Colourful World

In the few gaps between rain, clouds and a cold east wind, I've been out taking pictures. I'm doing a Digital Photography course with the Open University at the moment which has resulted in many of my photographs taking a turn for the worse as I try to work out the best exposure, shutter speed, ISO, focal length, depth of field etc, all by myself. This seemed like a good idea at the time but as, humiliatingly, the camera takes better pictures without the benefit of my interference, it may yet prove to a brief experiment before I slink back to auto mode, tripod between my legs.                                                    

The latest section of the course is all about colour: contrast, hue, saturation, variation.  The spring rains and a few rare sunny summer days have brought out the wild flowers around the village in magnificent abundance.  I've heard people raving about flowers in France and done a bit of raving myself but I've never seen such richness as in the fields and roadsides around Brassington and the Derbyshire Dales. 

 Sheep and cattle browse and doze amongst swathes of celandine, buttercup, speedwell, even orchids. Which brings me to another aspect of colour that only began to dawn on me as I wandered about the place looking for examples of the above-mentioned contrast, variation etc. The animals are all different colours! I may be wrong about this, city bumpkin that I am, but many of them seem to be bred, mixed and mingled for variation. White sheep have black lambs and vice versa. Brown cows have black calves, and this well-tackled bull is the only white beast in a field of black, brown and patch-coloured cows and calves.

In case you're wondering, this photograph of the bull was taken from a safe distance with the zoom lens, although he can barely rouse enough energy to turn his head when anybody passes so he's possibly had some of his masculinity docked or clipped or gelded or something. Possibly he's been displaced by artificial insemination and put out to grass - a future once promised to human males by a particularly militant feminist tendency - watch out chaps.  Whatever, I'll continue to give him a respectfully wide berth.

This variation in animal colouring may be obvious to people who know about farming but as living in a city doesn't throw up many opportunities for hob-knobbing with stock-breeding experts my ignorance is profound about the whys and wherefores although I can probably have a good stab at the hows. I wonder if the cattle and sheep notice skin colour, foreignness, difference?


The sun also brought out multi-coloured peletons of cyclists. It's the men who really go for it, I've noticed. No inhibitions among these chaps about colour co-ordination or the revealing qualities of Lycra.

Cycling gear seems to bring out their inner exhibitionist. Here's one who couldn't quite make it up the hill to Longcliffe but who's flashing a nice pair of calves.  

 

I was away in London over the Jubilee weekend and so missed the Brassington village celebrations but went to a wet and cheerful street event in Walthamstow. Lots of lovely colours there too.  I didn't see the Queen or the Thames but I did see a Jubilee tug of war and ate falafels, kebabs and gingerbread men. It felt like a very British day out which wouldn't have been the same without the rain. 

 

Coming back to the garden, the grass is a foot high and in our new raised beds, beans and courgettes and lettuces are growing fast.  Beautiful green!