….and today that’s where it’s very firmly staying! It’s currently blowing a gale out there as we speak, Storm Brendan is making it’s presence felt to say the least. I certainly don’t intend to be out in it, no, the camera can languish in the depths of the bag today. I’m currently chained ( not literally of course ) to the radiator watching small birds being blown and bowled and blown along at near supersonic speed on the wind. Only the desperate or the foolhardy would actively want to be out there this afternoon.

Tomorrow , so I’m led to believe, will bring us more of the same, heaven only knows what I’ll manage to come up with to illustrate what will be issue 337, I’m now down into the last leg, just short of another month and this self imposed challenge will be no more, I will be done with it. Then I guess I’ll have to find myself another challenge to occupy my wanderings. I do wonder if it might have been easier had I started a littler later in the year when the weather is likely to be kinder to us though given the British weather there would always have been barren times wouldn’t there, it goes without saying.

That’s true of all photography it seems and in this case the light’s a little bit bright at the very nearest point, it gets more subtle from the second tie along but without a little help and some extra light from my flash gun I’d have had little more than a silhouette of the rail in this shot looking into the sun. Apparently it’s all a balancing act between the ambient light and the strength of the flash, it seems that you’re never too old to learn, though how much of it I’ll retain is another matter entirely. As the saying goes ‘ you can lead a horse to water but you can’t make him drink’.

I’m the least technical person I know in charge of a camera, in fact the camera is often in charge of me I think and beyond the simple essentials of getting the lens cap off and pointing the thing in the right direction the intricacies are lost on me to a great degree, I often wonder if I barely scratch the capabilities of my particular model. I marvel at the results some of my compatriots achieve and wonder if the difference is due to better equipment or greater knowledge but the technical side of things holds little or no interest to me.

I am very definitely a ‘ right side of the brain’ person, the side that, oddly enough, covers the left side of the body but also the artistic, creative aspects of personality and ability. Not for me science or maths thank you very much, rather more a pencil and a piece of paper man myself, having said that I’ve just consulted the oracle that is ‘ Google’ only to find that there is thinking that says the ‘left brain, right brain’ theory is a myth and that the brain is capable of utilising both hemispheres to create a result. I can only say that leaves me more confused than ever, as I said in the beginning, ‘It’s all about the light’, there are times when I wish someone would turn it on for me.

I had plans for this morning, nurtured all week, thoughts of trying something new and producing something dramatic. Well, you know what they say about the best laid plans, it all went to pot almost as soon as it started. I ventured out to my chosen location, got out of the car….and promptly got straight back in again, what a North Sea fisherman might describe as a freshening breeze felt something akin to a force 8 gale on the Beaufort Scale. I decided that being perched on the side of a Dorset hillside snapping icicles off my nose and out of my eyebrows while taking photo’s could wait for another day thank you very much.

I retired gracefully to another location on the other side of the hill and sheltered from the icy blast by both the hill itself and the forest, a much more appealing prospect let me tell you. I wandered a track that I’d driven last summer, a narrow, twisting track that winds it’s way up through the edge of the woodland finally culminating at a house with a marvelous view back down the valley that I’d just climbed out of. As a track it was a much better walk than it had been as a drive, the carraigeway is barely a car’s width in places and there are no passing points. If you meet anything coming the other way the only option is backwards.

Today, and on foot, the only other soul I saw was the postman and our paths crossed on a number of occasions as he delivered the mail and I trudged up the hillside, finally he departed, his round complete in that part of the neighbourhood and I was left with the relative peace. I say relative peace because although I was reasonably sheltered at ground level the wind higher up the valley and in the trees above whistled and howled as it blew through and down the valley, roaring past and between the bare boughs as it went. The trees that had been in full leaf on my last visit were tall, straight and devoid of any vestige of cover at all. I expect my next visit here will be well into the year, it’ll be interesting to see how the landscape changes with the seasons, I would imagine that the only constant in the equation will be the force 8 freshening breeze.

…….Head for The River! There’s something elemental about water and high places, I’ve probably alluded to as much before, and as a species it seems that we’re irresistibly drawn to such locations, it certainly seems to be true on a personal level. If all else fails to provide me with inspiration I either head for the hills or wander along the river bank.

And so it was this afternoon, knowing I wanted a photo for today’s little epistle, and not wanting to trek far, I plumped again for a favourite location , the Wilson Haines river bridge over the Stour at Shillingstone. It’s a location I’ve admired in the work of another local photographer and it’s become a firm favourite of mine as well, not only for it’s aesthetic qualities, in my personal opinion, but also for it’s contemplative qualities. Standing here on the bridge or the banks as the river flows slowly and silently past while the sun and the sky light up Hambledon Hill’s south facing flanks it’s easy to lose track of time in the peace and quiet of the Dorset countryside.

I could, and probably should, make the effort and attempt to capture the beauty of the Jurassic coastline nearby or rise before dawn and trek the arduous paths up the hills adjacent to Corfe Castle and capture the ruins in the first light of the day. I should get down to Swanage and photograph the iconic structure of the old pier at day break or visit the coast at Portland and capture the Red Crane, Pulpit Rock or Portland Bill lighthouse, all within a relatively short drive away and , at some stage , I probably will but for now I’m quite content to wander the meadows down to the banks of the sleepy old Stour and watch the world go by.

Yesterday was a busy day, so much so that the opportunity to post didn’t really occur, out relatively early and back under cover of darkness meant that there wasn’t time to meander the meadows or the woods in search of any photographic inspiration unfortunately.

Today, however, was a different kettle of fish as they say and this morning saw me up and about relatively early with the express intention of getting out and capturing a sunrise should one occur. You might note that sunrise this morning was timed to take place at 08:10hrs, so, relatively early wasn’t too early, hardly a crack of dawn 04:00hrs experience thank goodness.

For all of that, and my good intentions, I was undone, not by my timekeeping for once but because there was little or no sunrise to shout about. True, there was a little colour in the sky and, yes, there was a rip in the cloud cover but it didn’t produce anything vivid or breath taking, it was more of a slow burn. I wandered the muddy footpaths and walked across the flooded fields more in hope than expectation and the glimmer of light on the River Stour where the road bridge crosses the river on Haywards Lane at Shillingstone was as good as things got for me this morning.

Well, if I thought yesterday was gloomy then today excelled itself and was positively grim, and that despite a beautiful sky at daybreak, things went downhill all the way afterwards. For all of that I was full of hope that if I was out there I might catch something….it’ll probably be something medical, like a cold bordering on pneumonia.

I subscribe to the theory that the’s always something to photograph, you just have to find a way to manipulate the situation, the scenery and the light to your will, the theory was sorely put to the test this afternoon in the damp and the gloom. Without a little light us photographers struggle to say the least, coupled with the rain it wasn’t pleasant to say the least and the mud was everywhere, it certainly didn’t make for a very inspirational trip out.

That said, I survived, though I have to admit to taking very few shots today. I did however notice the beginnings of new growth in several locations, the catkins are out, the snowdrops are blooming, the colour is returning to the countryside and before long the annual miracle will begin to turn the trees and the hedgerows from their current greys and browns back to green although, at the moment, that’s still some way off.

Prague is calling. It’s a city we both love, filled with both the ancient and the modern, art, architecture and history, there’s something for everyone and it’s easy to see why it’s so attractive to so many. If you haven’t visited yet make the effort, you won’t be disappointed, at the end of the month we’ll be making another visit. This is the earliest visit in the year that we’ll have made, albeit very marginally, and it would be wonderful to see the city blanketed in snow, I have my fingers crossed, or even frost. I can only imagine it would look magical.

It’s a thought that’s far from the reality of a gloomy Dorset afternoon, you’d never think that the winter solstice has passed and the days are lengthening, stretching out towards the Spring and the inevitable Summer, this morning I’ve noticed the snowdrops here in the garden already in bloom, their little white flowers bright against the brown stems of everything else. A walk last week up through the beech avenue at Hinton St. Mary also revealed the beginnings of crocus and daffodil peaking out from the leaf litter, the year is stirring, slowly.

This afternoon’s cold wind and rain has curtailed any thoughts of a walk, instead it’s been an afternoon for comfort eating, coffee and anticipating the coming adventure, the candle in today’s shot only helped to emphasise the gloomy weather, we haven’t experienced a power cut it only seems like it. Come on weather , do us all a favour and pick up a bit please.

I haven’t been down to Shillingstone station for about 6 months, well, I might have visited but I haven’t photographed anything of meaning or worth, nor, it seems, have I posted anything from here lately. I always used to call this the station that kept on giving, every visit afforded me something to shoot and because the railway project was relatively slow growing I was often able to wander freely and unfettered, access to all areas wasn’t too much of a problem. Sadly, from my point of view, the success of the project now means that those freedoms have dried up, areas that were readily accessible are now fenced and padlocked, I would imagine that Health and Safety and Insurance have seen fit to end my days of wandering freely, after all, as a ’60 something’ adult I’m hardly able to risk assess a situation and decide whether or not I should or should not be doing something it seems.

It’s not difficult to understand the logic of the project management team, best prevent any issue rather than have to deal with the fallout when someone injures themselves, irrespective of whether they should have been in a location or not. It’s also not difficult to understand the thinking when volunteer staff returned after the Christmas break to find that their hard work in maintaining rolling stock and trackside furniture had been undone by individuals armed with a spray can and an inability to spell. The ‘Shillingstone Posy’ as opposed to ‘posse’ had spray tagged the dining car and a number of other sites around the station, I can only imagine that they’d be a fearsome band of desperado’s should they ever learn to spell!

In and age where the cost of rail travel rather than rail service, it’s hard to call it a service as where else would you pay to travel and be prepared to be treated like cattle for the priviledge , increases annually, rail franchises fail and the cost of the latest upgrade, the much vaunted HS2, is spiralling out of control without so much as a rail being laid as yet little country stations from the past such as Shillingstone offer an insight to a different age. Long gone but fondly remembered by many it seems, attested to by the number of such railway heritage projects up and down the country, the age of steam isn’t dead, the fire in the boiler hasn’t entirely been extinguished, it seems that one of the biggest dangers they face nowadays is that of the inarticulate armed with spray paint.

Today’s been a mixed bag to say the least. Up at the crack of dawn and off to Dorchester for Helen’s appointment at the eye hospital saw us watching the sun desperately trying to break through the cloud cover as we drove the top road above Cerne Abbas and the ‘Giant’ and as we approached Charminster it finally succeeded, bathing the hills and valleys in it’s golden glow, brightening the day , filling it with promise.

The, almost, two hour wait to be seen at the eye clinic dampened the euphoria of the bright start slightly and the short drive to Poundbury dampened things even further as the clouds rolled in and the drizzle fell. Fortunately after suitable refreshments had been found the weather improved and the return leg of our journey was a mixture of sunshine and showers, much as the weather forecast had indicated, our route back on the low road through Cerne Abbas began with promise and petered out by the time we arrived in Sherborne but we managed to wander the town in the dry and only on the way back to the car did the drizzle begin again.

By the time we’d returned to Sturminster the rain had cleared again and a snap decision to drive the short distance to Okeford Hill with the camera in the hope of a sunset was made and off I set. Sadly the sunset never really materialised, the sun dropped down behind a fairly solid bank of cloud sitting low on the western horizon and steadfastly refused to light what cloud cover there was to any degree though all was not lost. Looking back to the east the moon was riding high in the sky and the curve in the lane leading to Okeford Bike Park, complete with puddles, offered me an opportunity to capture something at least. At the end of the drive sat one of the mountain bike riders, waiting for a lift home from one parent or the other after a day of riding the trails, he kindly allowed me to photograph him against the receding sun, the colour of his helmet mimicking the sunset that never really happened . Despite the conditions failing to live up to my expectations I’d been rewarded to a degree, as usual there’s always something to be photographed even if it doesn’t seem obvious at first glance.

This year is a Leap Year, we get the extra day, which means that instead of attempting to carry this writing malarkey on for 365 days I now find that I’ll have to find an additional days inspiration. I have noticed this afternoon that the current tally is up to 326 which means, dear reader, that in approximately 6 weeks I shall have accomplished my personal challenge. Has my photography improved, have my literary skills advanced? Both matters may be entirely subjective, I still have time , and probably room, for improvement.

All the above aside I have actually managed to get out this morning, though I had my doubts early on when the rain was hammering against the windows. The clouds have broken, the rain has stopped and the sunshine has returned, so much so that we might even get some semblance of a sunset this evening, though I’m not sure that I can be tempted out again this afternoon, one can have too much of a good thing don’t you know. My mid morning walk up to Hinton St Mary and through the beech avenue set me up admirably for lunch and afforded me one or two photo’s with which to illustrate these few words, my work here is done for today.