Notes from the field
Autumn beckons
For the last few days there has definitely been a whiff of autumn in the air. Nights are now noticeably drawing in and once the sun sets, temperatures fall quite rapidly. I spent yesterday aftenonn in my marsh hide and when I exited I couldn’t believe how cold it was. Straight on with the fleece! We have had a good summer here in the south. July and August has been very good indeed and as I write this it’s 22 degrees outside. But, I have to say, I am not a great lover of the hot days of summer, unless I’m laying on the beach with a cold bear in my hand! I’m really looking forward to autumn now with all it brings…photographing fungi, rutting deer, morning mists and the influx of wetland birds. Plus, getting up for sunrise ain’t half as difficult.
On the downside, just like spring, it’s all over too quickly so I’m determined to make the most of it, whatever the weather.
Heathland and Avocets
With the weather looking decidedly dubious over the next few days, I thought I should make the most of the last two mornings which were forecast as being fine.
So yesterday I headed for Hothfield Heathlands (as it is now called, not Hothfield Common as I said in a previous post), to (hopefully) catch a misty landscape with the heather in full bloom. It was a beautiful morning but as is so often the case, I found myself frantically searching for a decent composition, seeking out young bracken to act as my anchor point. Eventually I found what I was looking for then just stood and watched the day unfold.
In the distance, I could make out the huge shapes of highland cattle that are currently grazing the heath to keep the scrub under control. Once the sun had burned through the mist the light was too harsh for shooting landscapes, so the next 30 minutes was spent photographing the cattle.

Exposing for the highlights rendered everything else to almost black, giving the image a more moody quality.
As yesterday, I awoke at silly-o-clock and arrived well before sunrise at my hide on the marshes. It was a great sunrise with a spattering of clouds and the avocets came just within camera reach. They have to be our finest bird for silhouettes, no question. With its upturned bill, head sweeping from one side to another and the graceful way in which it moves, they are instantly recognisable.
It’s no wonder they are the symbol for the RSPB though it is not just for their appearance why it was chosen. About 160 years ago they were wiped out due to fen drainage and man using it’s feathers and collecting it’s eggs. Then, after the second world war it is thought they were dislodged from their breeding grounds in the Netherlands by the flooding of the polders and they began to nest on Minsmere and Havergate Island in Suffolk. Recently, on the Southend RSPB website, I read that their preferred breeding conditions of shallow pools and low islands which are uncommon in this country, was artificially created by a wayward bomb from a nearby firing range at Havergate , blowing a hole in the seawall which allowed the tidal river to flood in. At Minsmere, the marshes were deliberately flooded to halt invading troops and when the water drained away, shallow pools remained creating ideal nesting conditions. The RSPB bought both as reserves and today over 100 pairs breed on both with a national population of around 400. A real success story.
Live View for close-ups
When shooting close-ups I normally use the Nikon D2x since the quality at iso 100 is better than the Nikon D300 at L1 which is supposed to be an equivalent to iso 100 (the lowest iso it would normally go down to is 200) but it doesn’t really work out that way. Without going into too much detail, the D2x produces better results at iso 100 than the D300 which I normally reserve for bird and mammal photography when I may have to shoot at higher iso’s (400/800) and this is when the D300 out-performs the D2x. Purchasing a D3s / D3x would be the all-round answer but of course they don’t come cheap!
But there is a feature that the D300 has (and many other cameras besides) that the D2x does not and that is Live View. Over the 6 months I have come to quite literally, LOVE this feature for close-up photography. Take the scenario below. It’s around 5.45 in the morning and through blurry eyes I scan the grass for chalkhill blue butterflies, the size of a 10 pence piece. Why so early I hear you ask? At this time of the day they are still too cold to move and possibly wet from the nights dew, and if you can find one, you can take as long as you like before the sun rises to compose and take your image. Once the sun’s up, it warms, it’s wings quiver as the blood flows and then it’s off!

Nikon D300, 105mm f2.8 Micro Nikkor, Nikon 3T close-up filter, iso 200, 1/20th sec f8, Manfrotto 055 tripod.
When shooting at such close quarters, it’s absolutely vital to get the camera back (used to be called film-plane) parallel with the most important part of the subject and with this individual, that means the wings, both vertically and horizontally. Depth of field is so small in comparison to shooting landscapes, that unless you do this your images will end up in the recycle bin. Don’t even contemplate firing the shutter until it is sharp across both axes.
Given a sufficient distance between the subject and background and if there isn’t a nagging wind, I would usually use an aperture of f11 or 16 as this would allow me a tiny amount of lee-way. But, there was a nagging breeze and the background was only a few feet away, so a compromise had to be met. Shooting at iso 200, I opted for an aperture of f8 which gave me an all-action-stopping 1/20th sec! Now, this is where Live View really comes into it’s own. I had to be certain that at full aperture the butterfly was sharp on the eye and along the 2 axes of it’s wings. I therefore activated LV and zoomed right in to it’s eye, just as if I were zooming into an image to check it’s sharpness after I had taken it. After focusing on the eye, using the cursor, I then just moved the focusing point to the edges of the wing, checking its sharpness. My first attempt showed that the wing tip was slightly out of focus as it was further back, so I raised the tripod an inch or so which in turn tipped the camera down and brought the wing into sharpness. I repeated the process with zooming the LV until all areas were sharp.
It doesn’t stop there. Aside from sharpness, any wind movement is greatly magnified at such close quarters, so you need to be sure of a dead calm before taking the picture. Rather than straining your eye to see when this is, activate the LV again and zoom in a little where any movement immediately becomes apparent. Cool eh? Unfortunately, as in all things in life, there is a downside. With shutter speeds of around 1/15th sec. and longer and especially when working so close, the sudden de-activation of LV and the slap of the mirror during exposure can cause enough vibration to result in unsharpness. I tested this and it was apparent so I would really only use the technique to see when the wind stops at 1/20th sec. and above. Of course, if you are shooting a stationary subject such as a mushroom, then simply de-activate LV first and better still, if you have it, use mirror lock-up.
There’s probably some of you reading this saying to yourself, “I’ve been doing that for years.” But for those of you that haven’t, it’s a jolly useful technique to have up your sleeve.
So, to conclude, is the slightly inferior image quality that I get when shooting at iso 200 with the D300 worth sacrificing for the benefits of Live View? Definitely! In my book, it’s better to get a tack-sharp image with a bit of grain than it is to have a grain-free out of focus one.
Country Walking
A few months ago I was commissioned by Country Walking magazine to produce a series of images of a walk on Romney Marsh. I was to accompany travel writer, Nick Channer for the day, shooting landscapes but more precisely, to include Nick within the scene looking at things of interest, climbing over stiles, map reading and the like but not for him to be prominent in the frame. The brief was to make Romney Marsh look like an area of wilderness, to be somewhere within an hour of London where you can experience peace and tranquility, amidst a totally unique landscape, full of history.
The day was fine, perfect for this kind of shoot with blue sky and a smattering of clouds. It was really enjoyable too and to think I was being paid for taking pictures whilst walking and chatting, I considered myself to be very lucky indeed. Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t an amble. we covered close to 10 miles that day and I shot around 300 images, which of course, then needed to be edited and processed. I kept the amount of gear I carried down to a minimum. The majority of the shots were taken with a Nikon D300, 12-24mm and 70-200mm with polarisers. No tripod since we were constantly on the move and a more journalistic approach was required on this occasion. The article is out now in the August issue where they have dedicated 6 pages to the piece and will be avaiable to read very soon on the publications page on my website.
Sunrise
I had to share this sunrise with you. The forecast was for cloud and sun first thing which can be perfect for sunrises. Clear mornings are all well and good if you want to shoot wildlife images where you often need decent light, but for landscapes there’s nothing like having interesting clouds to make an image, especially at sunrise and sunset. Clear mornings yield nothing more than a blue sky and within 15 minutes, that’s it. The sun’s risen and the moment has gone. But with some cloud cover, sunrise lingers considerably longer. Once at the location all you have to do is find something interesting to complement it such as a reflection or silhouette. Clouds are tinged with orange and red and the spectacle is very much worth the early rise.
As I parked the car and ran the 100m or so to where I wanted to take the shot (yes, I got there a little late!), I noticed a cow wandering toward me, which, as it got closer, turned out to be a bull. I was just to the side of its path. To get back to the car I would have had to run toward the bull. It looked rather cantankerous, swaying its head from side to side and making low moaning noises. Cattle are not to be underestimated, as has been documented over the last few months. I felt pretty nervous I can tell you. The only place I could go if it charged was in the water. These are not the kind of thoughts you expect at 4.30 in the morning. Anyway, it ambled past me and I got my pictures. Apparently, this particular individual was just roaming around the marsh keeping away from the alpha bull as it were, who, a week earlier had cornered a fireman at a local barn fire!
South Downs 1:1
A very enjoyable day yesterday was spent holding a one to one. We met at Alfriston then headed off in my car to several locations centered around the Cuckmere valley. The location was chosen as it gives a range of opportunities to illustrate techniques within a relatively small area. Total time spent from one location to another never exceeded 10 minutes. The picture below was taken to illustrate how to ’anchor’ the image. To give it foreground interest where your eye then leads through the frame to the distant cliffs. Without the rock it would have been rather uninteresting of just the beach, pebbles and cliffs. I then processed it in black and white since in colour I felt it was too monotone whereas in monochrome it brought out the textures and contrast of the chalk and seaweed.
Silhouette
Yesterday evening was my first attempt at photographing rabbits in silhouette. I was quite happy with my images from past sessions where they were lit from the front but this time I wanted to try something a little different.
The trickiest part is finding a location where the rabbits are likely to come out of their burrows and feed on a rise against the setting sun. Fortunately, this particular location, on the marshes, has a very high rabbit population with a number of holes in such a position. But, you can never be certain where they, like any other animal, will turn up and pose in just the right position. It was very much a trial run then as I lay flat on the ground, once again donned head to toe in camo with the camera on a bean-bag.
I could see movement all around and as luck would have it, several did appear in almost the right position. I would have liked more colour in the sky and this is certainly a project I’ll be returning to over the coming weeks and months. As the evening drew on, the mosquitoes became more active and attempted to search for any uncovered skin, which was just my eyelids. Funny, how you find yourself blinking like crazy trying to get them off not daring to swish them away!
Sundew
I’d hoped for a decent sunrise but alas this never happened, so, after wiping the sleep from my eyes, decided to concentrate on a beautiful, though difficult to photograph, insectivorous plant, the common or round-leaved sundew.
There are 3 species in the UK, the aforementioned being the smallest and most common, the oblong or long-leaved and the great sundew. All 3 are most common in northern England and Scotland though they are also found on southern heaths, notably the New Forest.
Sundews are fascinating plants and have evolved their carnivorous behaviour in response to their habitat which is generally very acidic and poor in nutrients. An insect such as a midge or fly is attracted by its bright colours but then gets stuck on its glue-like droplets at the end of its hair-like tendrils. The sundew then, slowly curls and digests the softer parts of the insect letting the remainder fall to the side. It gets its name by the dew-like droplets that glisten in the sun.
They are very easy to find at Hothfield Common and form splashes of vibrant red amongst the equally vibrant sphagnum moss. But, to shoot the individual leaves you have to get really close. Not just close, REALLY close. The images here are uncropped and shot using a NIkon D300 with a 105mm micro lens at it’s closest focus (1:2 or half life-size) PN-11 (52.5mm) extension tube and Nikon 5T 2 element diopter close-up filter. Other than the image showing the full plant, I was only about 5 inches away. This is when a sound technique really comes to the fore. Don’t rush, take your time. The plant isn’t going to run away! Use a tripod, focus carefully, use mirror lock-up if you have it and use a remote release. The tiniest amount of vibration or inaccurate focusing will show up hugely at such a high magnification.
Hothfield Common
A 3.15 alarm call and a half hour drive took me to a favourite reserve near Ashford this morning. I’ve been visiting this site on and off for close to 20 years now though the last time I did any photography was probably 5 years ago. It’s the kind of habitat that yields the best opportunities for photography in late spring and summer when such plants as common sundew, heath-spotted orchid, bog asphodel and heather are in bloom as well as the many insects that inhabit the heath. These include leafhoppers, damselflies, dragonflies (including the scarce keeled skimmer) and sand wasps.
Hothfield Common covers an area of approximately 150 acres making it Kent’s largest area of acid heathland. As you would imaging, it is generally an open space of heath with lowland valley bogs and around the perimeter, woodland of predominantly birch with some mature beech to the south.

Cotton grass. Another stitched panorama. This technique is perfect for this kind of image when the interest lies across a single plane when foreground and background interest become irrelevant.
Due to the invasion of such species as bracken and birch leading to the loss of the heathland habitat, certain measures were necessary to reduce this risk and consequently highland cattle and Koniks are now a feature.
Hothfield Common really is a great place for everyone. There’s a large car park and trails of varying distance and even a road-side snack bar! Be warned however, with the current hot weather we are experiencing, come prepared with a hat and sun cream or if you prefer, like me, get yourself there at dawn. Trust me, it’s worth it.
Water crowfoot
There’s been an explosion of water crowfoot this year across the North Kent Marshes. It’s an incredible sight and in all the years that I have visited this area, have never seen so much. Every ditch, rill and shallow pool is smothered with this beautiful little flower.
The first part of it’s Latin name, Ranunculus, is rather apt for this plant as it means, little frog, due I guess to the fact that it’s found near or in water.
The images above were used without a tripod, something I hardly ever do. However, there are times when it simply isn’t practical. For both I had to lie down overhanging the water, using a right-angle finder and a 12-24mm lens. As the scene was very bright, even though it was only 6.15 in the morning, I could use a small aperture coupled with a reasonably fast shutter speed. A polarising filter helped eliminate specular reflections from the foliage, water and deepen the blue sky.
This one however, taken at sunset with a 300mm f2.8 lens, absolutely required a tripod. A perfectly calm evening was necessary to get the mirror like reflection.
























