Tag Archives: photography

Hochspannungsmasten

(Ach, wie gerne würde ich zu diesem Titel was über die Berliner Salonswing-Band Herr Nillsson* und ihren Titel ‘Hochspannungsmasten’ schreiben, aber den gibt’s leider nicht auf Youtube…)

Nein, eigentlich ging’s auch um was ganz anderes: Ich habe nämlich gerade festgestellt, dass ich mittlerweile doch schon einige Fotos von und mit Hochspannungsmasten in meiner Sammlung habe. Ja, manchmal kann ich sie halt nicht ausblenden, ohne dass ich auf ganz besonderes Licht oder eine einzigartige Stimmung verzichten müsste, und so habe ich sie dann eben ‘mitfotografiert’. Nur haben es Hochspannungsmasten so an sich, dass sie unmittelbar zum Hauptbildgegenstand werden, von daher habe ich dann entschieden, ihnen eben gleich die Bühne im (hoffentlich) stimmungsvollen Bild zu überlassen.So kam das alles.

Das sind ja auch wirklich ganz besondere Ungetüme, diese Hochspannungsmasten! Alle ganz verschieden, manche anmutig sich nach oben verjüngend, andere klobig mit fetten Querstreben, manche im Weg, andere sich irgendwie in die Landschaft einfügend auf so eine Berlin trash-Art. Ich freue mich, dass ich schon einige von ihnen digital gebannt habe. Heute abend haben sie mich wieder fasziniert, wie sie da so stumm dastanden und mit mir zusammen dem Sonnenuntergang beiwohnten. Tolle Kerle!

Was man auch nicht so oft sieht: Ein Hochspannungsmast, zu dem Leitungen hinführen, von dem aber keine weggehen. Manche würden es wohl eine Stromsackgasse nennen…für andere wieder stellt dieser losgelöste Mast zweifellos ein ontologisches Mysterium dar…

Wo ich gerade dabei bin, hier noch mal wie zur beiläufigen Erklärung der bildhafte Grund dafür, warum Bilder wie die obenstehenden in den USA seltener zu finden sind:

Stümper.

_______

* Dafür aber den wunderbaren Titel ‘Deutscher Film’, der uns nicht nur denselben näher bringt, sondern auch einen klasse Einblick in das Leben deutscher Künstler gibt:

Beauty is where you are…

Be where you are, search within yourself, love what you see and appreciate what it gives you. It’s all already here. Love, beauty, success, all already here, all inside you and around you. One can hardly get this across better than Dan Jurak has done in this recent blog post.

Beauty is where you are... After a few days in Banff and Jasper you might think that I'd be posting more photos from the trip. Instead, I am posting a landscape that was taken minutes away from where I live, in a city on the prairies, population close to one million. The sights and sounds of construction are all around me. New houses are being built to camera left. In fact, I had to point the camera more north than I wanted to or I would be photographing the new constructi … Read More

via Dan Jurak's Alberta Landscape Photo Blog

Summer is Over

This week, I helped my friend who really needed a break and said that I would look after her dog while she was cycling in the hillier regions of Saxony and Thuringia. After many walks with the dog through the forest and around the lake I can tell you: summer is definitely coming to an end. The leaves are starting to turn, not only on the trees but also on the water lilies. The big plate-like leaves that swam so green and happily on the lake are now wilting and showing that sickly yellow colour (which will be perceived as golden and beautiful if it shows up at the right time, i.e. weeks later) and they are preparing to sink to the bottom of the lake just as they always do when autumn comes. And it is here already, in August, yes. Autumn has sneaked in stealthily. Unbelievable but true, and many people around here know it.

I normally welcome the change of the seasons but mid-August and the leaves are turning…that’s just way too early! I hope all you guys had a much better summer or are actually still in the midst of it as it should be. I know parts of Canada are in the same dismal situation we in the Northern party of Germany are in; as I heard autumn was approaching fast in Alberta at the beginning of August already.

All this is very sad. I’m not going to stick my head in the sand now; it’s still warm, even if the amounts of rain pouring down on us are of biblical proportions. All the same, here are my best summer pics. It was pretty and maybe we’ll have a few more nice days. But summer proper is over and a very short one it was, too.

This last one is a favourite. The area is a nature reserve near my house. It’s been raining so much this summer that the entire area is now impassable as you can see here:

And last but not least, below is the kind of view that I love most about summer in the Northern Plains and that I will miss very much. See the fat clouds and the equally round and fat trees? Mirror images of one another, great friends and embittered foes, lovers and partners in crime, companions of especially Flemish landscape painters throughout the centuries and signature lanscape items where I am from:

Counter the incredible boredom of private lives

Blogging can be hard if you only have personal things to talk about, I think, things that are interesting to yourself but only because you are who you are. It is much easier writing about something that you know a lot about and that is interesting to a range of people regardless of whether they know you or not. Funnily enough, if you are some kind of health care guru or spiritual person the realm of the interesting can include personal matters as well, but for normal folk it usually doesn’t. (I think this is the first time in years I have used ‘normal’ without scare quotes.)

There is one blogger whom I greatly admire for his distanced and yet personable voice and the quality of his posts. Dan Jurak, who is a Canadian photographer, posts reguarly, which I appreciate, and he is very consistent in the kinds of things he writes. There is usually a problem of sorts, e.g. ‘how to take a good picture when the light is bad’, and Dan gives expert advice interwoven with anecdotal evidence. Very nice. Here’s an example:

The sun was ten minutes from setting when I came upon a field flush with foxtails. Foxtails for those that don’t know are a weed on the prairie. There was some kind of construction going on in what last year was a field of canola. No crop this year and the weeds had taken it over. I don’t often see fields without crops around here. It makes no sense for the land owner to lose income for the year.

So I hopped out once again into the wind and the mosquitoes. As I write this, I am still coughing up one of the unfortunate guys that I inhaled. I shot til a few minutes after the sun set, not confident that I had anything. My intended cloud was becoming darker and further away by the moment. There would be other days chasing clouds.

I processed a few images and chose this one to post. Not what I intended. Nothing at all for what I had hoped. That’s how it usually goes.

Photography is an easy subject to comingle the personal with the impersonal. I try doing that with sociology because that’s my field of expertise but have so far found that to be much, much harder. I don’t think it needs to be, to be honest, and maybe all it takes is a bit of practice to make sociological analysis come easy. Here’s the first reason why I think I should try it anyway:

Sociology is a purely academic discipline; you cannot be an independent sociological consultant, for instance, great though that would be. No, when you’re a sociologist you’re working in an institution or on a project, and when you’re an independent sociologist, well, then you’re saying in a euphemistic way that you’re unemployed. So sociologists are tucked away in universities and worry their little heads about very serious problems, no doubt, but probably the kind of problems that requires a PhD to even identify. Meanwhile, Joe Bloggs walks along, identifies some sort of problem and instantly attribute cause and blame to persons rather than structures because he has never learned that there are such things as social structures. (Politicians don’t seem to have heard that one either, or would like to forget it I guess. It’s them that need the biggest dose of sociological insight, I tells ya.) Structures are constraining or enabling, as the case may be. They are the strings that hold back single mums from, generally speaking, having a great career or that cause poor kids not to waste too much thought on getting a university education because they know that they will have to start earning money early on to support their parents.

How does this connect with photography? Look at the two photos below. They aren’t particularly great shots but they may serve to make a point. The first one zooms into a segment of the view, the full extent of which you can see in the second photo.

From an aesthetic point of view I personally prefer the first photo. It focuses on a few nice gables, then there’s the spire – kinda neat. But what’s the problem with it? It has no good base line – the viewer doesn’t know where the photographer is situated – and it is therefore unclear what the photo relates to. Ultimately, the shot therefore remains meaningless. For it to be meaningful the gables would have to be a lot more special or the tower of a rare style, so as it is, the photo is lacking something.

It is different with the second shot. This one tells you straight away how the view relates to the photographer in terms of space; her position is slightly elevated (1st floor in fact) and she probably took this photo from within a building. There is a foreground, a yard that mostly belongs to next door while the green wall forms a sort of boundary for the area in which the photographer is located. And then there are the gables in the distance. This photo gives you a lot more information, both about the photographer as well as about the subjective meaning of the gables: they may well be the pretty orientation points in the distance that detract the viewers focus from the mundane in the foreground. Still not a great shot but one that tells you more and that invites you to wonder if this is maybe a view out of a window in someone’s apartment (it is) and could you imagine living with that view, what kind of view would you like if you could choose…

One photo is abstract and harder to relate to, the other one isn’t, and I think it is like this with social life too if we consider the enabling and constraining structures that affect people’s thoughts and actions. These structures are social but they are as real as the window from in the second picture: if you want to represent the view then it’s got to be there and then this is what it looks like. It’s not an ideal view but such is life. Likewise, if you want to represent the complexitiy of social life so that others can understand it, then you also have to give it full attention, and that means including social facts such as family background, education, income, gender, race etc. and cultural factors such as values and norms in the analysis. And in order to do that so that other people understand it too, you have to come out of that little ivory tower and walk the walk, too. People have to be able to relate, as it is when they realise how that abstract stuff affects themselves too that they begin to take an interest.

So, this is a long-winded way of saying that blogging can be a fantastic way of intermingling personal anecdotal evidence with expert insight. I hope that Bookling’s World can be testimony to this in future much more so than it has been in the past.

Changing colours II

I had meant to write a bit about the beautiful month of May which, according to this wonderful magazine, is the month of bliss and joy for garden lovers. It’s a bit late now, May has come and gone, but not without leaving behind a few precious impressions which I want to share with you.

In late April, the fields were full of rapeseed and wonderfully lemon yellow and the trees were tender spring green; at the end of May and in early June there are all sorts of colours. I love the white of the common yarrow and its many siblings, and of assorted chamomiles. And the red poppies and blue cornflower…I simply love to see how the seasons change from spring to summer!

And now my absolute favourites:

Life is beautiful!

In between

(One can’t be upset about the ways of academia all the time. I love working in academia, I love the freedom and the flexibility it gives you. Working at home, you can pretty much up and go whenever you please, and I like that. This post is about the products of those up-and-go moments.)

‘It’s running season’, I said to myself a couple of weeks back, checked my running gear, put on my heart rate monitor and those shoes and off I went. Every other day in between or after working in the home office, sometimes even two or three days in a row. Running is simply the bestest and those were really great times! I really enjoyed it. One drawback to running though was that I couldn’t take pictures any more the way I used to. It had been a habit of mine for many years to always carry a camera with me and it was strange at first to be running, let’s say, through gorgeous sunsets and not be able to capture the gorgeousness.

Now that I did my hip in and can’t run any more (very sad that but I am trying to see the silver lining in this cloud) I can do landscape photography again, yay! Here are my favourite recent pics, starting from when the fresh green leaves weren’t quite out yet to right now.

Sunset Bohnenländer See

Havel River in Briest. I went there with my granny and we had drank coffee in the sunshine.

These little houseboats, here going upstream towards their home harbour in Plaue/Brandenburg, are for rent! I want one!

A small pond in a boggy landscape on the outskirts of town. I discovered it by taking a path that I have never gone before - and that I would have never been able to run on (it was more of a deer track really).

Alder leaves. Pretty little things.

Blue hour

There is such depth to the blue hour…it beckons one to reflect on the deeper meaning of life and the minute role of self in it. Despair is never far off in this twilight hour, I feel; you never know if good things will come off it, whether the bright day will tip into an evil night or a velvet-embracing wonderful night. Anything can happen.

I’ve long been wanting to reflect on one of the most precious hours of the day, the blue hour, the time after sunset and just before it gets dark. Alas, today, after the quake in Japan, thinking of the blue hour foregrounds that other meaning of blue, i.e. sad. Why don’t we all of us take a few minutes tonight, during the blue hour, to send positive energy, hope and prayers, whichever rocks your boat, down the road to our brothers and sisters in Japan?

This is what the blue hour looks like, just so that we’re all on the same page:

No TGIF today.

Home again: Reflections on the Winter School

The afternoon before I set out for Heidelberg I finished the penultimate thesis chapter, so coming back I should be poised to quickly write the last chapter so that I at least have a full draft of my thesis done. I had the last chapter planned out carefully before I left, and seeing as it is really just pulling together the most relevant bits from the other 8 chapters it shouldn’t be a problem to write it.

Alas, so enchanted by some of the ideas that I learned about in Heidelberg am I that I am now trying to come up with a cunning plan for writing these ideas into my thesis. Phenomenology in particular is what I want to bring in a bit more, or would like to bring in. The point is that I can’t restructure my entire thesis now. It would take ages and be too much work. It’s also totally unnecessary. I have no justification for doing that other than that I want to play around with certain theories a bit more. Plus, when I pushed in that direction a bit before my supervisors reined me in. Perhaps Phenomenological Sociology is not a good field to associate oneself with. (But I don’t believe that!)

I always knew that attending a winter school in between the penultimate and the last chapter of my thesis had the potential of confusing me a lot. It did, in the best way possible. But now I have to stick to my guns and simply plough on precisely the way it was planned. ‘Don’t linger, Miss Bookling,’ I must be saying to myself. ‘Just finish it.’

I have lots and lots of wonderful memories of people and places in Heidelberg. I guess it’s safer to cherish them in the form of photos than by writing them into my work. So here they are, photos of Heidelberg.

Underneath the Old Bridge, Heidelberg

Neckar River at the Old Bridge and Heiliggeistkirche, Heidelberg

Wind and sun were playing with these delicate plates of glass

Neckar River early in the morning

Looking up the Neckar River early in the morning

Snowdrops, the river and the castle: Old Heidelberg from the Philosopher's Path (Philosophenweg)

Rambles through the Mark Brandenburg

‘What was good enough for Fontane shan’t be bad for me’, I say to myself about twice a week or so, and usually follow these words with gearing up for a longish walk in mid-afternoon. Boots, beanie, scarf, gloves and camera and off I go.

Where I live is flat and pretty uneventful. The fields are vast, sometimes even rolling a bit, which usually entices me to take lots of photos. Alas, most of them are ruined by the seemingly omnipresent power lines who traverse fields and even forests.

‘Events’ in this very man-made landscape consist of deer hopping about, birds of prey circling high above and the occasional rabbit scurriyng away between bushels of grass. I am mostly alone which gives me time to contemplate what I see or to formulate ideas that I can later hammer into my laptop.

For these two, contemplation and development of ideas, this landscape is simply brilliant. You don’t get blown away by amazing vistas unless you’re really looking very hard for them. – Which is a nice thing to do with one’s brain in between all the academic stuff, I must say.

It’s also great for feeling at home, for me anyway. Maybe the pictures can render that feeling a little bit. They say a picture can say more than a thousand words but I tend to think that if this is true it’s probably only because at least 500 words were given explaining the context of the picture. I have given way less than that so for so maybe the pictures in this case say less than 1.000 words. But I ramble…
I know walking isn’t for everyone; a few days ago I didn’t even make it as far as this into a small narrative about what I like about walking through the Mark Brandenburg because my friend (whom I was trying to recruit for a weekend tour – I think she saw it coming) put a stop to my emissions of praise by insisting that surely walking is the most boring thing ever. Hm, maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. It’s soothing for the soul and it strengthens the body if you walk at a brisk pace, but of course I would say that. What I like about walking at a brisk pace especially is that you get to see so many things in a comparatively short period of time. In the winter time, for instance, you can set out at 2pm and walk right into a beautiful sunset two hours later if you’re lucky. I was lucky today, set out at 2.30pm, dawdled a bit in the forest and whenever I was something of interest and made it back by nightfall.

Setting out at 2.30 pm

In the forest

Tree-stand in the middle of the field

Grass

And then, just as I was approaching the car again at 4.30pm, a glorious sunset:

February sunset in the Mark Brandenburg

Night drowns the sun

I am back at my desk now but already can’t wait to get out again!

Visiting beaver land

The habitat of the beaver is the riparian zone, inclusive of stream bed. The actions of beavers for hundreds of thousands of years in the Northern Hemisphere have kept these watery systems healthy and in good repair, although a human observing all the downed trees might think that the beavers were doing just the opposite.

In the beaver habitat at Bays Mountain, Kingsport, Tennessee: dead trees to the left

The beaver works as a keystone species in an ecosystem by creating wetlands that are used by many other species. Next to humans, no other extant animal appears to do more to shape its landscape.

Beaver dams are created as a protection against predators, such as coyotes, wolves and bears, and to provide easy access to food during winter. Beavers always work at night and are prolific builders, carrying mud and stones with their fore-paws and timber between their teeth. Because of this, destroying a beaver dam without removing the beavers is difficult, especially if the dam is downstream of an active lodge. Beavers can rebuild such primary dams overnight, though they may not defend secondary dams as vigorously. (Beavers may create a series of dams along a river.)

The lowest dam in a series of beaver dams

 

Next dam up.

 

Wetland created by beavers

 

Beavers fell trees for several reasons. They fell large mature trees, usually in strategic locations, to form the basis of a dam, but European beavers tend to use small diameter (<10 cm) trees for this purpose. Beavers fell small trees, especially young second-growth trees, for food. Broadleaved trees re-grow as a coppice, providing easy-to-reach stems and leaves for food in subsequent years. Ponds created by beavers can also kill some tree species by drowning but this creates standing dead wood, which is very important for a wide range of animals and plants.

This is how the beaver bites

Source: Wikipedia