The fingers of Autumn

That feeling of the strength of the summer imperceptibly starting to wane comes stealthily every year through the back door of long late summer days. 

First it is the subtle arrival of an earlier sunset from Mid August. August is for me more a moment of changing seasons than a main fixture in the school holiday rota. For many and I count myself amongst them the first week in August is akin to the warmest and longest of summer days, yet, by its end August feels decidedly autumnal, cool evenings, a creeping damp air and much shorter days. I've just looked up some facts to near where I live. On the 1st of August there was 15 hours and 19 minutes of day length, and of course much longer twilight. The sun rose at 05.37 and set at 20.57. As someone who spends time outdoors I can remember only a few weeks ago looking at the sun setting over Wales at 9pm. By the end of the month, there will be just 13 hours and 33 minutes of day length, close to a 2 hour difference. By then the sun will set before 8pm and not rise until 6.30am. 

Why am I saying this? Well today was the first morning I have risen and it was dark enough to need a light. Admittedly it was a cloudy start to the day, but not until near 6am did it feel as though the day had begun. I know this as I was sat in the garden. Unable to get back to sleep, I made myself a cup of tea and headed onto the patio. Time, 5.30. All was still without. Overnight we had had heavy rain and through the gloom jewels of rain were across many of the leaves and flowers hard by. There was a glorious earthy aroma around me, mixed with wood smoke, from where I know not. Most noticeably however was the absolute lack of wind. It has been like this for a couple of days. Nothing stirred either, it was as if all sound had been switched off by some unseen hand. 

Not long however the call of a wren erupted from the undergrowth closely followed by a robin. The robin I'm used to who has been calling his territorial scone for about a week now, a song that will continue into mid-winter. The difference in August however is that just a few minutes later the soft chittering of house martins was overhead and mixed beautifully with the robin song. At first I could not see where this was coming from, but then high high up in the sky a half dozen dark spots zig zagged around the sky in crazy circles. The day was waking. 

The time around dawn is possibly the best time to be outdoors. From a near silent landscape, no matter the season, the landscapes offers subtle changes in sound and motion minute by minute as dawn breaks. Today was no exception as by 6.30 I'd been privileged to be under the flightpath of around 100 jak-a-jack jackdaws off to forage somewhere to the south, herring gulls coming inland from their roost to the west, and alongside a few other species such as blue and great tit, the comic circus of house sparrows cascading out of the eves and creating both a deafening din and a cartwheeling mass of brown splodges across the garden. I love these birds which have chosen to live alongside us in the roof space. Regularly we have 50 by the feeders and today it was no exception. They were everywhere and as I have often observed the males were gently feeding juveniles, who with gaping mouth and shimmering wings were attended most dutifully by dad with a soft morsel of worm, bug or grain. 

I've been to many locations around Britain looking at wildlife but an hour or so in the garden matches many a trip to far flung areas. Despite the lack of sun drenched warmth there was still a feeling of summer joy listening to the martin’s overhead, but the autumn season was much in evidence, waiting in the wings. Aside from that scent of earth, the hedge behind the garden is now covered in red berries. Above my head a few gnats jostled for space but other than a single buff tailed bumblebee no other insects came into view. Turning a little too cold in the morning maybe and many will have finished their sexual phase thus larva are hidden from view awaiting their entrance in the years to come. I don’t mind autumn creeping through the back door, but as the day length shortens, I shall miss the long summer nights with screaming swifts around the house, those screams ended on July 23^rd this year. May the 4^th and they’ll be back.   

6th December - Project Month 12

Well that’s it.  Twelve months in the making and the final set of 17 photographs are in the bag. The wheel of the Year once more comes to rest in December.

It seems funny coming to the end of what was a short Project really, but one I have found fascinating for reasons I cannot explain.  Though I shall try.

The reason behind this Project was two fold. Firstly I wanted to mark my time here in North Somerset over the twelvemonth period. One day, and it may be far closer than I think, my time in this lovely area will stop. Nothing lasts forever. Hopefully that ending will not be for any serious or medical reasons, more that I may just move away from this area and what is now the familiar will recede into the memory.

Secondly I have long held an ambition to photograph a view on a regular basis as an endeavour to record that subtle change that occurs day by day but without record is often missed until like the first storm of winter, we realise the seasons have changed.  Until now I had not managed to do this. But now, I have succeeded.

What this Project did also allow me to do was fine tune what works as an image, and maybe more importantly what doesn’t work.  A couple of obvious learning points here was to plan the direction (and time) of an image carefully – evening photographs into sun often resulted in silhouettes at best. The scene is also important. A few images such as the barn and road don’t really change that much. My village view likewise apart from a few rogue waste and recycling bins didn’t change much either. It is a learning curve. Work in progress.  7/10 must do better.

Looking through these images across the year, these 17 unremarkable images in a way, the subtle change over the winter and high summer were almost indiscernible.  The astonishing changes in the spring and autumn show how these Equinoxial moods change the landscape with abandon.

For the moment I shall simply post these images as before in a haphazard way for December; if time allows over Christmas I shall post each location on one posting, something like the twelve images of Christmas….  Observing the images en masse is a great way to see in an instance what had happened.

For these final images however what struck me more than anything was that it was so warm, not like the beginning of winter at all – photographing in short sleeves in December is quite unusual.

Merry Christmas (when it comes)

 

Two ducks on the river

 

The last view of Puxton church

 

For once a dramatic sky over the lane

 

No more sheep in the orchard

 

The silent river

 

Strawberry Line puddles

 

Apples have all been picked - tomorrow's cider

 

I included the car passing as a sign of life in the village

 

Quiet corners.

 

Maize now harvested the fields left to recover

 

Cold looking river

 

Bare hedges

 

The dairy cows will stay - for a while at least

 

Late afternoon on the bridleway

 

That pink trug never moves

 

Wet, wet, wet.

 

Windblown sand in the foreground

November 15th - Project Month 11

Winter is knocking on the door. After what seems months of similar views, the difference between October and November's images was remarkable. As I'd expect. Suddenly the landscape seems stark, cold and wet. Indeed after an incredibly dry October early November has provided much needed rain. I struggled a lot with these images because of the rain, grabbing odd moments in between the showers, and the failing light levels now. In fact the final three images around Wick St Lawrence had to be taken a few days later because it was just too dark.

It was the feel and mood of the landscape that has changed so much in the 4 weeks. It feels now like the countryside is going into hibernation, a long well deserved sleep. Trees are now mostly bare, though leaves remain on the hedges. Pools of water litter the fields and while taking these images the familiar cackle of fieldfares overhead reminded me that when I began this project in January, fieldfares cackled over head. The year is coming full circle again. Next month, December will be my last month, astonishing to think this year has passed by so quickly.

Still dark after hours of rain, but blue skies arriving

A brief interlude of sunshine at Woodspring on Saturday evening

Barn track looking very soggy

Maize has been cut and the field resown

I seem to keep photographing the refuse days in the village

This years rook nests now seen again in the field

A lone horse rider in the far distance breaks up the scene

What this image does not show is how wet the graveyard was to walk over.

This lane never changes and I like it for its simplicity.

The River Banwell opening up again as the vegetation dies back

Sheep still in the orchard

Thatcher's cider trees now devoid of fruit - and a lot of mud where the tractors have been working

A soggy Strawberry line taken in the 5 minutes when it wasn't raining.

Taken a few days after the images above, Ebdon Bow bridge

Wins whipped hedge looking naked now

Soon seeing black and white cows in this farm will be no more. Sad, but that's farming for you, its a business.

Next and final images 5th and 6th of December.

October 13th - Project Month 10

Can it really be the tenth month of this project. Indeed it is. What is clear with this project is that as a learning curve it is excellent. As a finished product I'm uncertain.  But that is the fun of trying, without experimenting new ideas do not open up. That said I continue to enjoy this project, though sadly on October 3rd and 4th I had quite a hectic weekend. Time and the weather were against me somewhat, which meant that I only had an hour before sunset each day of the weekend, but I liked that, made for a fast hit and run photographic experience. Set fixed points and don't waver. Just November and December to go, then around Christmas I'll do a 12 days of Christmas - 12 photos of each image across the year each day.

And so to October............. in no specific order again!

Sand Bay on a very misty Saturday morning, the only image I took at that time.

The barn at sunset on the 4th

Can't really see much of the bridleway at sunset but I like that, its what it was like

Woodspring Priory on the 4th with sunlight clipping the tree

The maize field on the 3rd at sunset.

The village bathed in sunlight on the 3rd

The field less so

Around 7pm when this was taken on the 3rd, sun setting fast now

Almost too fast for Puxton Church

But that meant that for once the road was quite atmospheric.

Sheep still in the orchard

River Banwell quietly flowing

Thatchers cider trees ready for picking

Strawberry Line cycle-way deserted on a Saturday night

Friends over for lunch on Sunday 4th, and a charity dog we looked after, had to be removed from the following images

Life moves on slowly in the country

Sunday afternoon and the farm was deserted.

November 7th and 8th the next set, followed by the final set on December 5th and 6th