Seeing the Ralph Meatyard video earlier I was motivated enough to get off my wuss ass and go do some more hedge photography, even though I had decided enough was enough with that series. It's not as if anyone apart from Noam Chomsky has given the pictures the time of day - (but if anyone was to, I'm more than happy that it was him... he was probably only being polite, though). The rest of the world was proving perfectly capable of carrying on without the need for hedge photographs. Well mine, anyway.
There's a hill to the south of town that has to be ascended to get out to the airbase a few miles beyond where these particular hedges reside. Last year I could cycle half way up that hill but this year, probably due to unpublicised earth movements, it has now become almost vertical and so I stop at the bottom, strap my bike to my back and scale a cliff face. I suppose it makes sense building an airfield up there beyond, as it would be nearer the sky. As it is the Reaper drones controlled there operate over landscapes 6,000 miles away, maintaining surveillance and performing lethal strikes remotely, year after year, and probably forever.
It turned out that in the space of a week the leaves had mostly gone and the hedges had been cut back. The sun wasn't out all the time so some standing around was required having a runny nose and cold fingers. In-camera panoramics involve pressing the shutter and pivoting the camera body as a succession of frames are taken and stitched together. The sun was out for the top when I started this first one but had gone in by the bottom half. The three clouds in the distance were more than I could have hoped for. I've been a bit crazy about clouds on the horizon this year.
For the first time a patrol vehicle saw me and came to investigate. I was in a different head-space than usual, and felt I could cope with whatever happened so I just carried on taking pictures anyway and after stopping close by and watching me for a while they left without giving me any hassle. Every time I've been there I have often imagined being questioned and worried about trying to articulate what the hell I was doing. I presumed any conversation would probably not end all that satisfactorily. A year ago, the first few times I went, I was scared, but not today. Maybe because it was my last hedge photographing day. And how many times can anyone photograph the same hedges and it still offer some possibility anyway?
Probably a whole lot more, actually.
There's a hill to the south of town that has to be ascended to get out to the airbase a few miles beyond where these particular hedges reside. Last year I could cycle half way up that hill but this year, probably due to unpublicised earth movements, it has now become almost vertical and so I stop at the bottom, strap my bike to my back and scale a cliff face. I suppose it makes sense building an airfield up there beyond, as it would be nearer the sky. As it is the Reaper drones controlled there operate over landscapes 6,000 miles away, maintaining surveillance and performing lethal strikes remotely, year after year, and probably forever.
It turned out that in the space of a week the leaves had mostly gone and the hedges had been cut back. The sun wasn't out all the time so some standing around was required having a runny nose and cold fingers. In-camera panoramics involve pressing the shutter and pivoting the camera body as a succession of frames are taken and stitched together. The sun was out for the top when I started this first one but had gone in by the bottom half. The three clouds in the distance were more than I could have hoped for. I've been a bit crazy about clouds on the horizon this year.
For the first time a patrol vehicle saw me and came to investigate. I was in a different head-space than usual, and felt I could cope with whatever happened so I just carried on taking pictures anyway and after stopping close by and watching me for a while they left without giving me any hassle. Every time I've been there I have often imagined being questioned and worried about trying to articulate what the hell I was doing. I presumed any conversation would probably not end all that satisfactorily. A year ago, the first few times I went, I was scared, but not today. Maybe because it was my last hedge photographing day. And how many times can anyone photograph the same hedges and it still offer some possibility anyway?
Probably a whole lot more, actually.
(& when the light stayed the same)