Less nice park, nicer camera!

After the frustration last week of being stuck with just a phone in beautiful Dunorlan, this week I was in less nice Haysden with less nice light, but with a proper camera:







Phoned in from the park

InĀ  earlier posts I wrote about how you don’t necessarily need a good camera to take good photos, but rather hypocritically I have recently invested in my first proper camera (a Sony A7ii.) I don’t know how much difference it has made to my photography- those who are as nerdy as me might want to guess from my last posts when I started using it.

Unfortunately just having a good camera doesn’t mean I actually have it with me when I need it.


Yesterday evening I found myself driving past Dunorlan as the sun was going down with just my iphone to help me out with the beautiful light.


None of these pictures would print out big, but I have done what I could in photoshop to give a sense of how beautiful the conditions were. Actually the low quality of the original images creates a bit of a painterly look which I have enhanced a bit in the software:






Rusthall in Red

The real joy of being the colour blind photographer is those moments when I get the colours completely wrong, as here. So welcome to Rusthall in Red!


First it is worth me explaining why I wanted red- Rusthall has an interesting history in that its name comes from the Anglo Saxon Ruste uuelle which means Rusty Well.


I think we citizens of Tunbridge Wells have been ignoring the implications of that name for too long. We go on endlessly about the fame of our natural iron spring and even celebrate the anniversary of its “discovery” by Lord North in 1606, but we’re ignoring the fact that just down the road they’d known about these springs for about 800 years before.

It’s all a bit like how Europeans “discovered” America around the same time.


You can imagine the citizens of Rusthall getting increasingly peeved as their neighbours gained all the fashionable visitors and the fancy architecture while they were left as a bolt on where they might just about be able to get punters in if they promoted an amphibian shaped rock.

There is even a sad story about a time when it was decided to move some of the more fashionable buildings in Rusthall on sledges to Mount Sion in Tunbridge Wells.


So now, enough is enough- I decided with the help of photo shop to bring out the glorious rusty red history of the town with this set of pictures from yesterday morning around the Rusthall commons.

Only showing my wife the pictures, I gather I haven’t- maybe next time!