Tag: night photography

March 1st – For me now is the time of the half-light. My morning commutes are well into light now, and most welcome that is; but evening commutes are mostly on the cusp of day and night, light and dark, optimism and pessimism. 

This commute started in a grey, overcast light with a strong tailwind and and the threat of rain that arrived as I rode the canal back to Brownhills. The sky though, transformed from a grey murk into a remarkable, beautiful, luminous blue which captivated me.

Even though it was raining, I couldn’t miss capturing this.

Within 10 minutes, the light had died and night had fully fallen – but I was so glad I caught the moment.

February 24th – The end of a very long, hard week. This week, I’ve worked a lot of hours, and found myself fighting the elements and often returning home late and tired.

I don’t mind the work, as I’m lucky enough to really enjoy my job, and being busy at this time of year is good as it makes those last, hard weeks of winter pass quickly.

But right now, as I crested the Black Cock bridge and looked down towards Camden Street, I could do with a break.

I’m knackered and I’m worn out!

February 20th – I passed through Wednesbury late, a town I often pass through but rarely stop in, which is a shame as it’s a great place. On this dark, mild evening it was still busy, and the lights and interesting buildings made for an inviting, busy urban scene.

I must explore this place more.

February 12th – The fug continued throughout Sunday. Throughout the day, drizzle, sleet and snow, and the persistent, cursed absence of proper light. It was like someone had switched hope and optimism off. I found the day oppressive; I was caged, and I hate that. Hemmed in by the weather and a worsening mood.

I slipped out in the early evening to pop something over to a mate in Walsall Wood. A laugh and a shared moan about the lost weekend made things better. I returned to Brownhills, still in steady, cold drizzle, lifted, but still lost.

Bad weather will test even the greatest optimist.

February 10th – I had another reason to be in Shenstone, which meant making a call in the village itself, which is always charming after dark – even the hideous clock looks better when you can see the face illuminated rather than the horridly crude brickwork. I loved the shop in Main Street which was almost Dickensian, and the Railway pub, which always looks so warm and inviting.

I stopped, and thought about it: but where I really wanted to be was home. So I put the camera away, and rode off wearily into the wind.

February 10th – After a cold and unpleasant morning commute, and subsequent trip into Birmingham during the day, I returned via the Cross City to Shenstone, my favourite of all night time railway station. Except that when I alighted, it wasn’t quite night yet; there were still fingers of daylight on the cloud-cover and the combination of natural and electric night was rather wonderful.

Glad I made it to Friday, was touch and go for a bit…

February 9th – The end of a long day. This week hasn’t been easy and I’ll be glad when Friday ends. The first couple of months of the year are always hard but January was particularly cruel. I’m welcoming the gradual return to light, and the generally brighter, colder weather is much better than the murky damp of last week.

Bu my goodness, work had been demanding of late.

Rolling downhill from Shire Oak to Brownhills with no energy left in the tank, I was exhausted, tired and hungry. I think I need a holiday. Already.

February 6th – A great, frosty and beautiful dawn which although out in, I didn’t manage to capture as I was running late and couldn’t stop. By sometime, though, the weather had turned – raining and windy, it was a horrid ride home. 

I stopped on the Anchor Bridge for a breather and to adjust my clothes. It was a truly horrible journey and I felt wet, cold and uncomfortable.

It’s not often the working day is bracketed by such wildly differing commutes. But I’m glad that one’s over, for sure.

February 5th – Long exposure experiments I’m not entirely happy with, taken from the A5 bypass flyover at Jerry’s Lane, Packington and the Alan Woollatt bridge over the A38 at Thickbroom.

For some reason these aren’t as sharp as my earlier experiments and I’m not sure why. The wiggle of the road as it winds up Rock Hill was also not as evident as I would have hoped.

I need more practice, and maybe to read a manual or two…