Portraits of Time
I cannot imagine a better way to celebrate the lives of trees, some ancient and others that help make up the rich tapestry of British woodlands. They often grow in anonymous locations, seemingly unaware of their surroundings. I quite often pause during my woodland walks and reflect on the passage of time and events since they began life as small saplings. In these cathartic moments I begin to develop a deeper relationship and understanding of the natural world.
It will probably come as no surprise that some of my influences hark back to some of the traditional English landscape painters such as J W M Turner and John Constable. It was their absolute mastery and depiction of light that I admire so much. A contemporary of Turner and Constable, and less well known, is Paul Sandby. His woodland scenes were not as well manicured and would often include fallen branches and other bits of woodland detritus, everything that one generally encounters amongst trees. I too am very much against re-arranging scenes in front of me just for the sake of aesthetics. Of the more recent photographers that have inspired me include; Peter Dombrovskis, Shinzo Maeda and Christopher Burkett.
Woodland itself can be a notoriously difficult location in which to compose meaningful images. This is hardly surprising when you realise how complicated groups of trees can become in densely wooded areas. The phrase ‘can’t see the wood for the trees’ often comes to mind. Having photographed woodland for many years, together with my background in graphic design, has certainly aided me in making order out of chaos. A good analogy is that whenever I start a design project I always begin by sketching out ideas with pen and paper. In photography my camera viewfinder becomes my blank sheet of paper, ready to be populated with ideas.
I’ve often observed people walking straight into wooded areas expecting compositions to come to them. Unfortunately, trees cannot just uproot themselves and gather into aesthetically pleasing groups. Sometimes even I find it very difficult to see compositions. I very often look for a small clearing where I can detach myself from my bag and tripod. For five to ten minutes I just stand in complete silence. Slowly you begin to notice; small movements in the undergrowth, a bird flitting from branch to branch or identify the sound of a particular songbird. Gradually I begin to attune myself to my surroundings. It may sound clichéd but I do try and adopt a state of mindfulness, more importantly though, you are relaxed. It is then that I begin to see and understand what it is I am looking at and identify compositions which I would otherwise have walked past or disregarded as being too busy. Peripheral vision can play an important part too, just by being observant your eye can be guided towards shapes or light falling on a particular area or object.
Again, most people’s response to woodland photography is to use a wide angle lens. You will certainly include trees, but invariably, excessive amounts of sky and foreground. Looking back through my Lightroom catalogue I can filter by focal length used, surprisingly this reveals my most used focal length is approximately 135mm. It will probably come as no surprise that my 70-200mm lens is attached to my camera a good 90% of the time. I often describe this technique as ‘reaching into the woodland’. I am also an advocate of using wider apertures in my woodland photography. Focussing on an area I feel is quite important and letting the background, or foreground, to soften and become subdued. I find this often adds a pleasant feeling of perceived depth to an image.
It is certainly true that woodlands have the most visual impact during the autumn months, however I prefer to visit woodlands throughout the whole year as each season has its very own characteristics. Springtime see’s the woodland awakening from winter slumber, patches of fresh green begin to permeate woodlands, slowly banishing the cold grey and muted mauves, the typical colour palette of winter. The daylight hours are still relatively short with the sun at a low angle; this bathes the woodland in a warm raking light, reminiscent of late autumn. It is also a very tactile time of the year and I often encourage people to stop and feel the newly emerging leaves which are soft and supple to the touch, unlike in the autumn where they become leathery and brittle.
As spring progresses into April and May, we are greeted with a crescendo of lime green and blossom. Woodland paths become avenues of newly emerging foliage creating feathery boughs, whilst the woodland floor becomes full of unfurling bracken and ferns. Here in the UK our ancient woodlands are also awash with the much-loved, nodding heads of the bluebell. Millions of bulbs can exist in just one wood, giving rise to the ‘blue carpets’ that are a springtime joy. It also heralds the onset of longer and warmer days.
Woodland photography during the summer months is definitely a challenge. The dawn chorus is a joy to behold, as is cool, fresh air and dew bejewelled foliage. Warm days and cool evenings can also be a good recipe for atmospheric, low lying mist and fog. Unfortunately, it all means that alarm clocks have to be set earlier and earlier to appreciate the dawn. Trees, once stark and bare, are now fully clothed in swathes of green, so much so that the woodland colour palette can become very limited, one then has to rely on bright, overcast days for subtle variations of light and varying shades of green.
Towards the end of September we are still subject to warm days but cool evenings giving rise to misty or even foggy conditions. This invariably coincides with bracken turning a beautiful yellow gold hue and means only one thing… autumn is just around the corner.
Autumn is all part of nature’s ‘body clock’, time to re-absorb and store energy, time to shed foliage in preparation for the colder months. During late October there begins a subtle transition within the woodland canopy.
Trees such as beech, oak and birch are still in full leaf but, gradually, a few begin to turn yellow; this mixture of colour I often refer to as ‘lemon-and-lime’ time. I tend to visit on dull, ‘quiet light’ days and look for dense areas of trees or on a slope where one can exclude any bright areas of sky.
One can certainly expect frosts in early November, which accelerate the colour change. It will certainly differ depending on which part of the country you are in. In southern areas of the UK it is usually the second or third week in November that is the best time for the honey-dripped glory that most people think of as autumn. I much prefer overcast days, avoiding any harsh contrast. If we are fortunate enough, it is fog and mist that certainly produce the most atmospheric images.
By the beginning of December the firework display of autumn colour is nearly over but opportunities to make images are still plentiful as one can often be rewarded with one final tableau of rich colour. Autumn may now be over for another year but woodlands always have something more to offer… even when it’s deep and crisp and even!
Winter in southern UK can often be a dull, dreary affair which can prove problematic in a wider landscape. Woodland, however, can be surprisingly colourful with hues of blue and purple with perhaps a smattering of autumnal colour hanging on by its fingernails.
It is quite noticeable during the wintertime that some young deciduous trees, beech especially, often retain brown leaves throughout the season; this happens through a process called ‘marcescence’. The evolutionary reasons for marcescence are not quite clear. Theories include protection of leaf buds from winter desiccation, and as a delayed source of nutrients or moisture-conserving mulch when the leaves finally fall and decompose in spring. Whatever the reason, these pockets of colour certainly add an extra touch of colour during the cold winter months, especially when set against frost and snow.
One of the big advantages of winter time photography is that dawn occurs at a much more civilised time, negating the need to set the alarm for silly o’clock! The low angle of the sun also means you can retain that warm, raking light throughout the day. As with all the other seasons though, we are at the beck and call of the weather gods, so predicting when snow may fall or when hoar frosts occur is a matter of keeping a close eye on the weather forecast and keeping one’s fingers crossed.
Finally, it doesn’t matter how much experience you have making images in woodlands - just enjoy exploring, the fresh air, the exercise and above all, retain a childlike wonderment at our natural world.
