It was a dull day with a light drizzle in Honiton, Devon, but it didn't totally dampen the autumn colours in front of the Evangelical Congregational Church.

October 22nd

Autumn and mushrooms go together. I don't know if these are edible and I'm not going to try - I rely on the stalls in Pershore Market to decide that for me. This is one of several autumnal scenes I photographed one morning in the grounds of the Tudor Park Hotel in Bearsted, Kent

October 16th

We wandered back from Rye via a few Sussex seaside resorts, stopping for coffee in Eastbourne. A bright, breezy day.

September 25th

I had to attend a planning meeting for a programme I'm lighting in Maidstone so as recompense for suffering the unpleasantness of the M25, Monica and I decided to make a weekend of it. We chose to visit Rye, a place I have only had a casual acquaintance with in the past. Apparently it is the tenth best place to live in Britain, however that is judged. It offers many delights for the photographer (I apologise for the flowery discourse but I've been listening to Dickens all evening)

September 24th

Early autumn is the time of year that I seem to do most of my cycling. Perhaps it is some sort of squirreling instinct, building up reserves of fitness before the sloth of winter. Today the weather was stunning and I cycled out around some of the parts of Warwickshire that I visit less frequently. I photographed the shadow of this gate at Clifford Chambers Parish Church. The scattering of brown, shrivelled leaves hints at the downturn in temperature that is just around the corner and with it, the donning of sweaters, coats and gloves - once more Michelin Man on a bike.

September 22nd

We dropped in on Paris on the way home (it was expecting us). The one place Monica and I wanted to visit was shut which is so very French. Late in the day we gave the precincts of the Louvre the benefit of our company. This view of the infamous glass pyramid is probably where most people would like to see it - behind bars. There again, I liked it.

August 29th

All week Peter and I had been eyeing up avenues, a strange past-time but someone has to do it. Either the sun was in the wrong place or the traffic suicidal. On our last night in the south, we drove into Uzes and, lo, the light was almost right (a touch too late, to be honest). Watching each others backs, we pranced around in the road trying to capture the definitive French image. The above are my best efforts - we must return.

August 27th

The Mediterranean was a reasonable distance from our digs and, with the benefits of the more relaxed and sensible attitude to diesel fuel taxation in France, we were happy to venture forth. The harbour at Le Grau du Roi is full of colour.

August 24th

A summer's excursion took us to the south of France, to the department of Gard. Monica and I had visited this area before and been taken with its less touristy feel so we were pleased when our friends Peter and Jane also fell in love with it. However Gard is rising in the estimation of we Brits (it's a bit cheaper to buy in) so visit now before it becomes like the Luberon or the Dordogne. Our nearest town was Uzes where I discovered this peaceful courtyard.

Towards the end of a week of poor, uninspiring weather, my mate Peter and I ventured into the church at Ashleworth in Gloucestershire, a little gem of a building in an ageless setting. Almost as soon as we entered the sun started to break through the clouds outside with enough power to bathe the interior with a light of remarkable quality and show us a little glimpse of photographer's heaven.

July 29th

My brothers, Bob and Peter, are keen bird-watchers so we decided to pay a visit to the Red Kite feeding station at Gigrin Farm near Rhayader in Mid-Wales today. What a spectacle it turned out to be - upwards of sixty red kites, a bird near extinction in Britain thirty years ago, wheeling and swooping over the gobbets of beef thrown onto the ground in front of the hides. Apparently it is quite possible for nearly three hundred to appear. A triumph of conservation and dedication over avarice and apathy.

July 18th

It occurs to me, but probably to no-one else, that there are not enough photographs of steam engines in this Journal. This has been partially rectified with this shot of GWR 0-6-0 pannier tank, number 7714, emerging from under the bridge at Arley Station on the Severn Valley Railway.

May 21st

My eldest daughter, Catherine, acquired dual nationality this month. This photograph might just give a hint as to where she lives!

March 29th

My job often involves visiting locations around the country on recces, a TV buzzword for surveys. Today I had to look at a couple of buildings that are to be used for a series I am providing lighting design for over the next few months. In a hotel just outside Darwen in Lancashire I came across this beautiful stained glass window. Just the stimulation you need after the trials and tribulations of a trip up the M5/M6 (and the coffee was welcome, as well!).

March 22nd

Today was the first real spring day in Worcestershire - warm and sunny but with a bit too much wind for enjoyable cycling. Nevertheless I made my way over to Elmley Castle. It was great be able to get out without having to wear a jacket, scarf and thermal gloves. I'd like to be able to say that the air was full of the sounds of songbirds calling for a mate but, if they were, they were overwhelmed by the buzz of helicopters ferrying rich punters from local hotels to Cheltenham Races. I wonder what it's like to have more money than sense. Anyway, by way of compensation, the church yard at Elmley was full of crocuses and miniature daffodils. Roll on the summer!

March 18th

The light held out for our last day when, determined to leave no tourist-trap unvisited, we went to San Gimignano. Out of season it is delightful. I hate to think what it will be like come the summer.

February 14th

Later, in our bid to see Italy in a weekend, we arrived at Sienna. By now the light was superb, fresh and awe inspiring.

On the way out of Florence, we managed to fulfill another tourist ambition with the obligatory photographs of the Duomo and the Ponte Vecchio. The light was playing cat-and-mouse, swept along by a stiff breeze coming down from the Appennines.

February 13th

Florence, a dull day with a damp chill in the air. It was interesting to see, at last, many of the places that I studied on my degree course - quite a difference between the grainy monochrome images of the text books and the real thing.

February 12th

Bike in a window with partially hidden photographer, February 11th, 2005

Pisa did not hold us long and by lunchtime we were in Lucca, an attractive and considerably quieter walled town. Here I attempted, unsuccessfully, to hide my considerable girth behind a door jamb.

The Leaning Tower of Pisa, February 11th, 2005

Tourists attempt the unoriginal, February 11th, 2005

A winter's excursion took us to Northern Italy, flying from Coventry to Pisa. Although I have driven round Pisa in the past, this was my first opportunity to penetrate one of the northern hemisphere's primary tourist traps. Even at this time of year there were plenty of them about. You have to wonder what inspires hundreds of them a day to avail themselves of the 'stopping the Tower falling' photographic opportunity. In the days when film was king I imagine that Kodak and friends made a pretty penny from these antics. The graffiti picture probably alludes to a cyclist's nightmare.

February 11th

Today was one of those rare winter days when the air was like crystal. Looking across the Vale we could see that the Malvern Hills were snow-covered - an excuse for a walk. When we got there it was like Piccadilly Circus in the rush hour but without the statue of Eros and the red buses - and also without the ticket touts, pickpockets and litter.

January 23rd

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A Simple Shell

Born in a crucible, liquid fire Rolled, shaped, corrugated, To man's desire. For what? Tin shed, shanty, Bothy, byre Or mission chapel, Unfettered from the local squire. Enticing labourers back to the fold. No high church incense, no chants of old, But an honest service, a tale to tell, Within a simple iron shell.

I first came across this little corrugated church at Coombe Green, Birtsmorton, Worcestershire, while out cycling last summer. The photographs I took then were not successful so, while on a photographic boys day out with my friend Peter, I had another try. I'm still not entirely happy, mainly with the direction and quality of the light. We will return.

January 22nd

War Memorial, Pershore Abbey, Worcestershire, January 18th, 2005

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The War Memorial in Pershore Abbey, Worcestershire. It was sculpted by Alfred Drury R.A., and erected in 1921. The figure represents Immortality.

I look forward to the day when I pay a visit to the Abbey to find the figure bathed in sunlight from one of the windows. Today wasn't that occasion and I have had to be content with a silhouette.

January 18th

It's not often that I get driven about so when it happens it is a chance to play. This is one of several time-lapse images that I made as I was being chauffeured through Cheltenham.

January 15th

Gas lamp. Great Malvern, Worcestershire, January 9th, 2005

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Malvern is a place that I spend more time in than would seem reasonable, given that it is about twenty five miles from where I live. However it has a number of things going for it. There is a branch of Waitrose, a supermarket chain that I have embraced with a near religious fervour; at Pepper & Oz, there is possibly the best value latte in Worcestershire (Pershore excepted!). Up the hill at St Anne's Well Cafe is an apple cake which exceeds all superlatives and back in town, the Bran Tub supplies all my whole food needs. The inner man is well satisfied

To shake off this excess, I have two strategies. One involves taking myself and my morning paper up one of the many tracks that lead up onto the hills - during the week it is possible to find something close to isolation there but don't expect it at the weekend. The other approach is to cycle. Admittedly I cheat by cycling from home to Pershore and taking the train to Malvern Link. It's mostly down hill on the way back but still a good run

Time on the hills can do wonders for the poetic or literary muse. The town can satisfy the photographic muse if such exists. The many gas lamps fascinate me and the one over the western entrance to the Priory churchyard supplies my first Journal photograph of the year

January 9th

A Sort of Journal

2005

(This page is best read from the bottom upwards - it's good to be different!)

Past Journals - 2004

Haikus