Loopy
Suspended / Banned
- Messages
- 2,167
- Name
- Lynda
- Edit My Images
- Yes
I thought I'd share this rather than type something up then leave it on the hard drive (rather like alot of my photos). I got carried away so I can appreciate it if no-one gets to the end 
So these are the pictures that I missed today. I thought Id try to describe them as I didnt have an opportunity to photograph them and Im not sure if I couldve done them justice anyway.
Walked the dog at 6.30 and the winter sky was beautiful. The sky to the south was the most intense inky blue colour with a sliver of warmth along the easterly horizon as a hint of a possible beautiful sunrise. The bright delicate crescent of the moon was so sharp and Venus (I think) looked as bright as I have ever seen her, seemingly closer to the moon than recently. As I looked at the sky getting a tiny bit lighter, you could just make out the whole of the moon, very faint as if there was a layer over the sky with a photo from a different morning with the opacity taken right down.
Alas, no time to set up the tripod and try to figure out the correct settings.
After clearing the car for the third time of ice (this time including the inside) I set off for work a bit later than Id have liked. Optimistically, the camera was in the car as the previous day a sparrow hawk had landed outside the office window. Unlikely to happen again, but there are loads of small birds feeding just outside the kitchen at the moment.
The later start and the clear sky made my drive into work a magical but frustrating experience. The frustration comes from seeing all this wonderful scenery and not being able to stop anywhere to capture it for fear of either causing an accident or getting stuck in the snow.
This is what I saw on the slow 15 mile journey between Blyth and Ponteland.
(By the way I am taking notice of the car in front, junctions, leaving a safe distance etc.
)
Sitting at junction of estate waiting to get onto the main road, in front of me there is a hedgerow heavy with snow. The early sun is just starting to break and its shining golden through the bare tightly interwoven branches of the hawthorn. The sky above has turned a warm peachy colour at the horizon, blending into a pale turquoise then darker blue. I can still see the moon and Venus, paler now, and framed by the telegraph poles and wire.
Stuck at the level crossing and I can just start to see the sun coming though the woods to my left. Not much happening at the moment, but if we get the same conditions tomorrow I could walk here in 5 minutes. (Note to self. 0810 long woods)
Second gear up the Laverick Hall road and the 5 minutes wait at the crossings has meant the sun is now well above the clouds on the horizon line. Wow is all I can say (and I did this out loud by myself in the car). The fields to my left have been untouched by foot or vehicle. Its a slight hill out of Blyth and the land rolls gently down to the sea. The sky has taken on a very pale lilac tone and the sun is casting beautiful warm orange highlights and shadows over the subtle undulations of the fields. I am in awe. I cant stop and even if I could, the side of the road drops so Id be behind a hedge. (Note to self. 0820 Laverick Hall roundabout not sure where to walk to take photo from)
Woohoo, Im past the roundabout and on my way towards Cramlington. Just past the farm, take a quick glance to my right towards the sea. The sun is reflecting off the wind turbines and various buildings at the quayside. There are so many colours, from the bright white of the windmills to the reds and greys of the bauxite terminal at North Blyth. (Note to self 0825. Maybe I should go down to the quayside in the morning. Its a while since Ive been down there at sunrise)
Dual carriageway down towards Merck. Still in the shadows, but the sun is reflecting off the factories and I can see them shining through the trees. As I get to the bottom of the road, the snow emphasises the whiteness of the pharmaceutical factory and the two huge wind turbines recently erected make the whole scene look so futuristic. The sky is tinged with a pale pink and the lines of the building and blades of the turbines are a stark contrast to the soft textures of the snow covered trees in the foreground. (Note to self 0835. Maybe this would make a more interesting photo and I think I can get parked here)
Turn left at roundabout. Sun is just starting to catch the tops of the trees (hmm, wonder if there are any sloes left on them)
On the Snowy Owl road now. Bit slippy so very slow past the paintball place. The sun is shining onto the trees on my right and making every trunk stand out against the snow or sky. It looks like the place is glowing as the intense sunlight catches the ice, the wet moss and occasional red leaf of a beech tree.
I hate the next left turn. To tight and too skitey in this weather, but the trees when you get on the road meet at the top and form a cathedral like ceiling that is so pretty at the moment with the snow clinging to the branches and the sun trying to filter in from the left.
Turn onto the Berwick Hill road and the clarity of the sky is amazing this morning. I can see the hills in the distance that must be Tynedale, all white and patchwork. The fields to my left are sheets of unblemished snow, glistening in the sun. A couple of miles down the road and it all changes. Work on the open cast started a few months ago and theyve piled up huge banks of earth at either side so you cannot see most of it. In the snow this looks like it could be a set from a space movie with all the lines, embankments and glimpse of industrial equipment. This interests me almost as much as the natural scenery as it is unusual, temporary and quite controversial. Still nowhere to park. Wonder if I could get access if I phone, hmm doubt it. Just noticed a crow on top of the bank. One small black shape sitting on the line of two different shades of blue.
Just gone by Horton Grange and over to my right is the row of old buildings against the trees that I have passed for the last five years and never stopped to take a photo of. I can see them in my head in all of the seasons, especially autumn when the bronze of the trees warm the whole scene up. They look very remote this morning isolated from the small group of buildings in front.
As I drive along this road towards Berwick Hill and look through the gateways towards the Cheviots, I can see that the hedgerows have an extra dusting of frost or snow. They look like theyve been dipped in glitter the way the sun it catching them. I know this sounds like Im exaggerating but I was mesmerised by the way they seemed almost crystalline.
The next bit of the journey was my favourite. As I approached the few buildings on the bend I glanced over to my left towards the airport. The valley had a layer of wispy mist, just starting to dissipate in the suns early rays. For the next couple of miles I was thankful of the snow on the road that gave me an excuse to drive really slow and take in the beautiful scene in front of me. The whole countryside was bathed in soft warm apricot coloured mist, rendering trees and buildings to milky silhouettes of varying shades from pale gold to deep rich brown.
And then I was past. I feel like I have had a whirlwind tour of Mother Natures private art gallery; a constantly shifting window of images that will never be seen again by me. I drove along with my mind buzzing with questions - will the light be the same tomorrow, what settings would I use, where would I park and so much more. As I write this I have developed an even greater respect for landscape photographers and the efforts that are put into capturing these fleeting and unpredictable environmental circumstances.
Whether it is the rocket up my backside to get out of a nice warm Saturday morning bed and try to take some photos of my own remains to be seen.
So these are the pictures that I missed today. I thought Id try to describe them as I didnt have an opportunity to photograph them and Im not sure if I couldve done them justice anyway.
Walked the dog at 6.30 and the winter sky was beautiful. The sky to the south was the most intense inky blue colour with a sliver of warmth along the easterly horizon as a hint of a possible beautiful sunrise. The bright delicate crescent of the moon was so sharp and Venus (I think) looked as bright as I have ever seen her, seemingly closer to the moon than recently. As I looked at the sky getting a tiny bit lighter, you could just make out the whole of the moon, very faint as if there was a layer over the sky with a photo from a different morning with the opacity taken right down.
Alas, no time to set up the tripod and try to figure out the correct settings.
After clearing the car for the third time of ice (this time including the inside) I set off for work a bit later than Id have liked. Optimistically, the camera was in the car as the previous day a sparrow hawk had landed outside the office window. Unlikely to happen again, but there are loads of small birds feeding just outside the kitchen at the moment.
The later start and the clear sky made my drive into work a magical but frustrating experience. The frustration comes from seeing all this wonderful scenery and not being able to stop anywhere to capture it for fear of either causing an accident or getting stuck in the snow.
This is what I saw on the slow 15 mile journey between Blyth and Ponteland.
(By the way I am taking notice of the car in front, junctions, leaving a safe distance etc.
)Sitting at junction of estate waiting to get onto the main road, in front of me there is a hedgerow heavy with snow. The early sun is just starting to break and its shining golden through the bare tightly interwoven branches of the hawthorn. The sky above has turned a warm peachy colour at the horizon, blending into a pale turquoise then darker blue. I can still see the moon and Venus, paler now, and framed by the telegraph poles and wire.
Stuck at the level crossing and I can just start to see the sun coming though the woods to my left. Not much happening at the moment, but if we get the same conditions tomorrow I could walk here in 5 minutes. (Note to self. 0810 long woods)
Second gear up the Laverick Hall road and the 5 minutes wait at the crossings has meant the sun is now well above the clouds on the horizon line. Wow is all I can say (and I did this out loud by myself in the car). The fields to my left have been untouched by foot or vehicle. Its a slight hill out of Blyth and the land rolls gently down to the sea. The sky has taken on a very pale lilac tone and the sun is casting beautiful warm orange highlights and shadows over the subtle undulations of the fields. I am in awe. I cant stop and even if I could, the side of the road drops so Id be behind a hedge. (Note to self. 0820 Laverick Hall roundabout not sure where to walk to take photo from)
Woohoo, Im past the roundabout and on my way towards Cramlington. Just past the farm, take a quick glance to my right towards the sea. The sun is reflecting off the wind turbines and various buildings at the quayside. There are so many colours, from the bright white of the windmills to the reds and greys of the bauxite terminal at North Blyth. (Note to self 0825. Maybe I should go down to the quayside in the morning. Its a while since Ive been down there at sunrise)
Dual carriageway down towards Merck. Still in the shadows, but the sun is reflecting off the factories and I can see them shining through the trees. As I get to the bottom of the road, the snow emphasises the whiteness of the pharmaceutical factory and the two huge wind turbines recently erected make the whole scene look so futuristic. The sky is tinged with a pale pink and the lines of the building and blades of the turbines are a stark contrast to the soft textures of the snow covered trees in the foreground. (Note to self 0835. Maybe this would make a more interesting photo and I think I can get parked here)
Turn left at roundabout. Sun is just starting to catch the tops of the trees (hmm, wonder if there are any sloes left on them)
On the Snowy Owl road now. Bit slippy so very slow past the paintball place. The sun is shining onto the trees on my right and making every trunk stand out against the snow or sky. It looks like the place is glowing as the intense sunlight catches the ice, the wet moss and occasional red leaf of a beech tree.
I hate the next left turn. To tight and too skitey in this weather, but the trees when you get on the road meet at the top and form a cathedral like ceiling that is so pretty at the moment with the snow clinging to the branches and the sun trying to filter in from the left.
Turn onto the Berwick Hill road and the clarity of the sky is amazing this morning. I can see the hills in the distance that must be Tynedale, all white and patchwork. The fields to my left are sheets of unblemished snow, glistening in the sun. A couple of miles down the road and it all changes. Work on the open cast started a few months ago and theyve piled up huge banks of earth at either side so you cannot see most of it. In the snow this looks like it could be a set from a space movie with all the lines, embankments and glimpse of industrial equipment. This interests me almost as much as the natural scenery as it is unusual, temporary and quite controversial. Still nowhere to park. Wonder if I could get access if I phone, hmm doubt it. Just noticed a crow on top of the bank. One small black shape sitting on the line of two different shades of blue.
Just gone by Horton Grange and over to my right is the row of old buildings against the trees that I have passed for the last five years and never stopped to take a photo of. I can see them in my head in all of the seasons, especially autumn when the bronze of the trees warm the whole scene up. They look very remote this morning isolated from the small group of buildings in front.
As I drive along this road towards Berwick Hill and look through the gateways towards the Cheviots, I can see that the hedgerows have an extra dusting of frost or snow. They look like theyve been dipped in glitter the way the sun it catching them. I know this sounds like Im exaggerating but I was mesmerised by the way they seemed almost crystalline.
The next bit of the journey was my favourite. As I approached the few buildings on the bend I glanced over to my left towards the airport. The valley had a layer of wispy mist, just starting to dissipate in the suns early rays. For the next couple of miles I was thankful of the snow on the road that gave me an excuse to drive really slow and take in the beautiful scene in front of me. The whole countryside was bathed in soft warm apricot coloured mist, rendering trees and buildings to milky silhouettes of varying shades from pale gold to deep rich brown.
And then I was past. I feel like I have had a whirlwind tour of Mother Natures private art gallery; a constantly shifting window of images that will never be seen again by me. I drove along with my mind buzzing with questions - will the light be the same tomorrow, what settings would I use, where would I park and so much more. As I write this I have developed an even greater respect for landscape photographers and the efforts that are put into capturing these fleeting and unpredictable environmental circumstances.
Whether it is the rocket up my backside to get out of a nice warm Saturday morning bed and try to take some photos of my own remains to be seen.
:nono: