Morning Dog-Walk Frosty ground, bare trees and a tender pink sky: it’s a winter morning in Burghill, Herefordshire. (23January2015, iPhone5)
Winter in Britain…
What a wet, bone-chilling prospect!
This winter (2015-16), the northern part of Great Britain was inundated by floods after the pre-Christmas storms Eva and Desmond, and then had to brace for record cold temperatures and snowfalls. Two years ago (2013-14), Britain experienced the wettest winter on record: the south was battered by winter storms that ripped away beaches and made world headlines.
I’m not used to winter anymore after years of living in the warm-temperate zones of Australia and the tropics of Thailand. How lucky for me, then, that I was in Hereford in the West Midlands this time last year, during a season that was described as “relatively benign and quiet”.
The sun rose late mid-mornings, and set early-evenings after angling low with a weak warmth in the afternoons – a pattern that rather suits my nocturnal rhythms. For the most part, mornings were cold, crisp, and frosty, and days – as short as they were – were dry and clear.
Just as well, as I did a lot of walking.
Grab your winter woolies and join me!
Landscapes – Passing Like a Dream… Trains are a wonderful way to get around: the cold, bare winter fields and trees flew past as I travelled north-west from London. (22January2015, iPhone5)
Morning Frost Jet-lag had me up early on my first morning in Burghill: the frost was thick on the grass … (23January2015, iPhone5)
Fence Post … and made lacy patterns on the fences. (23January2015, iPhone5)
Winter Trees The morning sun – once it made an appearance – cast a golden light on the winter trees. (31January2015, iPhone5)
Holly Berries Nothing says “English Winter” quite like the bright red berries on the holly bushes along the roadway. (24January2015, iPhone5)
Over the River Wye Most days, my walks took me over the River Wye: always beautiful and ever-changing in the soft winter light; … (23January2015, iPhone5)
West over The Hills … on other days, I donned gumboots and ventured into the hills and countryside (see: Credenhill Wood). (08February2015, Canon EOS 5D MarkII)
Park-View Sunrise Another morning: another magnificent winter sunrise over the old St. Mary’s Hospital parklands. (02Feb2015, Canon EOS 5D MarkII)
Deer Park Founded in 1868, St. Mary’s Hospital at Burghill – or the Hereford County and City Lunatic Asylum, as it was originally known – was a psychiatric facility. It was later expanded to include patients with tuberculosis, before being closed in 1994. Today the grounds, which include parklands, a large duck pond, and a deer park, are home to a modern housing estate which incorporates some of the historical buildings. (03Feb2015, Canon EOS 5D MarkII)
West over Brecon Beacons The walk from Burghill down into Hereford gives views over the fields to the snow-topped Brecon Beacons, the popular mountain range in South Wales. (02Feb2015, Canon EOS 5D Mark II)
Hospital Farm Down hill from the site of the old St Mary’s Hospital is the wonderfully textured and rusty “Hospital Farm”. I can only surmise it once supplied the hospital kitchens. (04Feb2015, Canon EOS 6D)
Dead Leaves Last season’s dried out oak leaves cling to the trees. (04Feb2015, Canon EOS 6D)
Snowdrops In the leaf litter at the base of the trees, the snowdrops are already blooming. (06Ferbruary2015, iPhone5)
The Oxford Arms The Midlands is “Black and White” country (see: Medieval Ludlow), and a few of these distinctive half-timber buildings survive in Hereford itself. (04Feb2015, Canon EOS 5D Mark II)
Hereford Rooftops (04Feb2015, Canon EOS 5D Mark II)
Victoria Footbridge Built in 1898 to commemorate the Diamond Jubilee of Queen Victoria the previous year, the Victoria Footbridge is a three-span suspension bridge over the River Wye. (04Feb2015, Canon EOS 6D)
River Wye, Hereford The bell tower of Hereford Cathedral is an integral part of the city view from the footbridge. (04Feb2015, Canon EOS 5D Mark II)
Pigeon Pigeons rest on the footbridge stays. (04Feb2015, Canon EOS 5D Mark II)
Victoria Footbridge On the south side of the footbridge, Bishop’s Meadow and the King George V Playing Fields attract walkers and cyclists … (26February2015, iPhone5)
King George V Playing Fields … who make use of the pathways through the wet fields and leafless trees. (26February2015, iPhone5)
Pampas Grass Even at midday, the winter light angles steeply. (04Feb2015, Canon EOS 5D Mark II)
Afternoon on the River Wye (04Feb2015, Canon EOS 5D Mark II)
Under the Umbrella Of course, some rains did fall … (13February2015, iPhone5)
Fish and Chips … but a local pub with some typical British comfort food was never far away. (28January2015, iPhone5)
I hope the weather is treating you well – whatever season you are in.
Men’s Morning Circle It’s early morning. Bishnoi men, wrapped up against the cold, prepare their ritual opium tea.
There are countless deities in the Indian pantheon.
Sometimes it seems that the number of religions and cults is almost as high.
Scattered around the Western Thar Desert of India and Pakistan are villages of people calling themselves Bishnois. Followers of “Jambhaji”, as Guru Jambheshwar of Bikaner (b.1451) became known, these people are predominantly descended from Jat peasants and Rajput warriors from the north: Haryana, Punjab and Rajasthan.
The Bishnoi are known for their staunch environmentalism, and commemorate the martyrdom of the more than 360 people who died in 1730 trying to save the trees of Khejarli. Today, they mount strong protests against the killing of wild animals. They are strict vegetarians, and filter their water before boiling it to prevent any bugs being killed. They even bang their firewood before burning it to make sure any insects can escape.
The name “Bishnoi” comes from bis (twenty) and nai (nine), representing the 29 rules for living handed down from Guru Jambheshwar. It is ironic that rule 24 is to not use opium; on the tourist circuit, the Bishnoi are perhaps best known for their morning opium ceremony. For while opium is officially banned in India, it is not only used in Bishnoi villages, a drink made from it is freely offered to visitors.
I was travelling with a small group of photography enthusiasts, under the guidance of photographer Karl Grobl and local expert DV Singh. For the record, none of us tried the opium drink – though from what I have read, it is neither tasty, nor particularly potent.
Motorcycle Sunrise We started out early: the sun was low on the autumn horizon as we made our way to a Bishnoi village near Khejarla, Rajasthan.
Blackbuck – Antilope Cervicapra This is a dry region with sparse grazing; some people believe that the Bishnoi protection of all animals helps account for the larger numbers of deer and antelope in these Bishnoi-dominated areas.
Preparing Opium A ball of dried opium (or a quantity of seeds) is pounded in a vessel and small amounts of water are added.
Pouring the Juice The mixture, called amal, is then poured into a filter.
Drinking Opium … and the thin liquid is drunk from cupped hands. The process was repeated a number of times, until each man had had his share.
Filtering Opium The amal is filtered three times, prayers are said, …
Washing Dishes I wandered off to see what the other villagers were doing. In the semi-open courtyard of one of the homes, a woman was washing cups.
Tending the Hearth She tended the fire…
Pouring Chai … and made chai …
Pouring Chai … for the men to collect.
Bishnoi Woman
A Man and his Children
Bishnoi Man
Bishnoi Man … and their chai. (Rule 25 is against tobacco.)
Pouring the Amal The men continue to enjoy their opium and cigarettes, …
Old Bishnoi Woman Away from where the men gather around their opium and chat, the early-morning activities continue.
School Children Children in uniforms head to school…
Woman in Pink … and a young woman heads inside after sweeping her porch.
The Wood Pile Rule 10 requires that water, milk and firewood be filtered, so as to prevent damaging any living creatures when it is boiled or burned. Dried wood is collected for cooking fires: Bishnoi are not allowed to cut green trees.
Rolling out Chapati In another house, a woman is making capātī – from the Hindicapānā, meaning ‘flatten, roll out’.
Patting Capātī The unleavened bread is patted into an iron pan.
Sprinkling the Ghee Ghī, clarified butter, gives the chapatis their flavour and keeps them from sticking to the pan.
Off to School A young lad tucks his chapati – rolled in newspaper – into his school bag, and heads off.
Bishnoi Woman
A Place for Everything … Possessions are few, but everything is clean and tidy – especially by comparison with much of India!
Young Mother and Village Well The cows in the background are for milk; the Bishnoi eat no meat.
I was pleased to share the villagers’ morning – if not their opium! It was certainly an unusual experience.
Novice in the Shrine A young Burmese novice in the shrine-room at Shwe Yan Pyay Monastery, Nyaung Shwe.
David DuChemin, a man whose words are as richly textured as his magnificent photographs, recently wrote a blog post on the difference between an “Iconic Photograph [and] a Photographed Icon”.
“If I can find something that resonates more strongly with the human heart or imagination, I have a shot at the kind of connection in a photograph that one day others might call iconic. It’s the connection that matters. It’s the meaning.” (DuChemin)
I can’t help but agree with him. He goes on to say that one’s best work often comes from being somewhere often enough or long enough to see something different – something that tells a story or makes that connection.
Of course, we don’t all have the skills, imagination, time, or talent that DuChemin brings to his craft. Taking our own “copy” of an iconic image can be a big part of the travel experience. If we can also bring something of ourselves to the image, it might be original, and if we have some talent and skill, it might even be art. But, too often when travelling – especially with a group – our experiences are constrained or dictated by others, and there is little time to experiment.
Travelling with a photo group, as I was when I visited the Shwe Yan Pyay Monastery, just outside Nyaung Shwe in Myanmar, brings a special set of opportunities and challenges. On this occasion, I was travelling with photographer Karl Grobl, who is good at coming up with photo-concepts, and local guide Mr MM, who makes those ideas come to life. A photo group can help you take short-cuts: you can share models and ideas, and you should be in the right locations at the best light.
But, you are not the only person trying to get that iconic shot – and when your turn comes up, the moment might have passed. I had done my homework before arriving at Shwe Yan Pyay Monastery and I knew I wanted some novices in those iconic oval windows.
For a number of reasons, it didn’t work out that way.
Entrance to the Monastery A gilded entry arch leads into the red-painted teak Shwe Yan Pyay Monastery.
Old Burmese Teak Built in the early 19th century, the monastery is focussed on providing a home – with religious and secular education – for boys from poor families in the region.
Novices at Study
Novice at Study It must be difficult for the young boys to live in the dormitory without their families.
Novice With Kitten Many of them have kittens to keep them company.
Monastery Windows It’s the iconic scene: the windows, where tourists wait and hope…
Novice in a Window … that a monk or two will look out and be framed by the ancient teak.
Novice with a Book Novices are scattered around the monastery rooms, …
Novice with a Book … trying to find patches of light in which to study.
Novice in a Window
Light and Dark
Novice in a Hallway
Monk at Study
Novice in the Light
Carved Wall Textures are everywhere.
Novices Washing Back outside, it is bright and sunny. Novices cool down at the wash basins.
The Walkway The central sanctuary has an arched walkway all around. Light angles sharply into the dark corridor.
Remembrance Buddha Each Buddha is dressed in robes and its niche is inscribed.
Remembrance Buddhas The walkway is dotted with niches – each one with its own Buddha image.
Sweeping Rice In the central courtyard, women look after the drying rice.
Old Abbot At the door to the kitchen-dining building, the abbot watches over proceedings.
Abbot’s Hands Traditional protective tattoos are visible on his hands and other exposed parts of his body.
Novices at the Windows Finally! Some novices smile out of some windows; but, it’s the plain windows of their dormitory – not the oval windows I was hoping for.
The Chef Like the abbot, the chef has protective Sak Yant tattoos.
The Dinner Gong The chef uses a brake drum as a very effective dinner gong to call the novices to lunch. Theravada monks and novices don’t eat in the afternoons, so this will be their last meal of the day.
Lining up for Lunch The novices line up with their bowls as the abbot and the chef dish up food.
Monks at Lunch All the monastery residents sit at low tables to eat their mid-day meal.
It is a balancing act: knowing which photos you want to take, so you don’t miss them, against being open and ready to participate in what is there.
I’m still working on it: I was upset with myself for not getting the “iconic” shots of monks in teak-framed windows that I had wanted – but I still left the monastery with a rich experience I hadn’t been expecting.
Billy Buttons on the Horizon Mount Kosciuszko is home to some unique flora – cheerful yellow Billy Buttons (Craspedia Canens) are just one of many species.
Another year draws to a close…
I find that the period of “limbo” between Christmas and New Year is a good time to reflect on the past: on the trials and accomplishments of the year that is finishing.
I, personally, have been incredibly lucky this past year – with new babies and new adventures – but the events of the world around me have had an impact. I often feel weighted down by the disasters and acts of insanity that I see in the nightly news and feel the need to withdraw: to wrap myself in healing nature and refresh my spirit. There can be no better place to recharge one’s batteries and to make plans for the future, than the mountains.
They do say you should start as you mean to go on, and go on as you began, so, we spent the first days of this year in the Snowy Mountains, walking and cycling some of the trails in Australia’s Kosciuszko National Park.
Join me for some blue skies and fresh air.
Guthega Dam Guthega Dam is a concrete gravity dam – one of the sixteen major dams that make up the Snowy Mountains Hydroelectricity Scheme. We were attempting – not for the first time – to find the track to Mount Tate.
Trees on Guthega Trig Bush fires from years past have decimated the gum trees: in places, only their silver skeletons remain.
Red and Green Red patches of Sheep Sorrel (Acetosella vulgarise) growing amongst the blocks of granite contrast with the fresh green grass on the hillside.
Falls Creek Waterfall We missed the turn that would have taken us off the management track and up to Guthega Trig; instead we ended up blocked by the metal decking at Falls Creek. After a picnic lunch, we returned the way we had come.
Blueberry Flax-Lilies – (Dianella Revoluta) Wildflowers line the overgrown pathway above the Snowy River between Falls Creek and Guthega Dam.
Blueberry Flax-Lilies – (Dianella Revoluta) The Flax-Lilies flower from spring through summer. The fruit, which contains 3-4 seeds, turns blue to purple and lasts for many months.
The Pathway Back The track follows the hip of the hill – high over the Snowy River below.
Viper’s Bugloss (Echium vulgar) Not all the flora is indigenous. Like the related Paterson’s Curse, Viper’s Bugloss is an invasive weed, with control orders in place.
Daisies
Seaman’s Hut Another day, we cycled the six kilometres up from Charlotte Pass to Seaman’s Hut, …
Silver Snow Daisies (Celmisia Tomentella) … parked our bicycles in the lee of the hill and ate our lunch under a blue sky, …
Granite and Alpine Everlasting (Leucochrysum Albicans) … before continuing up hill on foot, …
Path to the Top …and ascending to the top of Mount Kosciuszko – Australia’s highest “peak” (2228m).
Candle Heath (Richea Continentis) Endemic to the Australian alpine country, the spiky leaves of the Candle Heath make tracts of mountainside un-passable.
Billy Buttons (Craspedia) At lower altitudes – but still above tree-line – the Billy Buttons add a splash of yellow to the mountainsides.
Billy Buttons (Craspedia) Also known as Woolyheads, Billy Buttons are members of the daisy family, and native to Australia and New Zealand.
Mountain Celery (Aciphylla Glacialis)
Purple Eyebright (Euphrasia Collina) on the Mountainside
Overlooking Rawson Pass The nine kilometres back down the Old Summit Road is SO much easier than the ride and walk up!
Silver Snow Daisies (Celmisia Tomentella)
Chamomile Sunrays (Rhodanthe Anthemoides) beside the Roadway
Rocks and Alpine Flowers
As an introduction to The New York Times Year in Pictures 2015, Steven J. Erlanger writes:
There were some good news stories as well – and it is, of course, up to each of us to contribute to a better world in some small way. But, sometimes, to maintain our spirits – and sanity – we just need time out.
Here is hoping the new year brings us all better things.
Seaman’s Hut, Old Summit Road, Koscuiszko National Park, Australia
Hello Ursula.
Your photo,s of alpine plants are good. And I can see you have gone to a lot of trouble to get the correct botanical names. Daisy plants are hard to get the correct botanical names . You have photo,s marked as Rhodanthe anthemoides.
These are incorrect . They are Leucochrysum albicans ssp. alpina.
The photo of the Native celery Aciphylla glacialis is the Male form of this plant.
Hoping this is some help to you. JoeReplyCancel
Mother and Nursing Child Winter mornings are cold and dark in the huts of Otjomazeva, a kraal village in the Kunene Region of Namibia, but the people are warm and welcoming.
The Solstice (Yule or Litha – depending which hemisphere you are in) has just passed. Today is Christmas Eve here in Australia.
It makes me think of my family – scattered as they are – and of the families I have met in my travels. These families can take very different forms from the “norm” I grew up with (more on that some other day), but the core human bonds are recognisable wherever you go.
Earlier this year, I had the great privilege – thanks to photographer Ben McRae, Pedro Ferrão Patrício from Photoburst, and Namibian guide Morne Griffiths – of spending some time with traditional tribal Himba people. We were welcomed into Otjomazeva, a tiny kraal village near Epupain Namibia.
There are about 50,000 indigenous Himba(singular: OmuHimba, plural: OvaHimba) people living on both sides of the Kunene River: in the Kunene region (formerly Kaokoland) of northern Namibia and in Angola. Semi-nomadic pastoralists, the Himba quite consciously maintain their cultural traditions and subsistence lifestyle.
I took hundreds of photos during my visits to the village, some of which I’ll post at another time. Right now, I’d like to just share just a few pictures of the simple village itself, and some portraits of a Himba woman and her child.
Otjomazeva Morning Sleep – as they say – is over-rated. It was very early – quiet, cold, and dark – when we left our campsite. The pre-dawn light was pale and pink as we approached the Otjomazeva kraal.
Morning Rolls It was still dark when we entered the kraal (with prior permission, of course) and I thought the “logs” in front of the huts were piles of donated blankets we had dropped off in the village the day before …
First Stirrings … until one of them moved! There is not enough room in the huts for everyone, and many of the community slept outside, rolled in their blankets against the winter cold.
Morning Huddle Noiselessly the day slowly comes to life. People gather around meagre fires waiting for the porridge to boil.
Tall and Beautiful This young woman’s regal bearing captured my attention, as she stood, wrapped in her soft cow hide.
Mother and Child She, her wrap, and her baby girl are coloured with the ochre paste (Otjize) that Himba women wear all over their skin and hair.
Himba Mother The unique Himba hairstyle worn by married women is created by weaving long hair extensions – from goat or cow hair, and often including some of their husband’s hair – around the head, and coating these plaits with the ochre paste. Babies generally have their heads shaved, sometimes with a little tuft left on the top.
Applying Ochre Paste The women are surprisingly happy to have myself and one of my companions inside their hut as they go through their daily ritual of re-applying the otjize. It is pitch black in the huts – the only light is from the low open doorway and the odd holes in the wattle and daub walls. Even so, you can just see the sculptured sheepskin Erembe headpiece that our Angolan visitor has put back on after she re-pasted her hair.
Mixing Otjize The paste of liquified butterfat and ochre has a wonderful perfume, thanks to the resin of the omuzumba shrub. It’s baby’s turn to be rubbed with the paste, and she sits watching me while her mum prepares it.
Chatter This woman is an extended family member who is visiting from neighbouring Angola. Her time in the village is spent catching up on local gossip. When she smiles, you can see the gap in her front teeth: traditionally, both boys and girls around age twelve have the front bottom teeth (incisors) knocked out and the two top front teeth filed into an upside “V” . …
Smiling Profile … This seems tragic to me, especially considering how beautifully white their teeth are!
Mother and Child
Mother and Child
“It Takes a Village” Children in the Himba village are never far from an arm or a lap – or a comforting breast.
All around the world, families and friends gather to celebrate. Where I grew up, the celebrations this time of year were either for Christmas or Hanukkah. But, if there is one thing travel teaches you, it is that “family” and “celebration” take very different forms the world over.
So, whether you are celebrating Christmas or Hanukkah; Rohatsu or Mawlid an Nabi or Zarathosht Diso; Solstice – or nothing at all; I hope you can take the time to appreciate your family, and to make peace within your community. In the words of Charles Dickens:
[…] I had the wonderful privilege of spending time with some Himba people in Northern Namibia (see: Mother and Child; Model Shoot). The Himba are a beautiful, proud tribe who have deliberately resisted integration […]ReplyCancel
[…] are immediately recognisable by their distinctive hairstyles (see: Mother and Child; Women of the Himba; Himba Model Shoot), which are determined by their age, gender and […]ReplyCancel
[…] I had the wonderful privilege of spending time with some Himba people in Northern Namibia (see: Mother and Child; Model Shoot). The Himba are a beautiful, proud tribe who have deliberately resisted integration […]ReplyCancel
- Performing the Ganga Aarti from Dasaswamedh Ghat, Varanasi
- Buddha Head from Shwedagon Pagoda, Myanmar
- Harry Clarke Window from Dingle, Ireland
- Novice Monk Shwe Yan Pyay Monastery, Myanmar
Packets of 10 for $AU50.
Or - pick any photo from my Flickr or Wanders blog photos.
‘Till next time –
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Until next time,
