In Search of Autumn (2024)
Autumnal Landscape Photography
Hey everyone! How's it going?
I can never decide which is the ‘better’ season for photography - autumn or winter.
When autumn comes around, I tell myself that it has to be autumn; the slow and deliberate transition of colour, the weather as dramatic and changeable as those colours that herald in the season, mean you can head out on any day and find something resonant and dramatic to photograph. And yet, I have much more fun in the snow. There is a sense of peace and tranquility that is as meditative as photography itself that connects with me.
The anarchy of Autumn or the wonder of Winter?
searching for essence
Which leads me to ask, what am I looking for photographically? Is it something that just looks pretty under the riot of colour then line everything up according to the rule of thirds and hope for the best? Or am I searching for something deeper? I tell myself it's the latter; the endless search for the essence of a season, how it feels, what it represents and with that in mind, go in search of the icons that are associated with it and make the best composition out of them that I can, be it the extravagance of colour or the windswept vista of storms.
Sometimes though it's all too easy to get lost in the weeds; overcome by the explosive vibrance of Nature’s final throes that I simply end up capturing the spectacle at the expense of the greater moment. Somewhat ironic when what I consider a meditative pursuit requires a degree of meditation in the first place. Looking back through my captures for the season, I become anxious if I’ve actually achieved success in this matter or if I’ve just gotten lucky. That sense of fulfillment, the feeling of ‘yeah, this connects!’ still eludes me. Photography is a patient teacher.
colour riot
Like last year, Autumn was dominated by a riot of colour and celestial explosions and predictably my photography this time around was undoubtedly dominated by the incredible aurora event of Oct 10th. Beginning earlier that week with a fairly brief, low key display but one that featured an amazing STEVE complete with rippling picket fence effect (read the full write up here), it culminated in one of the most bonkers astronomical events I’ve ever seen, surpassing the displays of Nov 5th the previous year and the May event earlier this year.
The experience was nothing short of awe and when confronted with such scenes, all I can ever do is laugh unashamedly at the sheer sublime spectacle of it all! I remember back during May’s display when I thought that I would probably never see anything as good as that again and yet, just 5 months later, here I am wondering the same thing again.
Aversion to Allen
On to more traditional subjects then and given the success I had last year at Allen Banks, this was my first port of call this year to try and repeat that success and hopefully explore the gorge a little further. Sadly, only half of the trails were accessible and those that were open still didn’t have any colour yet.
I’ve found Allen Banks can be such a frustrating enigma in this respect - it seems to choose when it wants to be flamboyant as I found out earlier in the year when the blossom of Spring occurred so erratically. It would appear that it has the same cavalier way about dying as it does about living which means I came away with nothing of worth; barely an Instagram piece. Bloody place!
As is usual I’ve found, give me 6 months and I’ll look at those shots again in a completely different light.
Targetting Target Wood
I feel my best results came when I pootled along to Target Wood near Hexham; a favourite little go-to retreat of mine. As with my visit to Hindhope Linn in the summer, I came here primarily for a reccie to see if Birkey Burn Falls is a good candidate for recreating Bierstadt’s ‘Redwood’ painting.
Despite the time of year, Autumn had yet to fully touch Target Wood, but it meant that I could grab this image of the last rays of the afternoon sun poking through a gap in the trees and illuminate the first kiss of Autumn. The forest floor was carpeted with fallen red leaves and yet, much of the woodland remained green.
Whilst I was here and the light was being kind, I re-shot one of my favourite images from the previous year which I felt could be improved upon (I was never happy with where I had been standing when I took the shot and the light was a little bland). This new photo I feel tells a lot more of a story, is more sympathetic and informs more of the geography of the scene.
discovering dipton
In contrast, despite only being a stone’s throw away, Dipton Wood was dramatically different having undergone almost a full transition. Here, the woodland was an absolute riot of colour and despite not being the biggest woodland in the world, I took more photographs with a greater diversity here than I probably did anywhere else.
I also identified a few areas that would look great under a blanket of snow as well as (I think) areas of garlic and bluebells so this will definitely be an area I'll be returning to often.
hard work hareshaw
Conversely, my hike along Hareshaw Burn was, surprisingly, really disappointing. I don’t think I’ve ever visited in the autumn before (and if I did it must have been forgettable) which would explain why I found that, despite the beauty of the burn itself and its causeway through the ravine, the woodland here is a messy and scrappy affair. With less than a handful of suitable photography locations and subjects, namely the twin oak and the beech trees that reach out across the ravine you find halfway along the trail, I’m not sure if I’ll ever revisit this place for anything autumnal.
It reminded me of how frustratingly difficult it was in the Spring to find a decent composition in Morpeth’s Pegswood and Bluebell Wood. Its a shame because some of the views down the ravine at higher elevations are fantastic but there’s just too much scrap and saplings in the way and finding a decent vantage point that peers beyond it all is just too dangerous as you risk a drop into the ravine.
As seems to be a common complaint of mine at this longitude, (see Middle Burn Falls) the light refuses to play ball every time and its only on my way back to the carpark that the sun ever decides to pop out by which time its too low in the sky, facing in the wrong direction and there’s only a brief window of opportunity left. Hareshaw Burn is, however, a great place for waterside and waterfall photography, even if in some places you have to risk your neck, but for autumnal stuff, this place just doesn’t work for me.
Moonlit Farewell
Inbetween it all, the end of October saw me in search of a celestial visitor in the form of Comet ATLAS. A combination of cloudy evenings and certain apps telling me the comet was in a completely different location meant I never got to see it with the naked eye or photograph it at its peak. But one clear night when the moon was out meant I was afforded this brief window of opportunity to catch it over Bolam Lake before being lost to space forever.
cheers
Autumn, then, was a mixed bag of events and locations but I think I came away with a decent haul overall even if in some instances I question whether my 'heart' was involved. Given the passion I have for my photography, I could say my heart is always involved but finding the heart of the subject isn't always successful - a discrepancy remains, like the cable is plugged in at both ends but there's an essential wire missing. Certainly there are a few shots I grabbed that I think I can hopefully turn into saleable prints and that aurora display will forever go down in legend, but the search continues.
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