A day walking around Berwick-upon-Tweed; a figure-of eight as we went into the Deli twice: cakes and then crab sandwiches later.

Ambling around slowly and full of painkillers for the sciatica that had recently arrived uninvited, I just took the infra-red converted Nikon D5500. Not only did it suit the subject (IMO), but it’s as light as a feather.

I never intended to shoot so many photos, the process arrived quite organically as I saw so many things to point the camera at.

And brace yourself for:

…A lot of photos

…All monochrome (Infra-red 720nm; leaves come out almost white)

…Some ICM (intentional camera movement)

…Some UCM (unintentional camera movement) where the shutter speed was too slow

…Odd framing: some shot from the hip, just pointing the camera in the “general direction”

Some of these points might be flaws, but I’m determined to keep the integrity of the story. 

And I enjoyed it!

Berwick isn’t a huge place, so it’s ideal for a day’s exploration. I’ve tried to shoot it “honestly”, not deliberately setting out to make it look neglected or run-down. But the fact remains that, like a lot of small towns, it is a faded rose.

We visited a town on the coast in Angus last year, which would have seen similar glory-days; now it was just empty.

Berwick isn’t like that; it’s still alive, but how long these characterful features last before they turn into decay must be a moot point.

I’m often fairly useless in doing research before I go somewhere new, and this was no exception. Since getting home, about 300 miles away, I now discover how much I’ve missed too.

Definitely worthy of another visit. Maybe even shoot in colour next time!

Each photo opens larger if you click on it, and runs through if you click on the larger one:

A few weeks ago, I was told about a cave “underneath” one of the elm trees that I’ve been photographing in the current “Wych Elm in Assynt” project.

Talking to Richard (the caver), he suggested that we could go and have an adventure sometime. Too tempting!

Since my first information, I’ve been back again and discovered that I wasn’t quite concentrating (not like me?), and the cave isn’t actually underneath the elm tree, but very close by.

Still; not to worry or be too pedantic.

Saturday morning: tea and chocolate at the car park about a mile away, and off we go!

And I’m wearing the oddest array of old tatty clothes that I could find, knowing what’s about to happen.

Half way across the heather, a hail storm slams down: fortunately on our backs.

At the elm tree; base camp: Richard puts on his caving gear, and I just add yellow Marigold gloves to what I’ve already got on.

He says it’s a good idea; I think he just wants me to look a twit. Mission accomplished!

A panoramic photo sets the scene. It’s a bit distorted as a panorama, but you get the idea.

The red box was added later to show the entrance; it doesn’t exist really.

“So did you Photoshop it?”

Might have; can’t say.

I soon discover that I’m not as flexible as I was in 1978 when I went caving on an Outward Bound course.

Can’t imagine why.

Anyway, I’m soon sitting in cold water and my underpants are wet.

Some of the water coming down the waterfall on the outside is now flowing into the cave via the other “wet entrance”, and it’s direction of travel seems to be back into the hillside.

We follow this little stream on hands and knees until it disappears: it’s not very far really, but great fun none the less.

I took my proper camera with me, in a dry-bag, but with the low ceiling, don’t feel inspired to get it out.

Plus; today’s revelation of the photographic equipment: the iPhone 14 actually takes really good pictures down here.

I’m amazed.

Angular stones plus old knees, and low ceiling plus a back that’s complaining make me realise that I’ll be glad to stand up outside.

But, on the way, I want some photos of the water flowing into the “wet entrance”.

And then a bonus….. an elm leaf, brown and wrinkled on the floor.

My connection to the tree nearby is re-established!

No, I didn’t take it in with me!

Anyhow, it was easy to find, as it had a red ring around it!!!

By the time I hauled myself out of the hole, Richard was already changed into something more comfortable.

I had about half an hour’s walk into driving rain with wet pants.

At least I still had my Marigolds on.

The weatherman said that it’s spring a couple of weeks ago, although it is quite hard to tell some days.

But the snowdrops in the garden have now gone over and the daffodils are fully out.

Looking further, not much has changed?

Getting closer: it’s actually changing quite rapidly.

Primroses and celandines are out now too.

The little dark brown, almost black, buds on the wych elms have been transformed through dark red blobs to open flowers. In profusion on some trees.

Even from 100 yards away, the trees have changed, despite no leaves appearing yet.
So I’m trying to get some flower photos……Not that easy!

Currently, I’m refusing to pick a twig and take it home, so I’m battling with the breeze, a really low depth of field from using a telephoto lens, and access.

Access because the low branches have long gone, courtesy of browsing animals, AKA deer.
I got a couple of shots in Lochinver village a few days ago, followed by one in Clashnessie, but I really want one in a more natural environment, so I headed off to Inchnadamph.

The first hurdle is that it’s clearly a later season over there, and all but one tree are way behind those that I visited earlier, nearer the coast.

Hanging precariously over Loch Assynt, I added to my flower-foto tally.

But, whilst I’m here…..

I’ll check out a few previously visited trees, and look for another one: a grid reference that I’ve not been to yet.

On the way, there’s a grove of trees that might be worth a look; nothing previously recorded here, but promising, I think.

Loads of birch, and getting towards the far end, running out of trees, nearly giving up…..

There it is!

A pretty big one too.

So I get my camera out and make its acquaintance.

I also meet three ticks, my first this year.

I brush those off my trousers and hope that there’s no more lurking. Guess I’ll find out tomorrow.

New tree in the bag, I walk along the hillside to the target grid reference, and meet another one, in quite a challenging place on a limestone crag.

Either side of it there are two nice surprises: aspens with catkins about to break open.

Aspens don’t flower very often, so this is quite a good discovery in itself.

Finding a way to climb up the crag, I get to the top of the tree on another terrace, and further up, trees and ivy are all over the cliff; not a familiar sight at all.

At the end of the day, I did get another flower photo, albeit not enough to satisfy me, but the day scored really well with other features thrown in for good measure.