Today was the highest tide of the month, one of the highest of the year (11.5m!) and I pulled myself of out bed to get to the very end of the Harbour, by the Entrance Lock, for 9:20 and the high point. I know that doesn’t sound like much, but on a grey, dreich Saturday in February, it’s a big deal. Especially with the Chocolate Path closed. Especially in the rain. But wow, I’m glad I did!
When I got to the river, it was still, that moment of balance that I love, and wish I could find in myself. It’s always a rush to get as many shots as possible in that time, and I was cursing because I’d once again forgotten the cameras I wanted to bring, spare film etc. But it was lovely. I lay on the edge of the Harbour, putting an underwater camera in the river (it’s so much better doing that in summer) and watched the way the misty rainclouds moved through the trees.
I think my favourite part was standing on the Entrance Lock gate, and watching the water move. By this time the tide had turned, and the water, which had flooded over the top of the lock gate, was rushing back out to re-join the river, bringing clouds of silt. I only had my phone to take films, but this makes me very happy:
The clouds of silt always look so magical, and I could have watched this for days. I walked on around the Harbour, and had other adventures too – but those will be in my next podcast…
Two mobile phone film-ettes from Ashton Avenue Bridge:
Christmas Day 2017
I’m missing the Chocolate Path so much, and the Outflow, but I hope I can find other places to film.
I always love the fish in the Harbour – from spotting big fish, to the shoals of tiny fish-lets that are in the shallowest parts of the Harbour on the sunny days, flashing silver as they dart in shoals. I took this photo, which was a fantastic failure, but when I borrowed my friend Tim’s GoPro, one of my goals was to get some films.
This was a beautiful, mellow, sunny day. I’d met my friend Matt Gibson for coffee at the Underfall Yard, and our walk lasted about 2 minutes before we stopped by the western jetty and slipway by the Nova Scotia.
Continue reading “Filming (and failing to photograph) fish in the Harbour”
I’ve been borrowing my friend Tim’s GoPro Hero3, and even though I’ve used one before, I’m just making ridiculous mistakes every time I take it out. Pretty much everything that comes off it is me looking multi-chinned, frowning down at the camera.
But this accident was a happy one. I borrowed the camera hoping to take lots of film of heavy rain in puddles, in the Harbour, on the river… but of course it’s been a heatwave! Yesterday it did rain for a little bit, and before the battery died, I shot a tiny film, 27 seconds of usable, I think – but accidentally slo-mo, which I love! Enjoy some raindrops on the surface of the Harbour, slowed right down. Some mistakes make me happy!
I often walk along the River and the Harbour with my partner – it’s not the quickest way to town from home, but it’s a diversion to take photos and enjoy the city, and it usually adds layers of interest and fun to days that would otherwise be about chores… except sometimes it doesn’t.
Continue reading “A bad photography day – and regaining my equilibrium”
This week I went for a walk with Nikki Pugh, who makes really fantastic interactive art. We walked very slowly down the Chocolate Path, looking at the clouds of silt under the surface of the river, and the tide changing from coming in to sitting still at the change point, to watching what happens in the hour after the highest tide.
We both took a lot of photos with the theme of “brown”, and you can see Nikki’s flickr photoset here, and mine in this slideshow (click for more):
I also made a couple of small, quiet videos, of how the water was reacting before and after Vauxhall Bridge:
Come back soon to hear the podcast, and make sure you check out Nikki’s website, and follow her on twitter.
I’ve always loved how different the Avon mud looks, depending on the light, and especially how that changes on a day like today, when the clouds move so fast across the sky. To me, the mud by the disused lock at Cumberland Basin looks like landscapes in miniature, with rivers, ridges of hills, or sand-dunes, and I’m always fascinated at how the changing light makes different parts of it jump out at me.
After a week of intense, bright sunshine, and heatwave conditions, the breezes felt so good, and I’ve been waiting for a day like this to film on, and make something that’s a meditative piece for me. I should probably go back and film for longer, and make a long piece that I could have as part of a show/installation, but I wanted to see what it was like today.