Australian Winter Sea

This frame was captured a few days over fourteen years ago, on July 7^th 2012, during a coastal walk with friends. This is essentially midwinter in Australia, cold and sharp, but one of those bright, clear days when the place looks and feels so different. The day I post this is very much the same, with bright sun inviting a walk momentarily. This view looks over the Gulf St Vincent, westward from the Adelaide foreshore, though I don’t recall exactly where on the coast we were at the time. A simple snap—but the horizon is level without fine rotation, something of a miracle for me in those days! Minor adjustments to colour, contrast and sharpness in Irfanview; Fuji FinePix S5600. Image by Mike.

 

Catching the Ephemeral

Nothing is more changeable than the sky, and and nothing more fleeting than rainbows. When they appear, you shoot, and sometimes the result is excellent. I grabbed this one from the Westfield mall at Marion, South Australia, on May 24^th, 2012. I was probably on my way home from the university, as I was at the bus stops serving the route, and living close by at the time. I often carried the camera for opportunistic shooting in those days, and got many interesting studies of the sky and buildings. This storm went through in the afternoon, leaving a strong rainbow to the east, and I was able to shoot a whole sequence. Here, the rush of traffic on Sturt Road creates the business of human occupation, while the rainbow is the hand of nature, oblivious of human doing—a dichotomy I always enjoy. This is perhaps the most careful framing of the effect in the shoot, with telephoto employed to compress the perspective between the foreground and the rainbow. Minor adjustments to colour, contrast and sharpness in Irfanview; Fuji FinePix S5600. Image by Mike.

The Grand Old Institution

 

This is the Natural History Museum, on Cromwell Rd. in London, which from the outside still looks much as it did when it opened in April, 1881. Brainchild of Sir Richard Owen, that “Count Dracula” of palaeontology, it has always been one of the leading institutions of its kind in the world. I photographed it on November 1^st, 2010, on my third UK trip; this was the second time I visited London’s South Kensington museum district, and it was also the last time I had the chance to do so. Distance and cost are relentless, after all. I was really under the weather on that trip, so was unable to appreciate the sights as they deserved—still, I brought home the pictures, and I have them to this day. This is a simple street snap, but at least I managed to hold the camera square! I remember the sun being so low in the sky, despite a late morning time, that most of the street was in deep shadow. Minor adjustments to colour, contrast and sharpness in Irfanview; Fuji FinePix S5600. Image by Mike.

Urban Jungle

This is the redeveloped east of London, after the old, blighted areas leftover from Victorian times were finally swept away. I took this photograph through a train window—the Docklands Light Railway—on my way to Greenwich, back in November, 2007, on my second England trip. It was early in the day, as I recall, and things were very quiet in the new residential areas that used to be London’s busy docks. Now they’re trendy marinas, and the old days of empire are a distant memory. Note a few reflection in the glass. The redevelopment of the East End was extensive, and what were the haunts of the poor in the days of Sherlock Holmes are now the home of the well-to-do. Nothing clever in this shot, just keeping it square (no fine rotation required) and managing the reflections to a minimum. Minor adjustments to colour, contrast and sharpness in Irfanview; Fuji FinePix S5600. Image by Mike.

 

Gold and Grey

Sometimes the image comes together with the right lighting angle and the right time of day, to make the most of a simple subject. This was taken through a train window (note the faint reflection of a vertical surface at the top of the frame) in November, 2007, on my second UK trip, in the Esk Valley, Yorkshire, as I was relocating from Whitby to Sunderland for the NEICN conference at the university. The hour was not late but the sun angle at that time of year certainly is, creating an evening feel, though there would be several hours of daylight remaining. The sun angle created a “golden hour” effect early in the day, and with the light falling on the autumn hillside the grey clouds beyond make for the perfect contrast. There seems little way to plan for such scenes when on the move—the opportunistic photographer just grabs them when they happen. Minor adjustments to colour, contrast and sharpness in Irfanview; Fuji FinePix S5600. Image by Mike.

 

Afternoon Light on Whitby Harbour

Nothing complex about this frame, just a plain view across the harbour of a seaside town in Yorkshire. What makes it interesting is the detail—of water, of craft, of the background houses, and the low sun behind the POV. That’s a scaled down replica of Cook’s Endeavour, historically tied to Whitby, where the young James Cook worked in the mid-1700s. The focus was good, I held the shot straight (no rotational correction was needed), and managed to catch the essence of the place, as it felt, on that evening—7^th of November, 2010. Minor adjustments to colour, contrast and sharpness in Irfanview; Fuji FinePix S5600. Image by Mike.

 

Servicing the Giant

A scene enacted countless times since the dawn of commercial aviation, ground crews prepare an airliner for its next flight. Machines have their own innate appeal, and when juxtaposed with the natural world are a poignant metaphor for humans cutting their own furrow alongside, or at right angles to, nature. I took this frame as part of a series at Singapore’s Changi International Airport in November 2011, on my way back from my fourth UK expedition. This was an equatorial evening, and home beckoned at the end of one more long leg in the air. The sun is not quite gone—there was some gold about sixty degrees of arc to the left, but “blue hour” was certainly arriving. This is the Qantas Airbus A-380 Reginald Ansett, named for one of Australia’s commercial aviation pioneers. The photo was taken through plate glass from the terminal, with the usual gymnastics to keep the interior lights from reflecting in the frame. Minor adjustments to colour, contrast and sharpness in Irfanview; Fuji FinePix S5600. Image by Mike.

 

The Appeal of the Machine

Aircraft have a beautiful symmetry created by their aerodynamics. They must flow through the air as the air flows over them, the very embodiment of the laws of fluid mechanics. Here is an A400M Atlas of the RAF, photographed at the RAAF Edinburgh airshow, 10th November, 2019, and the sheer size of the aircraft, dwarfing the personnel and spectators, is a delightful commentary on all things mechanical. Machines can be big, which frequently offers aesthetic appeal, and when matched to their symmetries and grace makes for a certain emotional appeal. The craft is like a great bird—serving the humans who created it, in a poetical sense. A simple photo, it exploits the size of the craft to frame the image, with the machine dwarfing the people below. You could read all sorts of romantic of psychological notions into such imagery, if you were inclined. I just think it’s a dynamic picture! Minor adjustments to colour, contrast and sharpness in Irfanview; Fuji FinePix S5600. Image by Mike.

 

Tree & Sea—Sunset Perspective

A simple telephoto shot, part of a long sequence documenting sunset on May 2^nd, 2022. Taken from the carpark on Range Road, above the Adelaide plain, the alignment of the sun with the trees and nearby power pylons created some interesting silhouettes. One would not think so many frames of essentially the dame material would create so many aesthetically different choices, but they do! I featured a frame from this shoot once before, quite a way back. Minor adjustments to colour, contrast and sharpness in Irfanview; Fuji FinePix S5600. Image by Mike.

 

Industry by the Sea

Here’s a simple but illustrative snap, taken on July 21^st, 2017. This is the Cape Jervis ferry terminal, looking across Backstairs Passage to Kangaroo Island, showing one of the big Sealink boats that provide the regular back-and-forth traffic between mainland South Australia and it’s offshore suburbs. I remember the day being bright and very windy—no wonder I needed to straighten up the image with fine rotation to a considerable degree: I was likely being seriously buffeted. The ship and the vehicles make a textured, mechanical panorama for the foreground, while the clear sky and wide horizon to the island create a natural backdrop—the juxtaposition of the built environment and the wild, the human-made and the natural. Minor adjustments to colour, contrast and sharpness in Irfanview; Fuji FinePix S5600. Image by Mike.

 

Tree Bark and Seed Heads

This is such a simple image, but an artistic one. The frame is filled with nature—living systems from side to side. I took this frame as part if a shoot at Byards Wetlands, South Australia, on August 20^th, 2025, and my eye was caught first by the lighting angle, back-lighting the seed heads of the reeds, then by the organic patterning of the tree bark. Bringing them together was a matter of choosing the angle to exclude any hint of other background—and there it is, an earth-toned panorama of life in the dusty warmth of an Australian spring.

I’ve been focused on work these last few weeks, so will post a few pictures in quick succession.

Minor adjustments to colour, contrast and sharpness in Irfanview; Poco M5. Image by Mike.

Gnarled Giant

Just a forest photo, but look at the shape of that tree... The Australian eucalypt is one of these trees able to take on any shape at all, as determined by the conditions in which it grows, and this one was growing from a steep bank in a gully. It reaches for the light one way, water the other, and creates such a remarkable shape. One would imagine an artist had been extravagant in the layout of a work for dramatic effect, but such things are common in the endless variation of gum tree morphology. However, what really makes the picture is the sun angle—the degree of backlighting, the way it shines through the foreground and understorey vegetation, silhouetting the tree—that's where the art happens. I took this shot on the walk through to Ingalalla Falls, down on the Fleurieu Peninsula, on August 12^th, 2017. Minor adjustments to colour, contrast and sharpness in Irfanview; Fuji FinePix S5600. Image by Mike.