If you find yourself passing through La Coruña airport in northern Spain any-time, make sure you have a look at the frogs. This small airport is located in the suburbs of La Coruña – also called A Coruña in Spaanish – and is one of a number of gateways into the province of Galicia. A far cry from the hustle and bustle of Heathrow airport – where flights on the airline Vueling depart from – it is relaxed and uncrowded, with a great restaurant. They even serve you a delicious soup from a steaming hot cauldron at your table. Imagine that at Heathrow!
Perez’s frog (Pelophylax perezi)
It’s always fun landing at this airport, which is located on a hill about 7 km from the city centre. But what I have come to appreciate as I have passed through this little airport over the years, is that it is a really good place to see Perez’s frog (Pelophylax perezi), also known as Iberian water frog, Iberian green frog, or Coruna frog. I’m not joking! There is a series of ponds at the at the northern end of the airport, just by the road leading out of the airport, and close to the car park. It is easy to find it as there is an example of the traditional Galician stone gain store (or horreo) besides the ponds.
Frog pool or lily pond at La Coruna airport
The ponds themselves are covered in water lilies on which the frogs can be seen resting, if you approach carefully. More likely you will hear plop, plop, plop as all the frogs hear your footsteps and jump into the safety of the water!
Perez’s frog (Pelophylax perezi) La Coruna airport
This frog species is not endangered (although amphibians are vulnerable everywhere), as is widely distributed and common across the whole of the Iberian Peninsula and is found in southern France, and elsewhere where it has been introduced, like Madeira, the Balearic and Canary Islands.
Perez’s frog (Pelophylax perezi) with bubbles
They are highly variable in colour and patterning, and look a lot like the Marsh frog (Pelophylax ridibunda) which is what I thought they were when I first came across them (1). Confusingly, they also hybridise with each other to form a type of hybrid frog!
Perez’s frog (Pelophylax perezi)
So whilst not being unusual, you might not come across a better place to see them whist visiting Spain or Portugal, and it is a good way of whiling away some time waiting for a flight. They are particularly vocal and lively, jumping around and inflating their vocal sacs, during the breeding season (Spring) (1).
The small city of Mondoñedo is located in the province of Galicia in northwest Spain. It lies along the so-called Northern Pilgrim Way, of the Camino de Santiago (the Way of St. James) (1). Although, it is now a relatively small town of about 4,000 people – the population has been declining since the nineteenth century – it was once a mediaeval city of great historical importance.
Mondoñedo, with the cathedral church rising above the town in the centre
The central square is dominated by a large Cathedral Church which dates from the early thirteenth century. Construction of the church began in 1219 under the first Bishop, San Martín. It is worth remembering that this was at the time of the crusades, just 15 years after the sack of Constantinople during the Fourth Crusade, and at the time of the Fifth Crusade which failed to recapture Jerusalem. It was also at the time of the so-called Reconquest of Spain, when large areas of southern Spain were being recaptured from the Moors by Christian states. Indeed, by the time of the church was consecrated in 1248, most of Iberian Peninsula – apart from a small territory of Granada in the south – was under Christian control.
14th Century mural depicting the Slaughter of the Innocents (detail)
So against this background, it is interesting to look at the 14th century murals or frescos, in the Central nave of the Cathedral, which were only found when the choir was removed from the central nave. They are said to reflect some aspects of St Peter’s life and the Slaughter of the Innocents and the Flight from Egypt.
14th Century mural depicting the Slaughter of the Innocents
Another interesting feature of Mondoñedo cathedral is a statue called the English Madonna – Nuestra Señora la Inglesa – which is located in the sanctuary of the Blessed Sacrament. The Madonna was rescued from St Paul’s Cathedral by an Englishman nobleman called John Dutton during during the Dissolution of the Monasteries (1536 to 1541). John Dutton settled in the town of Viveiro, Galicia and brought many wooden images from English (catholic) churches to Spain. Between 1533 and 1675, thousands of Catholics fled England and moved to Spain, mainly in the north(2). One wonders how easily these exiles settled into Spainish society at the time, and what influence they had.
The English MadonaEnter a caption
The Cathedral boasts an attractive stained glass rose window, dating from the 16th Century.
16th Century stained glass rose window
There are some striking reliefs on the outside of the cathedral. I am not sure who is depicted in this work (below), perhaps one of the founding bishops?
I have never been to Afghanistan, but from 36,000 feet or thereabouts, it certainly has a rugged beauty. Towering, snow-clad mountains are interspersed with deep, dark valleys where the sun sets early in the afternoon.
Unfortunately – for those of us who like to gaze out of the window on the dramatic landscapes passing below – on daytime flights, the cabin crew often ask passengers to pull down the window shades, so some people can sleep if they want to. This annoys me, because I like to look out, so I surreptitiously pull up the blinds to get a peep at the land beneath, every now and again. It is probably annoying for those trying to sleep to have a bright shaft of light shinning in their face just as they are dozing off, but I can’t resist it!
What amazes me is that people are not more curious about the world slipping by underneath. Airline travel allows a unique glimpse of the planet, which our ancestors would have marvelled at. Yet many people take it for granted. Perhaps they are just tired!
These images were taken somewhere to the west of Kabul according to the in-flight map on the screen. Presumably, there are villages down in the valleys. Has anyone climbed any of these peaks? It is such a huge area, yet the impression created by these images could not be further from that conjured up by all the terrible news reports of killings and massacres. Somehow the two must coexist in a strange sort of reality.
I have to confess at the outset that, unlike Alfred Russel Wallace, I did not manage to reach the top of this imposing mountain! Although the upper section of the mountain was closed and off-limits in August 2015 – something to do with a national holiday – I could have got higher if my knees had not given out! OK, Wallace was still only 38 years old, when he and his companions (two local hunters and two ‘coolies’ to carry his baggage!) successfully scaled both the twin volcanoes of Mount Gede (2,958 m) and Pangrango (3,019 m) in 1861 (1). My excuse was that I was considerably older and already worn out from two days of walking in the extensive botanical gardens (2). Next time I will make sure that I am fresh, as I definitely want to go back and get to the top.
Entrance to Mount Gede Pangrango National Park, Java
Nevertheless, I did manage to get a fair way up the mountain, so can a least make a partial claim to have followed Wallace, and it gave me further confirmation of the vigour and curiosity of this remarkable Victorian naturalist.
Mount Gede Pangrango National Park office
After paying the relatively steep entrance fee for foreigners (it’s a lot cheaper for Indonesians), I had a delicious cup of sugary white tea (tea tarik) to fortify me for the climb.
Start of the trail to Gunung Gede
The first part of the trail is, as Wallace describes it in The Malay Archipelago, ‘a tolerably steep ascent through a grand virgin forest’. Whether or not it is still virgin forest today is hard to say, but the birding is good and the forest appears to be very healthy despite the large numbers of people who troop up the trail, particularly the first section which leads to the Cibeureum Waterfalls (at about 1,625 m). Most of the 15,000 hectares of the park are probably inaccessible.
Trail to Cibeureum Waterfall, Gunung Gede Pangrangro National Park, Java.
Wallace was struck by the ‘immense number of ferns’ on the route and recounts ‘continually stopping to admire some new and interesting forms’. His ability to notice (and collect) plants, birds and insects is impressive, but he was a highly experienced tropical naturalist, having spent about four years in the Amazon before his extensive travels in what is now Indonesia.
The Blue Lake, Telaga Biru (1,575 m), Mount Gede Pangrango National Park
I almost missed The Blue Lake, but I was very pleased when I stopped to admire it, as a large flock of Sunda minivets (Pericrocotus miniatus) arrived in a nearby tree. These are endemic to Indonesia, Sumatra and Java, and Wallace had already obtained a specimen of this bird on his way to the mountain (1).
Flock of Sunda minivets (Pericrocotus miniatus) near the Blue Lake
Most people on the trail seemed to have target of reaching the Cibeureum Waterfall, which is not too taxing a climb. As well as the waterfall, there are a number of fine tree ferns on the slopes (below).
Cibeureum Waterfall, Gunung Gede Pangrangro National Park, Java
After the turn-off to the waterfall, the trails becomes ‘narrow, rugged and steep’ as Wallace described it (1). The path is very rocky and someone must have laboured long and hard to construct this access way to the peak.
Steep, rocky trail which begins after the waterfall turning
Nevertheless, there is much to look at during rest breaks (!) on the trail, such as the gorgeous Blue nuthatch (Sitta azurea). It appears that Wallace did collect this species from West Java – which was only first described some 30 years before in 1830 (3) – since there is a hand-written letter from A R Wallace in the Natural History Museum concerning this species (using a former name) where he refers to ‘a bird of mine’. Presumably one he collected and donated to the museum?
As well as many birds, I was fortunate enough to come across some beautiful tiger butterflies (Zinken’s tiger, Parantica albata) – also called danaids – which are endemic to Java (below).
Zinken’s tiger (Parantica albata) Java
Alas, I never made it to the Hot Springs/Air Panas (2,150 m) and turned around at about 2,000m, to save my knees. There is much to see beyond this point, and Wallace describes in detail the flora on the higher slopes of the volcano, much of which was of a temperate kind, familiar to him from his botanising in England. So I would like to go back, not only to see the impressive volcano itself, but the birds, insects and plants to be found on the top of these mountains. Like many climbers today, Wallace camped near the top and took time to explore both peaks. I had to be content with a view of Mount Pangrango from the trail on the way down (below).
Mount Pangrango (3,019m)
Wallace, Alfred Russel. The Malay Archipelago: the land of the orang-utan and the bird of paradise; a narrative of travel, with studies of man and nature. Courier Corporation, 1869.
Alfred Russel Wallace – the great Victorian naturalist and co-discoverer of evolution by natural selection – described his journeys in West Java in 1861 in his book The Malay Archipelago (1). He travelled from the capital Jakarta, down to the town of Bogor, where he stopped off to look at the Botanical Gardens planted by the Dutch (2). Travelling south from Bogor, by horse and on foot, he headed towards the area around the volcano Mount Gede Pangrango, which is now a National Park. He described capturing a number of birds (which ‘hunters obtained for me’) on the way – a total of 40 species ‘peculiar to the Javanese fauna’.
Cibodas Botanical Gardens trees
He also collected a number of ‘large and handsome butterflies’, including the ‘superb Papilio arjuna’ now known as the Paris Peacock (Papilio paris). Wallace vividly described the wings of this species as seemingly ‘powdered with grains of golden green, condensed into bands and moon-shaped spots’.
Paris Peacock (Papilio paris), collected by A R Wallace in 1861
On his journey, Wallace remarked on the ‘system of terrace cultivation’, which is still very much in evidence in this part of Java, Indonesia. I was also struck by how well-tended these terraces were (below).
Terraces planted with onions below Gunung Gede
Before embarking on his climb to the summit of Pangarango and Gede mountains, Wallace stopped off at the village of Tchipanas (now Cipanas) near the ‘foot of the mountain’ as he described it. Nearby, are the Cibodas Botanical Gardens, where Wallace stayed a night with the keeper. These large (85 hectares or 210 acres) gardens were founded by the Dutch botanist Johannes Teijsmannas in 1852, as an extension of the Bogor Botanical Gardens (2). They are a magnificent collection of trees and shrubs on the lower slopes (1300-1425 m) of Gunung Gede.
Cibodas Botanical Garden
The Cibodas Botanical Gardens (called Kebun Raya Cibodas or KRC in Indonesian) were therefore, only about a decade old when Wallace visited in 1861. He descibed there being ‘many beautiful trees and shrubs’ as well as an abundance of European vegetables ‘grown for the Governor-General’s table’!
Guest house in Cibodas Botanical Gardens, Java, Indonesia.
The gardens were reportedly the first place in Indonesia where cinchona trees were grown, as a source of quinine. The climate is mild, typical of tropical lower mountain ecosystems with an annual rainfall between 3,000-4,200 mm, and average temperatures of 10-18 °C. It was however, warmer than this when I was there in August 2015. The gardens are popular with both people escaping Jakarta for the weekend, as well as tourists from further afield, such as visitors from Saudi Arabia, who come to admire the waterfalls and picnic in the gardens, at a time of year when temperatures are very high in the Arabian peninsula.
Pathway from Ciismun waterfall, Cibodas Botanical Gardens, Java
It would be interesting to know what Wallace would have thought of the gardens today. He would probably have been impressed by the size of many of the trees now, some 154 years later (in 2015). For example, he might have marvelled at the Bornean kauri trees (Agathis borneensis), which are very large, evergreen trees that can grow to 60 metres (nearly 200 feet) tall. They have a straight trunk, which goes up very high without branching. Not surprisingly, A. borneensis is valued and sought after for its timber – as well as for its resin (3). I don’t know how old these trees are, but since they are slow-growing, I expect they were here when Wallace visited in 1861.
Huge Borneo kauri trees (Agathis borneensis ) Cibodas Botanical Garden
Another similar tree, is the Kauri tree (Agathis australis) from New Zealand, which can live for at least 600 years, probably longer. So the one shown gere (below), which might have been a relatively young sapling when Wallace visited in 1861, will – it is hoped – continue to grown for another 500 years or so, by which time it might equal some of its venerable ancestors in New Zealand.
Kauri tree (Agathis australis), Cibodas Botanical Gardens
There is a splendid row of large Arucaria trees. Some of these are not native, but originate from New Guinea, e.g. Araucaria cunninghamii var. papuana. The densely branching Arucaria trees are used as roosting sites by endemic Javan hawk-eagles (Nisaetus bartelsi). One morning in the gardens I heard a strange, high-pitched, cat-like calls (4) coming from high up in the Arucaria tree above me. It took me a while to realise what this was, and before I could locate it directly above me, the bird suddenly fly off to another tree further away (below) and proceeded to look out over the forest for a while.
Javan hawk-eagle (Nisaetus bartelsi) high in a tree
The densely packed branches of the Arucaria trees presumably provide protection as well as perches for roosting hawk-eagles.
Araucaria cunninghamii var. papuana
There are said to be more that 1,200 species of plants and trees in the park and many of these are exotic to Java. For example, there is an extensive collection of Eucalyptus trees (63 species) from Australia (4). The Gardens are also a popular location for birders, who come to look for species such as Java munia, Yellow-throated hanging parrot, Java fulvetta and the iconic pygmy tit, which only occurs on Java.
Lake in Cibodas Botanical Gardens, Java
The gardens are a nice place to wander amongst the trees, looking for birds, or admiring the flora. Wallace did not however, linger long at the gardens, after one night he headed off up the mountain (Pangrango and Gede). So it seems that Wallace did not do much collecting here, although I expect that he would have seen insects and butterflies, such as the attractive red dragonfly (Orthetrum chrysis) and the striking Himalayan jester (Symbrenthia hypselis).
Red dragonfly (Orthetrum chrysis)
Himalayan jester (Symbrenthia hypselis)
Cibodas Botanical gardens are popular at the weekend, but the large area soaks up the crowds and they are very pleasant to walk around, with plenty of kiosks and restaurants offering refreshment. There are also number of pleasant places to stay – at very reasonable costs – both inside and outside the gardens. I walked everywhere, but there were occasions when I wished I had a car. Or like Wallace, a horse!
Cibodas Botanical Gardens
Wallace, Alfred Russel. The Malay Archipelago: the land of the orang-utan and the bird of paradise; a narrative of travel, with studies of man and nature. Courier Corporation, 1869.
Alfred Russel Wallace – co-discoverer of evolution by natural selection – spent three and a half months in Java, from 18th July to 31st Oct 1861 (1). After collecting birds and insects in East Java, he took a steamer from Surabaya to Jakarta, where he stayed about a week. Jakarta did not seem to make a very good impression on Wallace. He complained that the canals ‘were all muddy’, the pebbly dives up to houses were ‘very painful to walk upon’ and he also grumbled that ‘in Jakarta everybody drives’. He probably meant, drives by horse and carriage, but it is an apt quotation; not much has changed, there are still pony and traps in some places, but it’s mainly cars, vans and buses, which are the main way of getting around for the 10 million or more of the population in Jakarta.
Central Jakarta in the early morning from my hotel window
I wonder what Wallace would have made of it now? Perhaps he would have noted that some birds still manage to exist in this vast city, living alongside man, colonising the patches of vegetation which exist here and there in parks and gardens. My own sojourn in the capital city of Indonesia was short; I found it too huge and too traffic clogged to grapple with it. I am sure there is much of interest, but I soon moved on. I hired a taxi to drive to Bogor, a city some 60 km (37 miles) south of the Indonesian capital. Wallace went by coach to Bogor (or Buitenzorg as the Dutch called it). He visited the Botanical Gardens, but was ‘somewhat disappointed’ by them (1). His main criticism was that ‘there is a great absence of skilful laying-out’ (you certainly could not say that today as they are very well laid out) and perhaps more significantly, he considered that the plants could not compare to the ‘luxuriance and beauty’ of the ‘same species grown in our hothouses’. Be that as it may, he did concede that ‘there is much to admire here’, and mentioned ‘avenues of stately palms’ and ‘an endless variety of tropical shrubs and trees with strange and beautiful foliage’. The same can be said today of the Kebun Raya Bogor as the Botanical Gardens are called in Indonesia; there are many strange and beautiful plants to admire.
Kenari Ave, Bogor Botanical Gardens
The gardens were first set up in 1817, by a Dutch botanist called Caspar Georg Carl Reinwardt(1773-1854), so they must have been quite well-developed when Wallace visited them in 1861.
Caspar Reinwardt, founder of Bogor Botanical Gardens
The gardens were later to become the life work of another Dutch botanist called Johannes Elias Teijsmann (1808-1882), who – I think – must have been there when Wallace visited in 1861, since he only relinquished the directorship of the gardens in 1869 (2). A lithograph of from the 1880’s illustrates a lily pond and fountain very similar to that which exists today (3).
Lily (lotus) pond with the Istana Palace in background, Bogor Botanical gardens
I enjoyed visiting these gardens on two successive days in August 2015. They are a good place to do birdwatching, and I was fortunate to see some Javan species, such as the Bar-winged Prinia, which is very common on the lawns; the Javan variety of the Coppersmith Barbet; and the beautiful Scarlet-headed flowerpecker.
Pink flowering tree in Bogor Botanical Gardens
But it is the plants which are so interesting in this 87 hectare (210 acres) garden, since there are over 3,373 different species. Many of the plants are exotic species (to Java) collected or brought here by the founding Dutch fathers of the gardens (2, 3), like this Rose of Venezuela (Brownea grandiceps) flower, which I blogged about before (4).
Brownea grandiceps flower ball
As well as the cacti, bamboos, orchids, roses and so on, there are also some remarkable trees. The oldest tree in the Botanical Gardens is said to be this lychee tree (below) which originated from southern China, and was planted in 1823. So it would have been a fair-sized, 38-year-old tree when Wallace visited; I wonder if he noticed it?
Lychee tree (Litchi chinensis) planted 1823
One thing that Wallace did remark on (again!), was the fact that the ‘walks were all of loose pebbles, making any lengthened wanderings about them very tiring and painful under a tropical sun’. Perhaps he had bad feet, or perhaps he was already was suffering from some tropical ulcers which plagued him in later years. Nevertheless, the pebbly walkways are still there in Bogor, but appear to be more consolidated than in Wallace’s day, and they did not impede me from walking extensively around the garden.
Cobbled, or pebbly, paths in Bogor Botanical Gardens
One very interesting plant I came across, which I am sure would have fascinated the ever-curious Wallace, was the seed of the Javan cucumber plant (Alsomitra macrocarpa) which were lying everywhere on the ground when I visited. These amazing, winged seeds, are packed into football-sized fruits, which hang down from the vines which are festooned high in the canopy. They are surely, Nature’s own hang-glider, since they are able to glide for very long distances. David Attenborough got there first! See BBC TV footage of these wonderful seeds (5).
Winged seed (Alsomitra macrocarpa) of Javan cucumber vine
One thing that Wallace may have noticed on his visit, was the Dutch cemetery, which contains some gravestones which date back as far as 1784. One which I noticed was to the memory of a Captain J. Drury R.N.. who died on the 1st March 1835, aged 51. Who was he and what was he doing here?
Dutch Cemetry, Bogor Botanical Gardens
Perhaps the most famous British person buried (elsewhere) in these gardens is Olivia Mariamne Raffles – the first wife of the British governor-general Thomas Stamford Raffles. The British invaded Java in 1811, but subsequently restored the island to the Dutch rule.
Olivia Mariamne Devenish memorial
Olivia Raffles (Née Olivia Mariamne Devenish) died of malaria in Bogor, on 26 November 1814. A rather tragic irony, given that the Botanical Gardens subsequently played major role in the introduction of Cinchona trees (in 1854), which went on to make Java the largest producer of quinine bark for the treatment of malaria.
Lotus flower (Nelumbo nucifera,) Bogor Botanical Gardens
Wallace, Alfred Russel. The Malay Archipelago: the land of the orang-utan and the bird of paradise; a narrative of travel, with studies of man and nature. Courier Corporation, 1869.
I recently traveled to Java (Indonesia) to do some bird watching. I surprised by how friendly the people were. Wherever I went – outside of the capital – people, especially children, were eager to speak to me and have their photo taken. Students liked to ask my name and where I came from. In the Bogor Botanical Gardens, there were groups of young students eager to ask tourists various questions. I was doing ‘spot the bird’ in the park, whist they were doing ‘spot the tourist’!
Students in Bogor Botanical Gardens, Java, Indonesia
Sometimes it felt like one was a minor celebrity, with everyone wanting to know something about you! Kids sometimes ask for money. I tended to refuse, but occasionally submitted and gave them enough to buy some sweets. These kids (in red outfits, below) were being given a lesson in how to build a house, near the Cibodas Botanical Gardens. I did give them a little money, with the permission of their teacher, and they rushed off up the street to get some sweets (candy).
Boys being given a lesson in building
I like to walk through villages. It is interesting; you see things you would not do from a car, and you meet people. Sometimes you get teased! These girls rushed over to look at the strangeboule (white man) walking through their village.
Girls on a wall
Nobody walks in Indonesia. It is hot and there are all sorts of modes of transport, from horse and cart to car. Motor bikes and scooters are incredible common and I was always being asked if I wanted a lift on the back of one. I think the notion that I actually liked walking was a bit of a strange one. These lads were not very impressed!
Young men near the entrance to the park (Cibodas Botanical Gardens)
Minivans (angkut) abound in the cities of Indonesia, but they are not much use if you do not know where they are going. These boys were just riding along by sitting in the open door. Dangerous? Probably not as the traffic was moving very slowly. And great fun.
Boys on a minivan (angkut) in Bogor, Java
These boys (top photo and below) were hanging around outside the Bogor Palace (Istana Bogor) where it was possible to feed deer through the palace fence.
Boys outside Bogor Palace, Bogor, Java, Indonesia
On the other side of the fence the deer were waiting for someone to feed them. Green beans were on sale to feed the chital deer, which were originally imported from India, but thriving in these private gardens in Bogor, Java.
The small harbour in Scarborough, North Yorkshire, is a photographer’s delight, with a diverse collection of colourful fishing boats and pleasure craft. There are also lots of colourful shops and amusement arcades along the sea front.
Colourful tea shop called the Tea Pot
During the summer, the sun sets late in the evening and the so-called ‘magic hour’ – when colours are at their richest and most saturated – occurs between 8 and 9 pm or even later. One thing that really attracts me are reflections.
Colourful fishing boats produce attractive reflections
Brightly coloured reflections offer the possibility of sampling them to obtain abstract images. The reflections need to be bright – so sunshine is a must – and the images must offer the possibility of selecting an area which might be aesthetically interesting to focus on.
Regal Lady – ship with a nicely broken up reflection
If there is an art to this process, it is choosing the right sort of reflection – which is fairly easy! – and then selecting an area which seems to offer something pleasing to the eye. This is highly subjective of course, and to some extent, a matter of personal preference. Some people like abstract images more than others.
Regal Lady reflection in more detail, i.e. cropped
Sometimes, I think it is preferable not to crop too much. To leave quite a lot of the object which is being reflected, i.e. the boat, in the picture. To some extent it depends on how attractive they are in their own right.
Boats reflected in the harbour
Some objects are not particularly interesting or attractive in their own right, but are very interesting when broken up in the reflection. I think this applies to the yellow davit in the following picture. I focussed only on the reflection, which because of the interesting shape and bright colour, is interesting by itself. Well at least to me!
Reflection of a bright yellow davit in the harbour
Reflections are best when the water is calm and smooth, but moving just enough to break up the outlines. They are of course, ever changing, and it can be interesting to take repeated images of the same spot and record the changing reflection. Ripples can however, offer a different perspective, breaking up the colours and shapes into much smaller, rounded shapes, as below.
Ripples on a reflection
My own preference is for highly abstract, severely cropped images of reflections; there are endless possibilities. But these are not to everyone’s taste, and it needs a certain quality of original image to produce good outlines when cropped. There is scope for cropping even further in the following two photographs.
When I first started taking photographs of reflections and sampling from them, I was blown away at the possibilities for producing abstract images and cropped them severely. I now think that such reflections work best at an intermediate scale, cropped and selected, but not too much, so that the original photograph is still not too altered. It puts more emphasis on trying to get the image right ‘in camera’ as it were, and not over-processing them afterwards, great fun though it is! The image shown below is an example of a photograph that was cropped, but not too heavily, and I think it works well because the original choice of what to photograph worked out well. It also depends on what sort of lens you have. There is always an element of luck in getting a good image, but perseverance and practice pay off! Personally, I think there is an awful lot of luck in photography, but if you do it often enough, you get lucky!
Reflection of boat in harbour
The approach, of getting it right ‘in camera’ applies to all sorts of photography; I know it is Steve McCurry’s dictum, when taking portraits, and he is about as good as it gets (1). But sampling from images is another sort of art, of sorts, and there is scope for a lot of post-processing if that is what you enjoy. It is always good to get some feedback on such images, and putting them on National Geographic My Photos, for example, is a good way of discovering if other people like your choices (2).
A yacht name reflected in the water
All of these images were taken with a small compact camera (Sony RX).
The waves were crashing into the rocks on this day in early June. The spray rose high into the air and the water cascaded down the rocks back into the ocean. Few surfers were braving the elements on this day in early June. I stood on one side of the bay and pointed my lens at the waves breaking on the other side, trying to catch some of the power and dynamism of the ocean. On Esterio beach, Galicia, Spain.
Waves on Esterio beach Waves on Esterio beach Waves on Esterio beach Waves on Esterio beach
We humans can create ‘works of art’ in many ways. We might collect shells and drift wood and use them to make representational works like Picasso did so skilfully. Or we could grind up natural elements like soil or minerals and apply them to a canvas. Or we could rely on Nature to produce a pattern, as here by waves washing up and down a beach, moving the shells, leaves and pieces of wood in ‘random’ pattens. But these arrangements follow a natural order; shells lie flat (rarely on their sides); smaller grains move father and faster than larger stones; wood floats and settles; and all the pieces get pushed into a narrow zone produced by the waves – advancing and retreating – a tide line.
Tide line
Walking along a tide line, we might select in our camera lens certain features, patterns or accumulations as our fancy dictates. What drives this selection is a certain aesthetic, but what determines a given selection – a quick glance and then a largely unconscious choice looking through a viewfinder – is a matter of taste, and is probably not worth thinking about too deeply.
Tide line
Rather, walk and get into a rhythm where the choice is spontaneous and natural. Not all compositions will work, but occasionally – with a little skill (we can all do it) – something of beauty emerges. Back home on the computer – the modern atelier – the photographer/artist can fine tune his selections, crop and polish, until something pleasing, but still rather intangible emerges.
Tide line
All of these images were taken with a compact camera (Sony RX I) whilst walking along Morouzos beach (1), Ria Ortigueira, on an overcast day (31st May 2015).
Ray's ramblings 