Just grab a camera (2021)
22nd November 2021
It was a dull and misty November morning, not the most promising for photography. Yet, as I passed through my bedroom doorway, I glimpsed a splash of bright yellow, visible through a narrow window on the west side of our house. Another step, and it disappeared from view. But that one glance was sufficiently tempting to grab a camera, and I made my way across a front yard to see what had caught my attention. It was a young self-seeded sycamore seedling, growing at nature’s will, not mine. For a new tree its leaves, surprisingly, were full-size. They seemed slightly out of proportion to the height of the young plant. What would my small compact camera make of that, because it was my venerable Leica X1 which first came to hand?
Looking closer
After taking an establishing shot, I moved in closer, setting the camera accordingly. What would normally have been a nuisance plant, suddenly became an interesting subject, as I examined the subtle gradations from summer green to mellow yellows, all held together by very thin veins. It really was a natural work of art.
Having got me in a mood for more late Autumn photography, I wondered about other leaves with turning colours. At that point, I might have called a halt to my unplanned garden photo session. However, I was tempted to see what else I could find, of seasonal interest, nearby.
Turning around and heading for the garden gate, I spotted the brilliant red leaves of Bergenias known, more commonly, as ‘Elephant Ears’, growing at the base of a trimmed hedge. They turn bright red in Autumn, and certainly merit a shot or two.
But then I remembered my original agenda, thus ending my brief, unplanned, photo session for the day.
Impulse photography
On reflection, I realized how important it is, to seize the moment. Often, pre-planned commitments get in the way. But, now and again, it is liberating to divert, just for a few moments, when a potential photographic subject flashes into our peripheral vision. Having a reliable camera readily to hand, makes this possible, given the time and will.
One other observation could be of interest. My initial viewing of the yellow leaves against a dark background depended on precise alignment of my eyes, the narrow window, and the subject about fifty metres away. Thinking about the odds of even spotting the opportunity, it was as if I was using a telescope. The slightest movement off-target and the subject disappeared. So luck played a huge part. Photographers need luck; and they need to train their brains to spot these one-off opportunities.
Not everyone would be inspired by a glimpse of golden yellow leaves which suddenly appear out of context. They didn’t exist inside my house. Even walking in the front yard, I might have missed them, with so many other competing potential subjects to see. All of which narrows the odds of spotting such a subject in the way I did.
If there is a lesson to be drawn from this anecdote, it is to be aware of visual opportunities, wherever you happen to be. Oh, and by the time you read these words, those golden yellow leaves will have disappeared as the plant sinks into hibernation, as so much of nature does at this time of the year.
(If you have enjoyed my short anecdote, please leave a comment. It helps me choose future subjects and treatment. Thank you)
A young self-seeded sycamore tree with leaves just changing colour in November.
Looking closer
After taking an establishing shot, I moved in closer, setting the camera accordingly. What would normally have been a nuisance plant, suddenly became an interesting subject, as I examined the subtle gradations from summer green to mellow yellows, all held together by very thin veins. It really was a natural work of art.
The group of sycamore leaves which caught my eye from indoors
Close-up with a compact Leica X1 of sycamore leaves changing colour in Autumn
Having got me in a mood for more late Autumn photography, I wondered about other leaves with turning colours. At that point, I might have called a halt to my unplanned garden photo session. However, I was tempted to see what else I could find, of seasonal interest, nearby.
Turning around and heading for the garden gate, I spotted the brilliant red leaves of Bergenias known, more commonly, as ‘Elephant Ears’, growing at the base of a trimmed hedge. They turn bright red in Autumn, and certainly merit a shot or two.
A colourful group of fallen Beech and Bergenia leaves in fiery red colours in November.
Often called ‘Elephant Ears’, these fleshy leaves turn bright red in Autumn
But then I remembered my original agenda, thus ending my brief, unplanned, photo session for the day.
Impulse photography
On reflection, I realized how important it is, to seize the moment. Often, pre-planned commitments get in the way. But, now and again, it is liberating to divert, just for a few moments, when a potential photographic subject flashes into our peripheral vision. Having a reliable camera readily to hand, makes this possible, given the time and will.
One other observation could be of interest. My initial viewing of the yellow leaves against a dark background depended on precise alignment of my eyes, the narrow window, and the subject about fifty metres away. Thinking about the odds of even spotting the opportunity, it was as if I was using a telescope. The slightest movement off-target and the subject disappeared. So luck played a huge part. Photographers need luck; and they need to train their brains to spot these one-off opportunities.
Not everyone would be inspired by a glimpse of golden yellow leaves which suddenly appear out of context. They didn’t exist inside my house. Even walking in the front yard, I might have missed them, with so many other competing potential subjects to see. All of which narrows the odds of spotting such a subject in the way I did.
If there is a lesson to be drawn from this anecdote, it is to be aware of visual opportunities, wherever you happen to be. Oh, and by the time you read these words, those golden yellow leaves will have disappeared as the plant sinks into hibernation, as so much of nature does at this time of the year.
(If you have enjoyed my short anecdote, please leave a comment. It helps me choose future subjects and treatment. Thank you)
All material, words and pictures are Copyright David Askham
Comments
By Woodbetony: A beautifully observed photographer's moment in time. Catching sight of such opportunities seems serendipitous, but I'm sure the practice of staying open to nature's beauty must also play its part. Thank you for sharing these mindful moments with us. By David Askham: Thank you, Woodbetony for your insightful comment on my short essay on nature for photographers. Much appreciated.