On a scorchingly hot Saturday we set off for a stroll uphill and down a few dales. By lunchtime we were thirsty and couldn’t resist a quick pint of Gingerbeard and a smuggled in Cornish pasty in the pub garden. My authentic cover story was that a Big Bag of Pork Scratchings and a pint would make an authentic hiker’s lunch (and give me an excuse for chewing when the landlord popped out for frequent fag breaks).
We sat back in our chairs sipping our ale and watching the clouds scudding across the sky. “The farmer must be burning hay,” I remarked as I watched stalks of grass rise and circle in great swirls that floated towards us.
But when the winds whipped up the air directly overhead while in the rest of the village it was eerily still I realised that it was convection of a different sort that made the cut hay flail and twirl above us: we were caught in the Brassington (micro)twister.
The fancy black edges to this week’s self-portrait are not merely affectation (though that too I suppose) – this is from my 2nd batch of medium format contact prints. I’m amazed by the quality of them. Sure, there is plenty of dust where I wasn’t rigorous in cleaning the negs and the glass, but still, the quality is immense.
These mini pics are so good in comparison with the negative scans that I’ve resolved not to use negative scans again. I’d been pretty frustrated with grain on my scans, but I realise that it’s probably more to do with the scanning process than the quality of the emulsion. Treat them the way
nature science intended and they’ll shine.