Chiaroscuro
Nov. 20th, 2008 08:14 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
shewhomustOut walking on Sunday, for the first time in far too long. It was fine enough that we took sandwiches, despite it being November; but changeable enough that our planned route was in Hamsterley Forest (familiar territory, good paths, seats to sit on while eating those sandwiches). ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
durham_rambler proposed what he called a "twiddle" to lengthen the route a little, along the Bedburn and then up, to enter the forest from the far end - and, as happens, the twiddle was half the length of the walk. But it was pleasant walking, up the green valley side and out onto the moor, and the paths were good, if a little wet underfoot - in fact the only really difficult stretch came when we were back on known tracks, descending into the forest down great ruts that had been torn open, from the look of them, by tracked vehicles and torrential rain.
Sunday was fine, though, brilliant sunshine appearing suddenly from behind a cloud and highlighting some detail of the landscape: the red roof of a farm, a group of sheep, the trunks of silver birches in the woods along the field edge. I was thinking about how sundials are not the alone in counting only the sunny hours, how I'm much more likely to take photographs when the sun is shining. Which is foolish, because strong light and shade are so difficult to photograph: a shadow which the eye discounts becomes a sharp divide across a photograph. I know this, I was reflecting on this, and still at the end of the day, when I looked at the pictures I'd taken, the camera had repeatedly failed to see what I'd seen - or rather, had taken what I'd seen and damped down its brightness. The sheep grazing under the trees did not flare bright against the green hillside, the pine forest whose boundary ran parallel to Stanhope Lane was not framed by the muted shades of the dry stone wall but outlined in black by the silhouette of wall and tree. Even the snap I had taken from the footbridge across the Bedburn, where I had remembered the light falling in slices of black and white across the water - even that was toned down.
By the time we returned to the car it was dusk, and we drove home through a dove grey twilight shading to a soft rosy sunset - which would have been delightful except that it was just after four o' clock. How did the days get so short, and the shortest day still a month off? Back in Durham, the Christmas lights had been turned on.
durham_rambler proposed what he called a "twiddle" to lengthen the route a little, along the Bedburn and then up, to enter the forest from the far end - and, as happens, the twiddle was half the length of the walk. But it was pleasant walking, up the green valley side and out onto the moor, and the paths were good, if a little wet underfoot - in fact the only really difficult stretch came when we were back on known tracks, descending into the forest down great ruts that had been torn open, from the look of them, by tracked vehicles and torrential rain.Sunday was fine, though, brilliant sunshine appearing suddenly from behind a cloud and highlighting some detail of the landscape: the red roof of a farm, a group of sheep, the trunks of silver birches in the woods along the field edge. I was thinking about how sundials are not the alone in counting only the sunny hours, how I'm much more likely to take photographs when the sun is shining. Which is foolish, because strong light and shade are so difficult to photograph: a shadow which the eye discounts becomes a sharp divide across a photograph. I know this, I was reflecting on this, and still at the end of the day, when I looked at the pictures I'd taken, the camera had repeatedly failed to see what I'd seen - or rather, had taken what I'd seen and damped down its brightness. The sheep grazing under the trees did not flare bright against the green hillside, the pine forest whose boundary ran parallel to Stanhope Lane was not framed by the muted shades of the dry stone wall but outlined in black by the silhouette of wall and tree. Even the snap I had taken from the footbridge across the Bedburn, where I had remembered the light falling in slices of black and white across the water - even that was toned down.By the time we returned to the car it was dusk, and we drove home through a dove grey twilight shading to a soft rosy sunset - which would have been delightful except that it was just after four o' clock. How did the days get so short, and the shortest day still a month off? Back in Durham, the Christmas lights had been turned on.
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no subject
Date: 2008-11-21 05:36 am (UTC)Even so, it is a beautiful photograph.
no subject
Date: 2008-11-21 10:27 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-11-21 08:39 pm (UTC)I think the words give a hint.
Finally catching up...
Date: 2008-11-29 06:50 pm (UTC)Re: Finally catching up...
Date: 2008-11-30 07:22 pm (UTC)