Konica with me, so used that to carry on with the task of documenting events. But lurking in the back of my mind was the constant thought that I’d broken the Canon, and with that my enthusiasm seemed to wane quite substantially.

On returning home I fiddled with it again. Surely it must have cooled down by now. Turned it on, off, and on again. Changed the lens. Did a few test shots (of the floor as it happens, cos that’s where it was pointed throughout my fiddling). Looked at it. It looked back at me. Not very informative.
I find it difficult to believe now how depressed I felt. Inexplicable. Its just a bit of electronic gadgetry.
Yet somehow I’d managed to sort of “bond” with it. Hell. Its just a camera. And I’d broken it. I felt lost, forlorn, disheartened. So I went to bed.

Following morning kept putting off the job of looking at the Canon again. I knew I had to at some stage, but wanted to delay having my worst fears confirmed - that it was definitely broken and I’d either have to get it repaired or get a replacement. Or, worst scenario possible, read the manual and see if I could sort out the problem myself (hell, its digital isn’t it - there must be a reset button somewhere!).

So that’s what I ended up (eventually) doing. First off, see if the manual mentions a reset button. No such luck. Next, turn to the troubleshooting guide at the back.
But nothing listed there even remotely resembles the fault I’m experiencing. Ah well, just read through the manual cover to cover and see if I can find anything that might be useful (for which read informative).

Well, the fault seemed to occur when I was fiddling around trying to disable flash mode (after all, who needs flash enabled when it was a brilliantly sunny day, and that little flash thingy keeps annoyingly popping up whenever you click the button?).
Hmm… and what’s this, here on page 49, about the “self-timer”. That sounds suspiciously like the fault I’m experiencing. Apparently there’s this special icon thing that shows on the LCD display when the camera’s in self-timer mode.

Switch camera on. Check display. Hey, sure enough, there’s that icon thing. I must’ve inadvertently pressed the “enable” button when I was feverishly changing modes. So how the hell do I disable it? Once more unto the manual, and click… click… its gone.
Heart in mouth, hesitantly try another test shot (of the floor). And bloody hell, its back to normal again. So it wasn’t a fault after all - its a feature!
(Just as well I’d decided to invest some time in trying to sort it myself rather than take it to the local Canon stockist straight away.)

And suddenly my whole mood lightens. To say ecstatic would perhaps be a tad over the top, but not too far short of the truth. And so, once again (for the umpteenth time - I forget precisely how many) I have to remind myself of the acronym RTBM!

I find it difficult to believe how stupid I can be sometimes. The only saving grace is that my semi-permanent state of stupidity is a constant reminder to me never to take myself too seriously.

(For those who don’t know: RTBM = Read The Bloody Manual)

For some time its been in the back of my mind to wander along to Cardington Hangars and take a few pics of these, if not actually historic then certainly very interesting, buldings.
So, nice day, bit of spare time, camera handy - and voila!

Cardington Hangars, located at Shortstown, are some 2.5 miles south of Bedford.
Built in the 1920s (No 2 Hangar - as in the pic - was moved to Cardington from Pulham in Norfolk), they were originally intended to house giant airships such as the R101 which crashed and caught fire in France in 1930.

The giant buildings (measuring some 150ft high and 800ft long) have since been put to various uses, one such being the conducting of large scale fire and explosion studies.

More recently Hangar No 2 was leased by Warner Bros to use as a film studio, and was the location of a huge indoor film set - thought to be one of the world’s largest - built for the Batman movie “The Intimidation Game”.

Hangar No 1 is a Grade 2 listed building.

Amazes me sometimes just how much I don’t know. Occasionally it’d be nice just to know something… anything in fact.

Case in point… given my Pagan predilection you’d think that I’d know a bit about nature, and wildlife, and be able to - for example - differentiate and name various species of plants, trees and stuff.

Wouldn’t you?

Wrong!

I can just about manage to identify the really common stuff like poppies, daffodils, oak trees, willow trees and… um… maybe holly trees.
Shameful, isn’t it? But I seem to manage all right normally - until suddenly I encounter something where I really do wish I weren’t quite so ignorant.

Wednesday last (23rd May) a couple of friends and I were walking along Cardington Road in Bedford, passing this really long line of trees, bushes, shrubs and stuff.
Friend A draws our attention to the fact that lots of the flora are festooned with cobweb-type cocoons or something. Far more in fact than she’s ever seen before in any one place.

Now whilst I might not be able to name the various species of plant life I am a relatively observant sort of person, and I have to say I cannot recollect ever having seen such a profusion of these cocoon-type things at one time ever before in my life. Nor am I particularly young. Nor am I a life-long city-dweller.The web structures appear to be confined to just one species of tree along a hedgerow some few hundred yards in length. But the trees that are affected are literally covered in them.


First impressions (on all our parts) were that they’re cobwebs and, from the multitude of little “speckly” type things (eggs?) inside them we initially thought they were spider webs.
Nasty! If that’s the case it means that before too long that particular area of the town’s gonna be infested with the little beasties.But then we came across some that clearly contained caterpillar-type creatures. Friend B flicks one of the “cocoons” with his finger and the inhabitants start wriggling around - testimony to their being alive. So I later began to speculate that maybe these are cocoons of butterflies/moths/dragonflies - I dunno. And this is where I’m made painfully aware of my own ignorance.

However, all ignorance aside, the sheer profusion of them strikes me as being remarkable. Indeed, quite unusual. I wonder whether this is an effect of the change in climate we’re so obviously experiencing.I’d also dearly love to know what the hell this stuff is!If you want to see all the photos we took of them check out my Flickr Photo Album.

OK, so its a bit late in the day but I’m finally catching up with this issue.

Unaccountably its something I’d not really engaged with - dunno why. Until now, that is. Over the past coupla months there’ve been a spate of articles in the press about this form of intrusive surveillance (mostly against, I’m pleased to note) and, perhaps more than anything else, these have brought the issue to the forefront of my consciousness.

So, as a preliminary skirmish with the topic I decided to do a bit of my own off-the-cuff research. Rather than post the details of that here (together with accompanying pics) I decided to create a dedicated page on the main site.

Check it out: “Say Cheese”…