© All Rights Reserved

Coast Redwoods, Sequoia sempervirens, along Howland Hill Road in Jedediah Smith Redwoods State Park, Redwood National and State Parks,California, USA

Tags:   America California Redwood California State Parks Coast Redwood Coastal Redwood Howland Hill Rd Howland Hill Road Jedediah Smith Redwoods State Park March National Park Service North America Pacific Coast Redwood National Park Redwood National and State Parks Sequoia sempervirens USA United States awe-inspiring awesome bark breathtaking california coast ethereal forest gigantic height high horizontal huge inspiring landscape nature peaceful quiet rain rainy redwoods reverence sacred soaring spiritual spring stunning tall towering tree trees trunk woods

© All Rights Reserved

Battersea Power station using the railway as a leading line...

A subject I have wanted to capture for a while now and on this occasion wind and rain was not my friend and managing to capture this one in between.

Kase 6 stop ne filter used.

Captured blue hour sunset times.

Tags:   London GB blue hour battersea chimneys railway Long Exposure wac Anthonywhitesphotography Wacom Intuos pro

© All Rights Reserved

This wasn't the ideal scenario during the day before we were going away. Usually, I'd be doing the final bits of packing, taking another look through the holiday checklist on my phone, coming to a final decision on which camera and lenses were coming with me and making sure the passports were in the bag. And with a 7am flight the next morning, from an airport that's three hours drive away, I'd be getting plenty of rest too. I thought the days of arriving sleepily at the frantically charged Silver Zone car park desk long before the first cock had crowed were a thing of the past, but this latest escapade seemed to have crept under the radar. There was a time when we'd run the gauntlet of exhaustion to maximise the amount of hours of hard won leave under the sun, but since we put ourselves out to grass, we're generally content to turn up at the airport after the initial tsunami of budget flights have carried their passengers off to Faliraki, Torremolinos and Magaluf. I'm always amazed at how many people can be found swilling pints of lager in the departure lounge at five thirty in the morning. Beer? I like it, but I don't n-n-n-need it. Coffee? Yes, I definitely do.

But today, a little over twelve hours before setting off to drive through the night in the direction of Bristol Airport, I was at the top of a ladder, balanced precariously against the leaning poplar of the back garden, that had very suddenly lurched to an even more acute angle than before, the result of a storm that had rattled through the neighbourhood the previous night. As far as I knew, the old wooden ladder in the garage hadn't been used for at least twenty years, but it seemed to have retained its structural integrity and held firm as I chopped away at the most troublesome branches, catching them as they fell and dropping them to the grass below. Ali had been adamant for several years that the tree, which had been very gradually toppling towards the greenhouse, needed to go, while I continued to rabbit on about carbon stores and campaigned for its salvation. Now, finally, I had to admit defeat and accept that the sorry looking poplar would probably have to be felled. Another lively tempest and it would almost certainly go crashing through the greenhouse, and while bringing it down safely would need a professional, I could at least remove the branches that were hanging over the topmost panes. Up a ladder with a chainsaw when you're supposed to be bringing the suitcases downstairs. Not ideal really.

Enter James, our caped crusader with a bigger chainsaw than mine. No sniggering at the back please Brian! James was a young tree surgeon, recommended by my brother, with a special emphasis on the word “surgeon.” Well, “tree” as well really I suppose. If the poplar could be saved, James, I was assured, wasn't a man for indiscriminate arboreal armageddon without good reason, and would do everything within his power to rescue it. And to our lasting surprise, he was able to come over from Falmouth today and take a look. Usually when we want anyone to come round and install, repair or remove things that are beyond our comprehension, they seem to need at least three weeks’ notice. In fact, at the time of writing we are still waiting for the electrician, the man who's going to paint the fascia boards and the guttering, and her nephew who is supposed to be fitting a new chimney cowl to replace the one that was blown off in a later autumn storm. But James was here within hours, inspecting the leaning specimen and immediately declaring that yes indeed, it did need to come down. He'd be back tomorrow and while he was here, he'd prune the sycamore that was making a bid for the roof of the house and bring down the long expired elm by the boundary wall. The magpies weren't going to be very happy about that. With the poplar no longer an immediate threat to the greenhouse, we could move on with our day. Ali told James we were about to go on holiday and then added I'd be doing some photography while we were there. Usually people just nod and move the conversation on at this point, but he was genuinely interested and asked if I could show him some of my pictures. So I introduced him to my wall. And a book. Yes, that one with the pink swirling clouds was taken in Iceland. He seemed quite impressed. What a nice young man! As long as the tree stayed upright (or as upright as it could manage) for one more night, we could relax and enjoy the holiday without worrying about what we might be returning to three weeks later.

A little more than twenty-four hours afterwards, as we dozed under a warm Mediterranean October sun on the beach, a message and accompanying video clip came through. “All done,” the message said, as we watched a short video of our hero abseiling up the tree on a rope with all the agility of a particularly large squirrel, a huge chainsaw dangling menacingly from his utility belt. Pictures followed showing a neatly stacked pile of logs as agreed, ready for the splitter and a year or two of seasoning. The poplar was no more, reduced to a fresh supply of winter fuel, and the greenhouse had survived, standing proudly in the autumn sunshine to see another day. Maybe the tomato plants will actually pay for themselves now they're no longer mostly in shadow. Last year's dismal sun starved crop worked out at about a pound for each ripened fruit.

Harsh as it sounds, I don't miss that tree. It was a continual source of discord in the household, and the back garden seems so much more spacious without it. Even in our own little world at home, the landscape is ever changing. Maybe we can mark its demise with a few extra tomatoes in the salad this summer.

Tags:   Menorca Minorca Baleares Balearic Balearics Balears Binimel La landscape landscape photography blue hour long exposure Water Reflection Cloud clouds glow after sunset afterglow Canon evening Spain Espana España Catalunya Catalonia Catalan Cataluña Europe Mediterranean Sea seascape sea shore Beach Binimel-la

© All Rights Reserved

The rain turned to snow and then back to rain, and the snow disappeared from the trees.

Tags:   _W5A1004 canon scenery snow spring

© All Rights Reserved