A moment of calm

During my busy working life there are times when I just need to slow down for a moment and pinhole photography is a great way to make that happen. Back in April I headed over to St John’s Church in Duxford and spent an hour or so chasing the light. I’ve photographed here many times before but the light is never the same as the seasons change. On this occasion I started in the churchyard where the cowslips were flowering. Of course my photo doesn’t capture their vivid yellow tones, but I decided to shoot from a low perspective to catch them in the foreground anyway.

Inside the church, the light was as glorious as ever, creating pools of illumination around the building.

This was one of my slower shots (an eight minute exposure) but I couldn’t resist the textural details of this door and its latch.

Two different perspectives of the nave…

More pools of light, this time from the west window.

The light in the porch was very contrasty, creating some very graphic lines.

My final photo of the afternoon, taken from a higher perspective beside the pulpit.

Photos taken 11 April 2025

West Dean Gardens at a leisurely speed

When I teach at West Dean College I have a couple of hours to myself on the Saturday and it’s always an opportunity for me to head out into the gardens, camera in hand. On this occasion I took my pinhole camera along, with no particular agenda and simply photographed what caught my eye.

An ancient sprawling tree, waiting for the warmer spring weather to arrive along with its leaves.

A perfectly espaliered fruit tree in the walled gardens.

It may have been early in the spring, but there was plenty of blossom to be seen in the glasshouses.

Magical light falling through the folly…

Photos taken 15 March 2025

The remains of a Liverpool landmark

One of the places which remained tantalisingly out of reach when I visited Liverpool in 2019 was St Luke’s - a church in the city centre which was no,bed during the Blitz. On my latest visit I was delighted to find the railings were unlocked and I could finally take a look inside. Of course, with pouring rain and no roof I got rather wet, but it was worth it!

Photos taken 16 April 2025

From the South Downs to Birling Gap

Way back in February we’d planned a short trip to Eastbourne to be part of a podcast recording, after which I was then heading west for work. I had a free day in between though, and there were two locations on my photographic agenda.

The first was the Church of the Good Shepherd in Sullington, up on the South Downs. I learnt about this tiny little church from the YouTube channel of a fellow pinhole photographer, Will Gudgeon, and it’s been on my list of places to visit ever since. Will was kind enough to give some tips on where to park and how to find the church was it stands in the middle of farm land, some distance from the nearest road.

The Church of the Good Shepherd is genuinely tiny, with perhaps room inside for a dozen people. It originally formed part of a larger church, but all that remains of this larger structure are a few fragments of wall.

You wouldn’t expect the weather to be wonderful in February, but with the church’s exposed location on the South Downs it felt even more blustery and cold. To top things off we then had a hailstorm, so I was very grateful the door was unlocked. While I waited for the stinging hailstones to peter out I made the most of the opportunity to take a slow photo inside!

A small slit window in the stub of one of the walls from the original church.

After I’d meandered back to the car I headed once again towards the coast and stopped of en-route at the church in Litlington to finish off my roll of film.

My second destination for the day was Birling Gap. After a warming lunch in the cafe I loaded up a fresh roll of film and braced myself for an hour on the beach below the chalk cliffs. By now it was blowing a hoolie and keeping my tripod stable was a bit of a challenge - sometimes I had to place my body strategically to create something of a windbreak!

The beach at Birling Gap is a mix of chalk and flint which made for some very striking patterns. I’d timed my visit for low tide, just as the sea was beginning to return so I kept my eyes peeled for places where the water was running back in between these stony ridges.

Capturing the ridges of chalk and flint as the waves came in took a good sense of balance and timing. As I stop atop the larger rocks I waited for the waves to come in and hoped I didn’t lose my footing or find the water had inundated my return path to dry land!

Photos taken 7 February 2025