Recently in Photography Category

In case you're wondering, dear reader, Edinburgh continues to be lovely. It isn't always sunny, or warm, but it is still magical to me.

These photos, like all of mine these days, are hosted on Flickr, and can be viewed in different sizes by clicking on them.

Every Friday, the kids and I get to spend the day together. We have some very good times, and I've taken some fun shots. Now I have the time to post some!

16 June 2006

Waiting for the bus

They made a sand castle, sort of. (The little one with the sticks. The other one was someone else's work)

All fall down.

2 June 2006

Portrait of Fiona and me, by Alex

Portrait of Alex, by Fiona

"We're best friends"

Watch out, Fiona! There's a cow!

Fiona meets a cow she likes in the Cow Parade

Alex and Fiona meet Robocow

In between trips to London, I've been so busy studying that I've taken very few shots around Edinburgh. Of those, only a few are really worth your consideration, gentle reader.

The roses are past their best in George V Park, but I still love them.

Taken 15 June 2006

Taken 15 June 2006

Splendidly bizzare monkey puzzle in the Botanics.

Taken 1 June 2006

Tender shoots of holly, Arboretum Avenue

Taken 1 June 2006

I've been down in London a good deal over the last few weeks, studying for an exam. I brought my phone, of course, which means I brought my camera.

I rarely find the classic London landmarks inspirational for photography. They're too...well...big.

But the pavement by Tower Bridge really got my interest.

Taken 17 May 2006

Taken 17 May 2006

Taken 17 May 2006

The leaves of an ornamental plant near the Tower also caught my eye.

Taken 13 June 2006

On one of my visits, I walked by the crew setting up for a concert on the Tower grounds. The ironmongery was interesting.

Taken 23 May 2006

Taken 23 May 2006

I was also fascinated by the bright yellow locks on the gates to Trinity Square, a tiny park dedicated to naval war dead near the course hotel.

Taken 24 May 2006

Rainbow over the Thames

Taken 23 May 2006

Overall, though, London does not appeal to me photographically. I guess my heart is in Edinburgh.

Friday, though cold, was a bright and sunny day - perfect for a family expedition. We took Alex's bike to the John Muir pathway along the Firth of Forth, just outside of Musselburgh. It's time for Alex to get more confidence in his bike and himself on it. He needs to ride faster if we're going to take his stabilisers off.

It was a good ride - he started slow and hesitant, but I started challenging him to races. As the trip went on, I found myself striding less and running more to keep up with him. He was thrilled to be pushing me, but insisted after a time that we were "a team" and should cross every minor finishing line at the same time.

At the midpoint of the ride, we all stopped on the beach. The kids threw rocks into the water. I found a couple of old bikes on the stony shore, slowly rusting in the salt and being buried by the tides.

The first bike, frame and cables

Taken 14 April 2006

Cables round the stem of the bike

Taken 14 April 2006

Pedal mount on the second bike

Taken 14 April 2006

Rust replaces chrome on the second bike

Taken 14 April 2006

Handlebar mount on the second bike

Taken 14 April 2006

Sprockets in stone, bike 1

Taken 14 April 2006

Stone in sprockets, bike 2

Taken 14 April 2006

Wheel mount, bike 2

Taken 14 April 2006

Not just a bike, but the headphones for a walkman too!

Taken 14 April 2006

Handrail hardware by the firth

Taken 14 April 2006

Every time I go to J Hewit & Sons, my favourite bookbinding supplier, I feel the overwhelming desire to bring a camera, tripod, and a day's free time. I don't think I will ever tire of taking pictures there.

I could take the "industrial site" type pictures of all of the machinery they use to dye leathers, or the "variety of stuff" pictures of the rolls and rolls of finished hides, or the "run down melancholy" shots of the light from the dusty windows falling on the worn boards of the upper floor. I'd photograph the staff, who always treat me so well, if it wouldn't embarrass them.

But I don't, because I am there to buy. I did take a few shots of the pale leathers they had piled on the Low Value Shelf upstairs.

Edges of a stack of pale goatskin

Taken 7 April 2006

The same grained goatskin, with the marks of the stretching clips still visible.

Taken 7 April 2006

Pale calfskin, un-grained.

Taken 7 April 2006

Maybe I can find a market for a feature article on the company - its history, its processes, its business. I'd love to do it. I'd love to have the excuse!

My phonecam developed a spot about a week ago. Ugly, in the way, and depressing. It ruined a number of photos that I really wanted to take.

Taken 1 April 2006

Occasionally, I could get a shot in that it didn't ruin, but that was rare.

Taken 29 March 2006

Fortunately, my phone insurance covers the functionality of the whole instrument, including the camera. I called Vodafone, and they sent a new phone to replace the old one. So now I have my camera back!

I tried it out on Fiona this morning.

Taken 4 April 2006

Then I was back to taking the pictures I've been missing.

Leaf growing through a fence, Newington

Taken 4 April 2006

Shadow of a doorknob, looking like a warmer day

Taken 4 April 2006

Cut-off fence post.

Taken 4 April 2006

Framing the world, one tree at a time (this photo has been cropped)

Taken 4 April 2006

Yay new phone!

...and it loves me back.

Taken 6 March 2006

I love this city, too, though it doesn't show its affection in the same way.

I love the Botanics, and they show me the delicate drops of rain on a branch.

Taken 7 March 2006

The first yellow flowers come out for me, even on a cold day.

Taken 9 March 2006

The side doors of St Giles Cathedral on the Royal Mile stand solemn and graceful.

Taken 9 March 2006

And the door handles from the back of the cathedral have their own rhythm. (Yes, this has been cropped.)

Taken 9 March 2006

While I was playing with the kids in the snow, I saw a few things worth photographing. Usually, I can't do macro photography with other people around - I get too distracted by the company to really see things. But sometimes, with the right people, I can still make it work.

The snow fell thick onto the rosemary.

Taken 3 March 2006

On this one, you can see the individual snowflakes (cropped).

Taken 3 March 2006

The holly, too, cupped the snow.

Taken 3 March 2006

My favourite of the day, probably, is this shot. The hole in the top of the fence post and the angle of the sun left a spiral of fallen snow.

Taken 3 March 2006

(Miraculously, none of these photos show my usual tendency to want to abandon all colour photography in the snow!)

And, from a previous dramatic weather day, hail in a hedge top.

Taken 1 March 2006

The last couple of weeks have included some really good family time around the Sutherland household, for no particular reason that I can put my finger on.

Last weekend, Fiona decided she was "full up" of wearing trousers (meaning she didn't want to any more), and stripped them off. She was clearly very comfortable in this state.

Taken 26 February 2006

Alex, meanwhile, scampered around and around his prone dad until he fell down giggling.

Taken 26 February 2006

Finally, Fiona got him to burn some of his energy off pushing her round the room in the block trolley.

Taken 26 February 2006

This week's notable burst of photography was Friday, when the snow was falling thick and fast. We went out into the back garden to play in it until we got cold.

Fiona with snow in her hair.

Taken 3 March 2006

Alex, inevitably, picked up a toy gun to play with.

Taken 3 March 2006

Fiona, after a time, was troubled by the snow sticking to her gloves

Taken 3 March 2006

So we all went inside and had hot chocolate. Fiona likes hers foamed with my latte milk foamer. Alex prefers mini marshmallows in his.

Later, we went out to the local garden centre to get materials for planting basil. En route, Alex decided to try making snow angels. This one turned out rather well. (I very nearly tried one myself, but Fiona was getting a bit wigged out, and having Mom lie down in the snow wasn't going to do her any good at all.)

Taken 3 March 2006

Sadly, the kids got cold on the way back from the garden centre, and much weeping ensued. Fiona turned out to have been sickening with a cold anyway, and spent Saturday fevered and listless. She recovered quickly, crunching through the remnants of the snow with me to the shops that evening.

Today was more fun again, but sadly unphotographed. You will simply have to imagine it, dear reader.

(Have I been enjoying the family more as my energy levels have lifted? Probably. Why have they lifted? Because this is the view when I walk to the bus in the morning.

Taken 2 March 2006

And this is the view when I get back in the evening.

Taken 1 March 2006

Note the visible sun!)

I'm not sure what I think of this photo. Taken in Greyfriars Kirkyard, Edinburgh, while failing to find a geocache.

Taken 25 February 2006

Yesterday, while I was walking in the Botanics, I came under a sudden assault of hail. I had to shelter under an umbrella under a tree - one layer of protection was not enough.

After the white stuff stopped falling, it seemed to vanish. Only a few balls were left to convince me that it wasn't a dream.

Taken 21 February 2006

The hailstones didn't last, but the raindrops were beautiful as well.

Taken 21 February 2006

This shot reminds me of one of my favourite poems, No Road by Philip Larkin

Taken 21 February 2006

I've had a few other photos building up that didn't really deserve their own entries. Of possible interest:

The sacred cow is coming home to roost.

Taken 20 February 2006

Plant in the car park at the Cuddy Brae. Very red!

Taken 19 February 2006

Bus stop hardware...one of those tiny details of life that looks so good up close.

Taken 19 February 2006

Another Friday, another adventure.

Fiona had a birthday party to go to quite late today (4:30 - 6), so I had half-intended to spend the morning quietly so as to leave her with energy for the afternoon. But the day was so sunny, and the kids so chirpy, that I decided we all needed a trip out. There's been a geocache near us, unfound, for some time: Craigmillar's One of Four. Off we went.

Alex pointed the way.

Taken 17 February 2006

Fiona checked our heading with a compass.

Taken 17 February 2006

We lucked out. We found the cache really quickly, got good loot, left our trades, and thought, "now what?"

So we walked on round the castle, whcih was magnificent in the glorious sun.

Taken 17 February 2006

Fiona took her own path, at her own pace.

Taken 17 February 2006

We saw lots of trees.

From far away.

Taken 17 February 2006

From up close.

Taken 17 February 2006

And all wrinkly.

Taken 17 February 2006

Ones that look like dragons.

Taken 17 February 2006

And ones that look like island chains! (Cropped, I confess.)

Taken 17 February 2006

Then we rolled back down the hill (no, really, Alex wanted to barrel roll. Fiona tried to join him, but needed a bit of help.) After a brief visit home to lunch, nap and change clothes, we went to Lauren's party. The kids were perky as they waited for the bus.

Taken 17 February 2006

Fiona loved the party, particularly when painted as a puppy. (Yes, I know it's out of focus, but she was dancing.)

Taken 17 February 2006

It was a magnificent day. Alex impressed me with his maturity at the party (I asked him to sit out the party games after he won the first one, to give the smaller kids a chance. He not only did so, but he made the effort to smile about it as well. Wow.) Fiona was funny and beautiful. Then they had a delightful bath and went to bed.

Today was my birthday, and a very good one it was, too. From the flowers the kids gave me first thing, to the cards and the presents that started my day so well, to the very good day with my colleagues at work, it was both ordinary and magical. Even got my usual walk through the Botanics, taking the odd picture along the way, seemed a little special, though I don't know if that shows in these phiotos.

Something sprouting through the rocks

Taken 15 February 2006

Something about this drystane wall spoke to me too.

Taken 15 February 2006

Then, on the walk home, I was struck by the beauty of these balustrades in the raking sunlight.

Taken 15 February 2006

But that was nothing to the sky over Calton Hill! (Photo cropped to remove a crane)

Taken 15 February 2006

The best moments came at the end of the day - playing tag with the kids on the walk home in the last of the sunlight. Noticing that Alex has finally figured out how to moderate his pace so Fiona can catch him. Chocolate cake. Silly kids in their bubble bath. A chance to talk to Martiin in the evening (and to thank him - I am aware that the flowers, the presents, and the cake only seemed to appear magically at the right moments!)

In some ways, having such an ordinary working-day birthday was better than having an all special day, because it made me look at my everyday life afresh and see it sparkle. I hope I can hold onto that for a while yet!

A mouse took a walk in the deep dark wood...

Actually, it was a whole family out searching for the Butterdean Wood geocache, but two keen little children found the idea that a Gruffalo might be lurking among the trees pretty exciting. Martin, clever bunny, proposed a caching expedition to get us out in the beautiful (if chilly) sunshine, and this was a good cache to look for. It was about half an hour's drive from home, taking us over flat paths that were just wild enough to seem adventurous. They were also perhaps a little muddy.

I brought my phone camera, of course, and stopped from time to time to take pictures.

Fungus on a fallen log.

Taken 4 February 2006

Alex took the GPS and went ahead, following the arrow and talking of treasure. Playing Zelda has sharpened his taste for quests and adventures. He waited patiently whenever I would stop to take a shot.

The twisted stem of some vine - I don't know what kind. (This picture has been cropped.)

Taken 4 February 2006

Two leaves on a twisting vine.

Taken 4 February 2006

Fiona strode along the path, first with one parent, then with the other. At two, she is rock-steady on her feet and entirely unafraid of any mystery the woods might hold. She has been a strong walker for some time, and I think she enjoyed the challenge. When we were walking together and I would step aside to take a picture, she would venture onward without a backward glance.

Fir cone among the leaves.

Taken 4 February 2006

Eventually, Alex relinquished the GPS in favour of a stick sword, and Fionaberry took over as navigator. (We pretty much followed the path.) She thought my eTrex was a camera, and every now and then would stop, hold it to her face, bend very close to the ground, and say, "I take a picture. Cheese!" before going on. Not a landscape photographer, I guess...

Tangle of sticks, a pattern shot.

Taken 4 February 2006

Lichen on a branch. It's almost blue!

Taken 4 February 2006

Alex was soon wrapped up in Zelda-esque adventures, which reminded me vividly of my own childhood games. The forest around our cabin was always Lothlorien and Mirkwood, Stephen R Donaldson's The Land and Sherwood Forest. For him, East Lothian became Link's country, and he crept and ran through it like the hero of his favourite Game Boy game. I'm happy that our mostly urban life has opportunities for that kind of imaginative play.

He has not yet developed the love of the woods and trees for their own sake that I have. But I learned that a bit older than four. Maybe one day he'll see it.

The pattern of decay on the limb of a fallen tree reveals so much of its underlying structure.

Taken 4 February 2006

Concentric rings on tree bark. I don't know why this occurs.

Taken 4 February 2006

Alex used his stick to open "gates", mostly by keying his name into the trees. This one, in particular, required a number of passwords to be entered. We touched certain parts of the branches and said certain letters, spelling out our names to pass onward along the path.

Taken 4 February 2006

By the time we found the cache, a good half mile from the car park, the kids were running out of adventurous spirit. They weren't crabby, or unhappy, or even tired, but they were more focused on getting the "treasure" than on telling themselves (and us) stories on the way.

We found the box easily enough - it's both well hidden from the casual passer by and easy to find if you know where to look - and there were toys enough for both of them. Alex chose a deck of cards, and Fiona took a mini pencil set. I left some stone animals and an amethyst in trade, and we turned back to the car.

Although she wanted to be carried early on for the return journey, Fiona soon regained her energy and did a good deal of walking on the way back to the car. We covered over a mile as a family, and she managed about two thirds of that. Alex walked the whole distance, and wasn't worn out at the end.

We left the wood as the sun began to head for the horizon.

Late sunshine on brown leaves. The shot looks warmer than it was!

Taken 4 February 2006

It was a cold day after a cold night. I still needed to get out and get some light at lunchtime, even though the wind nipped at my hands and the tips of my ears. And it was worth it - look what I found!

I first noticed, walking by the Water of Leith near Stockbridge, that the edges of the water sparkled with little bright circles. Looking closer, I realised that they were balls of ice, hovering above the water level.

How did they come to be there? The water must have frozen overnight, along the edge of the burn, then thawed in the morning. As the sheets of ice broke up, the weight of the balls lightened until the leaves could spring back a little, pulling the last spheres up out of the water.

Or the fairies left them behind when they were playing marbles.

Ice balls.

Taken 31 January 2006

Today was astonishingly cold. It was one of those days where I step outside the door in the morning, then duck back in to get my gloves on properly before venturing out for real. The sky was clear as crystal, and I watched a flock of fourteen blackbirds fly above me as I walked to the bus. The breath from my open-mouthed smile clouded in front of my eyes.

Things didn't thaw as the morning progressed, either. I took a brief walk at lunchtime (after spending most of the hour indoors, with companions who object to frostbite and nicknames like Nine-Fingers and No-Ears), and the world was still frozen. Wow.

This is not an aerial shot of the antarctic desert from a high-flying airplaine, but part of the pattern of ice on a windscreen. The driver will have had an interesting time this evening.

Taken 30 January 2006

Frost-rimmed leaves, a pattern shot.

Taken 30 January 2006

This evening the fog descended like cotton wool. It was as dramatic as the ice, but a lot less photogenic.

I was on a course on Tuesday and Wednesday, on leadership and the bank's culture. And things did not go well - one of my colleagues did not demonstrate the skills or values around which the workshop was built. (Actually, he did not demonstrate the basic manners that we expect from adults, nor the courage and grace to apologise when he sobered up. But I digress.)

While I was outside in the hotel's extremely sparse grounds, cooling off, I took a few pictures. Most came out badly, but these two are the best of the lot.

These trees with the dangling seed heads are pretty common, but it takes a lot of luck to catch one not waving in the wind.

Taken 25 January 2006

The spiral growth of seed heads on an ornamental shrub. This photo has been cropped.

Taken 25 January 2006

Actually, the best part of the day was the way that my other colleagues supported me in that difficult situation. I found one jerk, yes, but eight or ten trustworthy people. They even joked about taking him out into the car park, with sundry West Side Story references, but I didn't want to damage the plants. ;-)

It's been a while since I've posted photos, mostly because I've been too ill to take many. The flu this year has been dreadful, and it made its mark as it swept through our household. Alex was ill week before last, Martin got it last week (and still coughing now), I fell ill last Thursday and didn't really resurface until Sunday, and now Fiona is just coming out of a bad bout.

I have taken a few pictures over the past week or so, as I have walked my way back to health. But the muse hasn't really been there. Here are the ones that made the cut.

The first crocus leaves, peeping up from the soil at the foot of my road. I think they are in for some difficult times.

Taken 12 January 2006

Gate hardware, Drum Street. One of the few manmade items I've been drawn to photograph, mostly because it looks so human!.

Taken 12 January 2006

Wrinkled rose hep, on a back path through Gilmerton.

Taken 12 January 2006

Grass underwater in the Water of Leith. (This photograph has been cropped and its colour altered to reduce the reflections off of the water.)

Taken 18 January 2006

View through the fence, Powderhall.

Taken 18 January 2006

Reddening ivy 1, Powderhall.

Taken 18 January 2006

Reddening ivy 2, Powderhall.

Taken 18 January 2006

Although the weekdays this winter have been really good (because of my desk lamp and my lunchtime walks), the weekends have been very difficult. This one has been no exception. Not only has the weather been overcast these last days, but Alex' recent illness left him unwilling to toerate bright lights. I spent yesterday in a dim house, and by today it was starting to tell on me. I felt unfocussed, off-rhythm, and deeply depressed. I wanted to curl up in a corner and simply cease to exist for a while. (This does not mean I wanted to die. I simply didn't want to exist.)

Martin, saw me sitting by my light box, leaning my forehead on it like it was my only friend. So, though he was unwell, he sent me out of the house while Fiona napped and Alex played video games. I decided to do something energetic and definitive: I would climb Arthur's Seat, and take some pictures on the way.

So I did. There wasn't a lot of light even out of doors, but what there was, I got. (I also took 75 pictures. Luckily for your bandwidth, dear reader, my usual 33-50% good photo ratio did not hold up! I was just short of 20%, partly because of the low light.)

Photos of big stuff

My camera isn't much on the big shots - I feel that it makes them all look like snapshots. (Or maybe I'm not a landscape photographer...) But I got a few wider-angle pictures that were special enough to post.

On the way up, looking north.

Taken 7 January 2006

The moon rose over the ridge as I left. (Note that this photo has been cropped)

Taken 7 January 2006

Coming down the hill, toward Newington.

Taken 7 January 2006

Rock shots

Stone from the wall by the Commonwealth Pool

Taken 7 January 2006

Fragmented rock at the summit

Taken 7 January 2006

Stone from the wall by the Pollock Halls

Taken 7 January 2006

Plant shots

A single thistle head in the grass

Taken 7 January 2006

Gorse blossoms

Taken 7 January 2006

Dead thistle heads.

Taken 7 January 2006

Gorse against the sky

Taken 7 January 2006

Bramble leaves

Taken 7 January 2006

Moss and dead grass

Taken 7 January 2006

Stone in the hillside

Taken 7 January 2006

Seed heads against the sky

Taken 7 January 2006

Back at work today, moved onto a project that I'm not expecting to be as fun as the one I've been on for the last 18 months. (That is a high standard - very little I have ever done professionally has been so enjoyable.) The rest of my gang is still together, launched onto something else, leaving me with the strong impulse to sulk and kick the furniture.

Rather than do that, I took a walk to the Botanics at lunchtime, getting my dose of daylight and my usual smattering of photographs. There were some OK ones, which I don't intend to post, and some entirely uninteresting ones. But four really stood out.

Fern leaf, belly-up on the grass.

Taken 3 January 2006

Pattern: the dead leaves of a palm, still hanging from the trunk (this photo has been cropped, a thing I usually don't do.)

Taken 3 January 2006

Lone bamboo shoot

Taken 3 January 2006

Bamboo thicket...another "pattern" shot.

Taken 3 January 2006

I also stopped by the California Bay Laurel again, just to smell the leaves. Then, completely accidently, I found the Botanic's only tan oak (Lithocarpus densiflorus), which I had planned to search for this month. Just walked straight to it, thinking, "That looks like tan oak." And so it was.

So the last day before I go back to work, the New Year's Bank Holiday, we decide to go to the beach for the day.

Actually, we managed about 45 minutes on North Berwick beach itself before the kids got too cold. And with everything shut for the bank holiday, we didn't even get to take refuge in any warm place but the car. Martin did a bunch of photography with the big cool camera while Alex threw rocks in the water and Fiona walked around exploring the sandy world. (There was also a certain amount of climbing on rocks, running about and shrieking, and generalised beach fun.)

Nonetheless, I did see a couple of things that just needed photographing, and as usual, the camera phone came through!

Rock and seaweed

Taken 2 January 2006

Roseate seaweed

Taken 2 January 2006

Rocks and sea glass. (I am particularly fond of sea glass, for long complicated reasons.)

Taken 2 January 2006

I love the dark trails in the sand under this bit of seaweed.

Taken 2 January 2006

Yeah, yeah, more seaweed. But I like it.

Taken 2 January 2006

I did a bit of colour messing with this shot - but only a tiny bit. I love the textures, but I know I may be alone in that.

Taken 2 January 2006

This is the prize shot. I tried it with the big fancy camera, but actually, this one from the phonecam is the best of the day. In my opinion.

Taken 2 January 2006

(And, by the way, happy new year.)

Although we didn't get the snowstorms that the north of England has been enjoying (?) the last day or so, we got a dust of snow last night. Today was cold enough that that dust didn't go away. I was out in it, getting some zippers for making sofa cushion covers, and believe me, it was cold. (Yes, yes, for Edinburgh, a mild day for the arctic, or Toronto, but I'm a Californian and a wimp at that.)

I took a walk through the Meadows, looking for things to photograph in the snow, but found more on the city streets.

Cobbles on Buccleuch Street:

Taken 28 December 2005

Leaf from an Edinburgh University courtyard:

Taken 28 December 2005

Ice crystals between the cobbles:

Taken 28 December 2005

But the richest venue for photographs turned out to be the walk back from the bus to my house, over the football pitch and beside the weedy path:

Dead grass in the snow:

Taken 28 December 2005

Live grass in the snow:

Taken 28 December 2005

The blades corkscrew in the cold:

Taken 28 December 2005

Snow on the weeds:

Taken 28 December 2005

Due to a combination of factors (longer lunchtime walks, better camera phone, encouragement by commenters), I've been taking a lot more pictures of late.

I've been in love with photography since I was 15 or 16, when I got a 35mm camera (a Pentax ME Super) from my parents along with free run of the darkroom. I spent a year or two exploring the world as seen through a lens, and inhaling vast quantities of extremely interesting chemicals.

One of the things I learned early on is that other people don't see the same things I see. Yes, we both look at a tree and go "Big thing, brown on bottom, green on top." But something in me is also going "Oooh! Oooh! Pattern and regularity of leaves as they grow, shapes of trunks and branches! Wow!" Seriously. For every tree unless I consciously shut it off. I walk through the Botanic Gardens with my mouth open, or smiling irrepressibly, when I go alone. I also get that feeling from a lot of repetitive patterns and textures. (Ask Martin about my reaction to the hobbit cloaks in the Lord of the Rings films.)

But I found, showing my "Oooh! Oooh! Pattern!" shots to other people, that they didn't get the same buzz. My mother once said it looked like I'd just pointed the camera at everything and taken a picture. The two decades since then have been spent, at least in part, trying to find ways to show other people what I see all the time. I do things like choosing a contrasting element against the patterned background, or photographing patterns with other redeeming features, such as good colour saturation.

But the other day, I found a link to a set of photos by professional photographer Jim Brandenburg. Although I'm intrigued by the specific challenge he set himself - 90 days' photography permitting only one exposure a day - what really delighted me is that some of his pictures are ones I would take myself (if I were his technical equal). He can use pattern, and pattern alone, to lead the viewer into the shot. His quaking aspen shot, the Patterns of Branches, and most of all his picture of Norway Pine grove are all part of what I have been trying to capture for twenty years.

I'm not discouraged to have seen these shots - far from it. I'm excited by the chance to learn from them. Maybe I can find other ways to lead people into the world I see, and show them how beautiful it is.

Today, at lunchtime, I made my first attempt at a "pattern" photograph that did not use a contrasting foreground element to focus the viewer.

Taken 20 December 2005

On an unrelated note, I also got my camera to do this ghostly image (entirely untweaked, I promise you!). It's of the disused Scotland Street tunnel, which has one brave plant trying to eke out a single-leaf existence in its shadows.

Taken 20 December 2005

I think I need to set more challenging objectives for my lunchtime walks. I found two of the three madrones (Arbutus menziesii) on the first day of searching. The hunt did take me into a bed that I hadn't wandered through before, but actually, one of the madrones is visible from the road outside the gardens.

Anyway, the proof:

Taken 13 December 2005

One of the reasons I like madrone so much is its papery bark. On the younger branches, it peels off in entire sheets, exposing the green underbark. On older wood, it alligators like a charred log, which is much less dramatic.

Taken 13 December 2005

The thirteenth was an overcast day, which made it difficult to take photos in natural light (I don't use the camera's light). The ones I got were either against the sky (this one has been lightened considerably to bring out the red in the leaves),

Taken 13 December 2005

...or lucky shots, still enough not to blur but slow enough to get the tremendous colour saturation that comes from overcast day photography.

Taken 13 December 2005

I will have to pick a more evasive plant for my next quest.

Over the past few weeks, I've been engaged in an occasional search to find my favourite California native plant, the California bay laurel, in the Botanic Gardens near work. As you can see from the link, although the website has a bed location, it does not have a clickable link to the bed map. This made me wonder if the entry were old and outdated. Was the tree still there?

Even if the bed map entry was correct, I wasn't sure where in the bed the tree would be. That bed happens to include a building as well as a number of plants, so it's not the easiest place to search. Particularly for a plant I wasn't sure was there.

But today, I found it.

The proof:

Taken 12 December 2005

I knew the tree before I saw the label, of course.

The bay laurel grows in all of the places I spent my childhood. It's an integral part of the species mix up at my parents' cabin, where it was a traditional headache cure for the native Americans in the area. It grows on the UC Berkeley campus, and indeed I got into occasional trouble for climbing it there. And for many years, one grew just outside my bedroom window in Piedmont.

The fragrance a broken leaf brings me right back to those places and those times. I brought one back to the office (bad of me to take it, I know). Each time I smelled it, I had another tiny flashback to my past, and another microburst of homesickness. The mix of bitterness and memory reflects the nature of the bay laurel itself.

Bay laurel is in the family Lauraceae, the same family as European bay, laurus nobilis, (as well as cinnamon, avocado and sassafrass, but that's another story). Bay laurel has about a third more resin ducts in its longer, narrower leaves than its European cousin. The fragrance and flavour are slightly different between the species: the California bay is sweeter and sharper, the European slightly more bitter. It can be used in cookery much the way its relative is, but one should use only part of a leaf where the recipe calls for a whole bay leaf. Californian bay is also more of a tree and less of a hedge than its European counterpart, and is useless for topiary.

Soup, anyone?

Taken 12 December 2005

(Next target: Arbutus menziesii, also known as Pacific Madrone.)

Ivy stems.

Taken 8 December 2005

It was a damp and muddy Monday for a lunchtime ramble. I was going to go to the Botanics to try to track down a California bay laurel (the tree I miss most from California). I stopped on the Rocheid Path to take some pictures and chat to a chance-met colleague, and never made it to the Botanics.

Fallen leaf on mossy wall.

Taken 5 December 2005

Golden leaves and black stems.

Taken 5 December 2005

I don't know what this wee plant is, but it's cute.

Taken 5 December 2005

Surprise! We're in the middle of a city!

Taken 5 December 2005

I know that not all of these pictures are worthy of Ansel Adams. My camera is extremely limited in what it can do, and even with a good camera I can't always capture what it is that I find beautiful. I simply hope that the delight I felt in seeing these things comes through in the images.

It was a lovely day, cold but bright. The autumn is turning to true winter, with bitter winds, with the last leaves dropping from the trees. But with the bright sunshine, I hardly cared about the cold. I walked along the Rocheid path by the Water of Leith, then through the Royal Botanic Gardens back into Canonmills and back to work.

The last leaves on the oak tree on the Rocheid Path.

Taken 29 November 2005

Piece of a wrought iron fence, Arboretum Avenue. Sunlight and shade.

Taken 29 November 2005

Taken 29 November 2005

Holly leaves, Aboretum Avenue. I love the shapes of these leaves, but I think I need a better background next time..

Taken 29 November 2005

Red leaves with the green, Royal Botanic Gardens.

Taken 29 November 2005

With a walk like that, on a day like this, the world is a good place.

I changed my phone a few months ago, leaving my old Nokia for a new Sony Ericsson K750i. The ostensible reason was that the Nokia's keyboard was wearing out, and I could no longer reliably answer calls. The real reason, of course, was that phone camera technology has moved on. Martin got a better camera phone, and all of a sudden I wanted one.

The new phone coincided with a greater emphasis on my lunchtime walks. The past few years, I've tried to be rigourous about going out at lunchtimes, since noticing the effect a midday walk has on my Seasonal Affective Disorder. Between the weather and my work patterns, this autumn has been a particularly good one for walks - possibly one of the reasons I have not sunk so deep into myself thus far this year.

I tend to go along the Water of Leith Walkway, through the local park, across the Botanic Gardens or by whatever other approximations of nature I can find in an hour. These times refresh my spirit, and my new phone has been a good tool to make myself see and appreciate the things I pass.

Here are the best of the bunch:

Taken 19 September 2005

Taken 19 September 2005

Taken 29 September 2005

Taken 17 October 2005

Taken 18 November 2005