Just Horsing About

I doubt my English teacher would believe that I still remember the famous poem Horses of the Camargue; strangely, every autumn when the wind blows cold, I think of the poem, and in my mind’s eye I can see those white horses.  The early-morning pink clouds were the first sign of the weather turning. As I stood watching the beautiful sky, I could see the wind rolling in from behind.

The wind blows through my being and turns my inner peace topsy-turvy; my head becomes fuzzy, and I feel the grit between my teeth and in my eyes.  Without wind, we won’t have rain, which we desperately need now; this earth is parched.

So instead of photographing sunrises and pears, I looked for some horses.

(Extract from Horses of the Camargue, a poem by Roy Campbell)

Like the Mistral, that wind that owns Provence and turns people slightly mad, today’s wind does the same to me.  Choices I must: succumb to it and be paralysed, or go with the wind and let it take me along with it.  That’s what I chose and ended up with some white horses at the Worcester Riding Club.

My selection of photographs for the day: sunrise, the postal worker on his bicycle braving the dusty wind, and the horses who neighed to get into their stalls, nudging the gates in frustration, no knickers, just a whinny with their heads held high.

Thank you, Christel, the girl who loves horses more than anything else, who rides with passion.

“The essential joy of being with horses is that it brings us in contact with the rare elements of grace, beauty, spirit and freedom” -Sharon Ralls Lemon.

When using high ISOs, there is a risk of excessive "noise"; unfortunately, when shooting wildlife, a photographer needs the speed.  Using the widest aperture rarely suffices, and the ISO has to be turned to full throttle, adding grain.  One without the other is often impossible.

A last look and then it's back to the stable and home for me.  I really learned a lot again today; for one, turn your back on the wind, and it will pass.

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