I returned from a successful photo trip to Mt Arapiles and the Wimmera Mallee to spring on the southern Fleurieu Peninsula, and to allergic reactions (allergic rhinitis) to the airborne allergenic grass pollens. This hay fever is especially intense ( itchy eyes and throat, sneezing and runny nose) when the north wind carries the pollen from the northerly grasslands across the landscape.
My response is to avoid walking along the back country roads within the agricultural landscapes because the grass pollens are currently hurting my eyes. I try to ensure that the poodlewalks are now along the beach and I walk as close to the sea whilst hoping for a southerly wind coming off the sea.
Kent Reserve or Petrel Cove are good starting points because I can quickly get to the beach from the car without walking through a lot of grasses, whilst wearing sunglasses and having previously taken preventative eye drops to help ease the irritation.
During the autumn of 2018 I made a number of afternoon poodlewalks with Maleko and Kayla along a couple of the walking trails by the Inman River. One of these trails was a walk around the small redgum loop trail by the river near Armstrong ( Ring Route ) Rd. I did this several times, including a few in the morning, before the trail became flooded. On the odd occasion on the redgum woodland loop walk I photographed with a film camera.
Another walk we sometimes did was the linear one along the floodplain on the eastern side of the river amongst that is populated by kangaroos. We would start from the old SA Water waste treatment plant on Canton Place and then make our way along the redgums on the floodplain to where the river passed the Victor Harbor cemetery. We would then slowly make our way back to the Forester in Canton Place as dusk started to fall:
I meant to return to the floodplain area during the winter of 2018 when the river was flowing with a film camera and tripod, but I never did. I only ever scoped the floodplain as I found the floodplain difficult to photograph: just trees, a dry river bed, and leaves on the ground.
The Xmas break is over for this summer-time. The holiday crowds have left vacationing along the coast of the southern Fleurieu Peninsula during the extended school holidays, and returned to work in Adelaide. The schools are back and the photographers have gone.
Over the Xmas break I continued to photograph in the early morning whilst walking with Kayla. I focused on low key macro photography before the light became too bright and contrasty. The photography is hand held and quick. The conditions are not suitable for slow large format photography.
Currently, the mornings start cool, the days heat up and reach their zenith around 5 pm but, unlike drought damaged inland regions, the temperature usually drops at night. With the crowds gone, the beaches along the coast are quiet during the week, and we often have them to ourselves in the early morning around dawn and sunrise. We now have the space to be in the moment and see the transient and ephemeral nature of life on the coast. Continue reading “summer-time + impermanence”
The weather along the coast of the southern Fleurieu Peninsula over the Xmas break was surprisingly cool; surprisingly so, given the record breaking heatwave across central and south-eastern Australia.
Despite having several friends stay with us in and around the Xmas break, it was a quiet holiday for me. I’d sprained my right shoulder one morning just before Xmas day whilst helping Suzanne to make the bed.
The shoulder became inflamed and, as it involved shoulder bursitis pain, I was obliged to rest the right arm in a sling for a couple of days over Xmas before seeing a physiotherapist late in the Xmas/New Year Day week. I was given a set of exercises to do for a week to strengthen the strained shoulder muscle.
Then the injury would be reassessed. The prognosis was that it could take 2-8 weeks to heal, depending on how I responded to the various exercises. I’ve had good days and bad days so far. Continue reading “the Xmas break 2018”
South Australia was been battered by a violent storm from the south west during the last three days– from Thursday to Saturday. We experienced gale force winds, solid rain, high tides and surging seas along the coast of the southern Fleurieu Peninsula.
Our usual morning and evening poodlewalks were curtailed due to the water cutting off access to parts of the littoral zone. So I could not photograph the water flows. It was also too dangerous to venture around the rocks to Petrel Cove to do some macro due to the huge waves. Continue reading “stormy days”
As mentioned on the Encounter Studio blog when I am on the recent morning or afternoon poodlewalks I have started looking for suitable subjects that would work as an image when the colour file made with a digital camera is then converted to black and white.
The subjects have usually been granite rocks but of late, I am turning to sand patterns. This is a recent example:
The above image looked very ordinary in colour when I viewed it on the computer screen, in the sense that it was not deserving of a second more considered look. It look more interesting when I converted it to black and white as an experiment. Continue reading “sand patterns”
Occasionally, I try and make a still photograph of a particular moment of the rapid movement of the waves surging amongst the rocks:
The reason that I don’t bother to photograph the water, is that it is usually difficult to make the composition, and to get the lighting right. The sea water moves so very quickly through and over the granite rocks–too quickly for me to compose the picture whilst ensuring that my feet don’t become wet from a rogue wave. Continue reading “water flows”
Many of the coastal morning poodlewalks with Kayla incorporate the return walk along the coastal rocks to the car park via Petrel-Cove. Incorporating Petrel Cove is more frequent in the early spring, due to my allergy to the rye grass growing along the side of the coastal path. It irritates my eyes and causes sneezing fits.
Occasionally there is a photographer on the beach or a surfer but more often than not, the only other person in Petrel Cove at that time of the morning is the odd fishing man:
Often it seem as if the fishing men standing on the edge of the sea with their lines are meditating in nature, and are not overly concerned if they don’t catch any fish. I can understand that as I often just sit on the rocks and watch the action of the waves. Continue reading “at Petrel-Cove”