After the talk with Sally and Glenys the other week, it’s been wonderful to see so many images that have been created by the people who came to the talk (and some from people who didn’t get there live, but have watched the recording.)
I’m now inordinately glad that I said yes to having my bit recorded. No-one pushed me to say yes, but I’m so pleased that I did.
The shots taken ‘in the round’ give of course, anything from a 180 degree to 360 degree of combined images which takes pictures to a whole new level.
These are things that have been photographed a million times before, but sometimes not in the way you expected. Multi shot images create a whole new way of ‘seeing’ things, and the results are usually completely unexpected.
The thing is, that by changing the ‘where’ and the ‘how’, a whole new look and meaning can make themselves visible to you – it can be a revelation.
Dave Balcombe sent me the image below of the Market Cross in Wymondham, he said that he only used 13 individual shots, and didn’t follow any strict rules. The only critique that I offered (at his request) was to reduce the number of text references to a ‘certain’ bank, that repeated throughout the final picture. Other than that, the image was lovely.
He tells me that this is his first attempt at this style of photography and was inspired by my talk though he has seen this style before and admired my RPS A panel, he tells me he will try again, now he has the idea.
With his kind permission – I show it here:- he says that this is not too far from where he lives and so will be able to return easily and shoot it again.
What do we see? Windows that have their own worlds inside, the patterns of the stonework in the foreground, the balance of the trees either side of the cross. The whole image is transformed into almost a kaleidoscope of shapes, rather than a single cohesive one – and yet it works. You can see exactly what the image is about – it’s a totally different take on a subject that I would think has been taken a million times before.
Dave was open to seeing this, he didn’t look past it, he stayed sensitive to what was literally right in front of him.
Thing is, he tried something different – and it worked……. remember that as you go about your daily photo life……
So next time you go out and shoot something that everyone else has photographed, make it your own. Find a new point of view, or choose a different time of day, or combine images, or all three. The more you look, the more shots you take, the luckier you will get – but whatever else you do…….
Following on from my last post – I’m a bit excited.
Regular readers will remember that at the start of 2019 I started a journey down the Meridian Line from Yorkshire (Sand Le Mere) to the bottom of the county of Lincolnshire.
I ended with a trip to Greenwich, with some good friends.
The photographs themselves took 12 months to take and edit; and then another 7 months to organise them and write the text.
I self published using Blurb books, and have made both a hardback, and a soft-back.
I am really pleased with the end result – and in fact the statue on the front cover of the book (John Harrison of Longitude fame) was only installed at Barrow On Humber in March of this year. It was one of the images I had to wait to get before I could finish the book.
So, it’s done – and what next?
Well, Covid has put a stop to a lot of travel, but I am starting to get out and about a bit more – with other photographers too – though we go out in separate cars.
I’ve got a couple of ideas for projects going forward – which I’ll talk about when it’s more formalised in my head.
I’ve also got lots of people to thank who helped me get this book done – the naggers, the drivers, the pushers. The folk who have stood behind me when I got despondent and said “It’ll be OK”.
So – thank you to my other half for letting me travel at all hours, leaving him to dog-sit. Thank you to all the members of Lincolnshire Image Makers who encouraged me to keep going.
And to Mike Bennett, Keith Balcombe and George Lill for coming out with me – keeping me on the straight and narrow, and generally shoving me in the right direction.
A few weeks ago, a friend told me that another friend was selling his drone, did I fancy getting one? I wasn’t sure……….
We decided in the end that we would buy it between us and give it a go.
What did we know about drones? – absolutely nothing…….
However, once it arrived, we found it easy to set up, and get running. The cables were a bit fiddly till you could sort out where they went, but once the batteries were charged, it can be put it into ‘idot’ mode, which makes for an easier start.
The basics are easy – left control, up and down and rotate, and the right for forwards, backwards, sideways – but getting the knack of using both levers at the same time was a bit more complex. You also have to take into account that the camera lens can be moved up and down through 90 degrees. Lots of permutations here.
The first lot of video was shaky to say the least. Stop start, and too quick rotation meant viewing made your head spin, and getting up the nerve to go to the maximum legal height of 400ft was a bit hairy.
The Boring Bit
To legally use a drone in the UK, over the weight of 250g, it must be registered. It can all be done online and there are two parts to this.
Anyone responsible for a drone needs to register as an operator. This is currently £9 annually.
Anyone flying a drone must take, and pass an online education package. This is free, and renewable every three years.
If you want to fly commercially, a whole raft of other requirements are in place.
So, registration complete, test passed (first time – though in fairness it’s not difficult) – and away we go.
Thinking in three dimensions is not easy for me – yet …. For a start, the thing is moving, and it’s far away from you usually. Taking stills is not too bad as it will hover and the gimbal helps keeps the image steady, plus you can see what the camera sees on your mobile phone app. Video though, for me, is a whole new skill.
So, I’ve got the footage (bad though it may be) and I’ve got some photographs. Processing them is easy – the drone shoots its own version of RAW – in this case DNG files, which I can deal with in Photoshop and Lightroom. The video footage though – well Lightroom can’t handle it – Photoshop is limited, so what else have I got?
I use a MAC, and the free software that comes with that is iMovie – and it actually works pretty well. I’ve got a fairly powerful computer that can handle video, but bear in mind that the files can be huge. I shot in 4K (which is the best quality this drone can handle), and after 40 minutes flying the other day, I came back with 30Gb of footage, which when downloaded and edited made for a bit of a wait whilst the files were exported afterwards.
I’ve also been learning a bit more about how YouTube works. The finished files are a bit too big for me to keep locally, and there’s free space so far on the web, which I can link to. Something else for me to learn….
The other interesting thing I found is that you can take a still image from the video footage, and the quality isn’t bad. (See Below)
So how am I doing? Well, it’s been an experience for sure – and some of the images I can already see potential for.
I was initially a bit disappointed with the quality of the stills. The camera is 12Mp but really does need good light to get the best from it. The sensor of course is tiny – but you can work the files to what I consider an acceptable standard – they can be noisy but software can sort most of that. It’s a bit like flying a medium quality mobile phone. (Though I know that some of the newer drones have much better cameras).
I’m always talking about taking a risk, and experimenting with photography, and this is a whole new way of seeing the world. It’s going to take practice, and although I’m thinking of buying another one (that’s all mine)….. I’m going to wait till I really get to grips with my half of a drone……..
For those of you who know all this already, I’m sorry to ramble on, but it’s an exciting time.
Fingers crossed I can keep up with this, and hopefully get to make some video that is actually worth watching….. till then… fingers crossed.
Sometime during March, my camera club closed down because of Covid19 – there was no big announcement, just a quiet closure, and a sudden end to the programme of events that were scheduled.
One member acquired a Zoom account for the benefit of maybe half a dozen people, so we could keep in touch. It soon expanded though to include the whole of the club, and since then has gone from strength to strength.
What this blog post is about, is the results of that closure, and what happened afterwards.
We had a couple of meetings to see how it would go, and, when it became apparent that most of the membership were keen, it fell to a group of three to work out the programme that would ensue. All the competitions had stopped, and there had been no club committee meetings, so we plodded on.
What happened was one of the best programmes of speakers I have ever had the privilege to watch – ranging from people with little experience, to solid professionals with years of speaking experience, based around the world.
The common denominator was the software called Zoom, which seemed to float to the top at the start of the Covid lockdown.
I certainly had never heard of it before, and I gather a lot more people were in exactly the same situation. At the start, there seemed to be glitches, and some security issues, but the company seemed to get on top of that pretty quickly, and ironed out the problems. Pretty soon I saw that many businesses were using it as a conferencing tool, including our own government.
There is always (for some) a fear of new technology, but under these trying circumstances, I have been pleased to see people I would have considered to be wary of this sort of meeting – happily joining in after a training session. Even some who said they were sure they wouldn’t like it, have been converted.
Of course – it’s not for everyone, and if it’s not a place you would feel comfortable, then that is fine. (But you’re missing such a lot!)
However – the results of the talks, coming as quickly as they have (and still do) has been inspirational.
Not just the club, but the Royal Photographic Society too, has put on a series of events and talks that simply could not be missed…. So what is the result so far….
Well, a cornucopia of ideas from an eclectic mix of photographers and artists.
We started with Art Nude, and nudes in the landscape, reflecting professionalism, and images you would be happy to show your aged mother. Not a genre I was planning on trying any time soon, but the photographs and the expertise was unmistakable.
From here we moved to stories, told by different images, and a whole talk and photographs based entirely on a work of fiction. Some stunning work by a master of wildlife photography, who showed us how he was able to attract birds into his garden, and gave us a tour round with excellent photography.
Based on this talk, the club ran a competition based on ‘birds’ – a fun competition with a very loose theme – images ranged from model kingfishers, to easter chicks in a nest of creme eggs.
So what have I learned?
Well, images can be produced that are interpretations, and not records of events, the subject comes first, and the images second. Planning is key, and if you are creating your own photographs from a work of fiction, then the image must be moved by the story itself.
The differences in attitude and experience of the speakers shows me that creativity is not necessarily something we can just learn. It can require a complete change of mindset, and is something that needs constant practice.
There will be many failures, but these are essential, as are the risks.
For example – Edward Weston produced a startling black and white image of a green pepper – called ‘Pepper Number 30’. What I hadn’t really thought about, was that there must have been at least 29 earlier versions, and who knows how many afterwards. The point is that Weston thought that number 30 was THE image, and the one he was probably most satisfied with.
Photographers must learn (I feel it should be compulsory) to cultivate a willingness to experiment, and think about the question ‘what if I did this?’..
I also learned that watching these excellent people present their work – that what we saw was a carefully cultivated, curated collection of images – and not just a thrown together selection of work. They all saw that there was no ‘one way’ of doing things – there was no wrong way, there was just a multitude of different ways. Some would just work better than others.
The images were not ‘scripted’ – they were born out of imagination, inspiration, and creativity. Even the loveliest landscapes that I saw of Mongolia, were thought through pieces, with the photographer even showing us one or two of his rejects, and explaining the thought process.
Each specialist image maker held true to their passions and convictions, and to a large extent didn’t worry too much about how others reacted to them. There is therefore a true correlation between creation and passion.
The other thing they do is make time for their art. It’s not created in between sandwiches on a Wednesday afternoon. They have spent time and effort looking at other people’s work, and at art. They have attended exhibitions, judged competitions, made work for sale, and importantly, made work for themselves.
So looking back at what I have seen so far – travel, people, factual, experimental, wildlife, landscape, nudes and totally different uses of camera and drones – my mind is racing with ideas.
I look at the programme to come, and see more projects, the Vikings, more wildlife, sports, astrophotography, underwater, street, work with textures, and composite photography.
Lots of things I’ve never tried, not thought about particularly either, but we all need to open our eyes and minds to different mindsets.
Lockdown has been an absolute pain in a lot of ways – there’s been a lot of agony and grief, but there has also been an abundance of creative imagery – some fantastically beautiful and poignant work, reflecting how photographers have responded to being left to their own devices.
Is there still going to be a place for the ‘traditional’ camera club after this? I’d say yes, because you can’t beat the personal interactions that you get when you meet up. Will they be different? I hope so – I hope that more photographers will be willing to experiment, and break the rules.
Is there going to be a place for Zoom, or equivalent? – again, I think yes. How else can you have a presenter from the other side of the world, or even Europe? Speakers from the deep south of the UK, or the north of Scotland.
One thing I do hope, is that clubs continue to have these brilliant speakers – so that we can see the amazing work that might be totally different to our own……
I look forward to hearing your comments, and seeing you let yourselves go….
I’ve not done a blog post this month since March 1st – and this is mostly due to the fact that the pandemic that started in China in December and which has overtaken most of the world sent me into a state of panic, that is only now starting to abate – as I realise that there is absolutely nothing I can do about it, only weather the storm as best I can.
The media hasn’t helped – with a constant bombardment of bad news, and 24 hour coverage.
So, what to do ? Restrict the amount of news coverage, release myself from the bombardment of social media, and listen to a lot more music – classical piano, is what’s playing in the background even as I type.I’m also trying to hone my photoshop skills some more.I’ve books, and magazines that I bought ages ago with the intention of working through some things, but never got around to.Well, now I have no excuse…..
Back to the music, and I’ve just listened to a piece that has been beautifully played.I’ve rewound it, and sat with my eyes shut, and just absorbed the flow – this has put me in mind of how we can relearn to look at photographs.
We can have them in the background, and see them, but not ‘notice’ them, or we can absorb them – much like we can a piece of music.
I used to play in an orchestra, (I played clarinet), and sitting ‘inside’ the music was magical.To hear the different sections rehearse individually was fascinating – sometimes it didn’t sound like the final piece at all, but the conductor bringing it all together made the final sound.The study of the score showed how it all worked.
I find that photography is very much like this – we produce the first image, and then in conjunction with software, we hone it to a final version – which other folks can then either quickly look at, or hopefully, absorb.
There are photographs in my home that hang on the walls that I will enjoy looking at – and will spend time with, and there are others that are there for decoration only.Seeing some images is not the same as spending time really looking at them.
Minor White said that you should spend at least 30 minutes looking at a photograph – not saying anything, just looking and absorbing – and that’s the same with a piece of music.Having it running in the background is not the same as really listening to it. Minor died in 1976, leaving many images for us to absorb. Mostly black and white closeups, arranged in sequence so the viewer had to look carefully, and slowly. Go look at his work, the lighting is beautiful, and a lot of the images are very simple, but need to be looked at carefully.
Especially good are the images of his friend Tom Murphy, taken in 1948 – beautifully lit, Tom is muscular and naked – and though White struggled throughout his life with his homosexuality, he was able to still to produce images like these.
In these strange times of lockdown, maybe we should take more time to really look at our photography, and really listen to the music.Listen to the sounds of nature too, and allow ourselves the unaccustomed luxury of being able to ‘look’.
So, what’s next – and what do the next weeks have on offer for the photographer?Restrictions yes, but maybe opportunities too.
I might just break out the macro lens I bought and hardly used….. and get to grips with photoshop !
At least three months ago (probably longer), I did a talk for the RPS East Midlands Group on my completion of the Associateship Distinction. I did this in conjunction with a few other folks, who talked about Licentiate, and Fellowship. We did it in Grimsby Fishing Heritage Centre, and it went very well.. I do hope the RPS can run more events locally like this one…
Fast forward a little, and two of us (members of the Facebook, She Clicks group) were asked to repeat the talk as a Webinar.
Must confess to having got a bit excited about this, as did my co-presenter Lynn, who said she had to be bullied a bit to join in (not sure I had to bully much though!) ….. anyway………
Time passes – we start to put a talk together, and decide jointly that for most of it we would hide behind a slide show – not realising THEN, that even with the slide show running, we would still be in frame – albeit a small on in the corner of the screen.
This was revealed to us, during the rehearsal that we had with organiser Angela Nicholson, where we also had to figure out the software that was needed.
The Webinar was scheduled for December 4th, and I was away on holiday the week before – not getting back into the UK till late on the 2nd. Spent the 3rd updating what we were going to say, and then met early on the 4th to rehearse again and run through the talk – trying to remember not to talk over each other, and more importantly not to wave our arms around whilst speaking (must confess to being a bit of an arm waver…..)
What was disconcerting I found, was that although we could see Angela – we knew that no-one else could, so we sat looking into a camera, and apparently talked to ourselves for just about an hour….. it was a really odd feeling – In the back of my mind, I knew there were people there watching – but I’m used to seeing my ‘audience’, and hearing their mumbles…….
To cut a long story short – it seemed to go well – the feedback was positive, and although there are a few things I’d have changed (like probably smile a bit more – I think I might have looked a bit glum sometimes), and try not to be so hesitant over words – ie, practice more…. There were lots of questions at the end, and more on the Facebook page afterwards – which was great.
We were even told that we looked professional……
Having done it once, I think I’d be happy to do it again, especially with the knowledge that I have now. We all have to do things for a first time, and it can be nerve wracking…. I remember the first time I had to stand up and talk to an audience. It was a good few years ago, but I had had the benefit of a public speaking course. What I remembered was one thing……….
“Always remember that the folks down there looking at you, are probably thinking that they are glad it’s you, and not them…. so just look confident – get on with it, and they’ll appreciate everything you say”
Plus, the benefit is they can’t answer you back on a Webinar – well not till you’ve finished anyway….
So yes, I’d do it again, and having chatted to Lynn afterwards, I think she would too……
Here’s my ARPS Fine Art Panel that got me through, first time, and with flying colours….
I’m nearing the edge of Lincolnshire now – and was thinking that Spalding would be the furthest point on my journey South down the Meridian Line.
I still have to re-shoot some of the places I’ve visited already, as I’d like to get some more sunshine into the pictures. Also, I want to visit Greenwich, as this seems to be the place where it should end……
However….. yesterday we visited Spalding…. for the first time ever… so what is Spalding – what does the place name mean?
It’s both English and Scottish: a habitational name from a place in Lincolnshire, so called from the Old English tribal name Spaldingas ‘people of the district called Spald’. The district name probably means ‘ditches’, referring to the drainage channels in the fenland.
The river Welland runs through the middle of the town, and it was at one time, the town was well known for the annual Spalding Flower Parade, held from 1959 to 2013. The parade celebrated the region’s vast tulip production and the cultural links between the Fens and the landscape and people of South Holland (the clue is in the name)…
Archeological excavations at Wygate Park in Spalding have shown that there has been occupation in this area from at least the Roman period, when this part of Lincolnshire was used for the production of salt. It was a coastal siltland. At Wygate Park salt making seems to have come to an end by the mid-3rd century AD; climatic change and flooding may have made such activities difficult, causing the practice to die out.
The river was well used, and boats carrying all kinds of produce was moved up and down and out to the sea. You can see the merchants houses still, though some have had major conversions on them.
We didn’t have a lot of time to spend, so we moved a little further north to visit a memorial we had seen signed on a previous visit. This was to the Pilgrim Fathers, just outside Boston.
During the reign of Queen Elizabeth I, Protestant non-conformist religious beliefs flourished in England. One such belief was that of the Separatists, a group of Puritans with strong Lincolnshire links – Gainsborough was at the heart of the Lincolnshire Separatist movement, and another group was based just over the border at Scrooby in Nottinghamshire.
Separatists wanted the freedom to worship God away from the constraints of the Church of England. When Elizabeth was succeeded by King James I, there was a clampdown on such groups, it became illegal not to attend church and the Separatist Movement was banned in 1604.
Wanting to escape persecution, The Separatists decided to flee to The Netherlands, a far more tolerant Protestant country. In 1607, both the Gainsborough Separatists and the Scrooby Separatists travelled to Boston where boats were waiting to take them to Holland.
The Gainsborough Separatists successfully completed their journey and joined other English Separatists known as the Ancient Brethren in Leiden.
Unfortunately, The Scrooby Separatists were betrayed by their boat’s captain. Shortly after setting sail, they were intercepted at Scotia Creek (where this memorial stands), a few miles down river from Boston. They were arrested and all their goods seized.
The Scrooby Separatists were brought to Boston Guildhall where they remained in the cells whilst awaiting trial at Lincoln. After several months in prison, they were released and returned home to Scrooby penniless. Sympathisers eventually raised enough money to fund a second escape attempt, which this time was successful.
After living peacefully in Leiden for several years, the Ancient Brethren decided to sail for America in search of a better life in 1620. They hired two ships, the Speedwell, which was to transport passengers, and the larger Mayflower, which was to carry supplies, for this very hazardous journey across the Atlantic.
Unfortunately, the Speedwell started to take in water off the coast of Devon and it became obvious that the ship would be incapable of crossing the Atlantic. The passengers transferred to the Mayflower, which set sail from Plymouth on 6th September 1620 and landed in Massachusetts after an arduous two month voyage.
This small group of people became known as The Pilgrim Fathers, the founding fathers of America.
In the 1630s, another group of Lincolnshire Puritans left Boston for America. They founded a new settlement in Massachusetts and named it after their home town – Boston.
One of the most important of these settlers was The Reverend John Cotton, who was the very controversial Vicar of St. Botolphs’ Church in Boston. The Reverend Cotton made many enemies by preaching his non-conformist views and regularly found himself prosecuted at Lincoln’s Law Courts. In 1633, he sailed across the Atlantic to Boston, Massachusetts, and soon became spiritual leader of this church-dominated state. His influence increased further when he helped to draft the fundamental laws for the colony that are still applicable today.
You are able to walk further along – past the memorial, and views of the Boston Stump can be seen on the horizon…
A pillbox from WW2 still marks part of the estuary
For the time being, this is where my Lincolnshire journey will end, but I think there will be a further post about Spalding. We visited the parish church which is beautiful, and also the Alms houses there.
I shall revisit some of the places, and research some more, before finally completing the talk that will go with this exploration.
Until fairly recently I didn’t print a lot. Most of my work was created digitally, and rendered digitally. Then I realised that I needed prints for competitions I was entering, talks I was giving, and more recently for qualifications I was working towards.
I rediscovered my love of paper… I remember when I was at school, my fascination with reams of paper – the different textures and colours – and different shades of white. Later, when studying photography at college, we were encouraged to print on different paper types – since then though, I’d almost forgotten about the exercise we did – and it was whilst looking for something else in a cupboard, that I came across the project – with all the different papers.
The images I made for my ARPS, were all printed on Hahnemühle Photo Rag, and they were lovely (if I may say so myself…….).
Since then, I’ve used a variety of papers, and find myself using high gloss less and less. I really like the lustres, and satin mat for certain images.
Paper is sensual. The texture, the colour, the weave. In fact it’s a bit confusing to decide which to choose, and which will work best with each image.
My printer, which has been on its last legs for some time, finally ran out of one of the ink colours, and the way it is designed means that I can’t even print a text document in black (even though there’s plenty of that)… so I think that it will have to go to the great printer heaven at the tip.
I’ve been unable to make photographic prints at home for a long while because the fault in the printer heads meant that everything came out with a green cast – which looks pretty unpleasant – so everything has been outsourced to One Vision Imaging since last October, and it was whilst using them that I tried a number of different papers.
I kept using my old printer for documents, and drafts of things, but now it sits on my desk like an out of work dinosaur.
It’s going to take me a while to sort this out, but hopefully, when I do, it’ll be a smaller printer (everything used to be A3+). The last set of prints I made were 12 x 8 (a ratio I like a lot), and I’m convinced that for the most part this is big enough.
When I’m judging at clubs – I try to find time to say that sometimes bigger means more margin for error. With smaller prints, it’s harder to find some of the mistakes.
For the moment though, it is outsourced printing, till I can get a new printer.
Continuing on my journey – following the Meridian (or as near as – as the mood takes me) – we wandered over towards Tetford. We parked up, after noticing a disused chalk quarry with lots of signs warning us of the dangers therein, so of course we had to take a quick look. I hasten to add at this point, that we didn’t actually trespass, or climb over the wire – but there were photographs that we could take from the roadside. I didn’t much fancy falling over the cliff edge.
The site must have been a very busy one in the past, and we could still see the weigh station scales by only scrambling up the grassy bank.
I did a bit of a seach about this site, but could only discover that it was still in operation in 1970, but not when it closed. It was worked by Singleton Birch Ltd for the cretaceous Chalk to be used for industrial chalk and lime.
So, with the weather looking like it might get better – we pressed on towards Sumersby – the birthplace of Alfred, Lord Tennyson.
The whole area round Somersby is quintessentially English. The sort of place the J R R Tolkien would have felt at home in – and with village names like Bag Enderby – even more so. I think that Bilbo Baggins should have set up home here.
There has been a church at Somersby since the 1200’s, and this one is built of local Splilsby Sandstone. Alfred Lord Tennyson was born – and spent the first 28 years of his life here in Somersby. His father George Clayton Tennyson was rector of St. Margaret’s, Somersby and of its namesake in the neighbouring village of Bag Enderby for 23 years until his death. Pictures of that later.
Inside the church belfry was discovered graffiti which simply says ‘AT 1837’. Was this Alfred signing off? The family left that year and he never returned.
The statue of Tennyson is to the West end of the Church, and I was able to capture this silhouette as the light came through the window.
St Margaret’s sister church and namesake in nearby Bag Enderby, is also of greenstone and has several interesting features such as segmental window arches of note and a perpendicular octagonal font. Alfred Tennyson’s father was rector of both churches and would walk between the two, and deliver long and impenetrable sermons at both.
Tennyson himself spent many years wandering through this idyllic landscape composing his poetry as he went.
On the way home we decided to visit Ashby Puerorum – the name caught my eye on the map, and it’s not far off the Meridian Line, so although the light was fading, and it looked like rain – we went for a look……
Ashby Puerorum owes its unusual name to a 13th-century Bishop of Lincoln, Oliver Sutton, who renamed the village when he decreed that all profits from the living here should go to support the choirboys of Lincoln Cathedral. The name ‘Ashby Puerorum’ translates loosely as ‘the little boys’ Ashby’. The connection is remembered over 7 centuries later, for the choir still sings at St Andrews church occasionally.
The village dates to at least the late Saxon period and was mentioned in the Domesday Book of 1086 when it was owned by Bishop Odo of Bayeux, William the Conqueror’s half-brother. At that time it was called Ascheby, meaning a farmstead where ash trees grow. It supported a population of 9 villagers, 2 smallholders, and 14 freemen.
In the church tower are a pair of early medieval bells. The oldest bell is said to date from around 1150, which would make it the oldest surviving bell in the county. The church is set beside a farmyard and from the churchyard there are excellent views out over the Lincolnshire Wolds.
We ended our day, as the rain started at Brinkhill –
The church is dedicated to St Phillip and is a Grade II listed building dating from 1857. In the churchyard stands an ancient listed churchyard cross, the base of which dates from the 14th century, with a 19th-century alteration.
The Greenwich Prime Meridian line passes through the village.
I hope you are enjoying the Meridian journey. I’m hoping for better weather as time goes on, and hopefully at the end of it all, I can put together a talk for camera clubs, and anyone else who might like to see it all.
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