The beautiful gardens of Ashridge have been extensively documented and last week the place was looking as immaculate as ever.
I was trying to move past the frustration of my 'Prickly Creativity' moment and was hoping to resist the urge to match some of the amazing landscape and nature photography that hangs on the walls of the house. And I know those landscape photographers have a tough time - lots of waiting for the perfect light, the perfect colour of the autumnal trees, or a particular moment in the blossoming of a flower.
To be honest, even if I had the time, I'm not sure I have the patience. I probably don't have the technique either but the bigger issue for me is that I feel like I am following in someone else's shoes, copying a style or genre, making someone else's picture,
As conventionally beautiful can be, I like the brooding mystery and drama of the autumnal Ashridge, the flat wintry light and the misty darkness of the early morning before most folks are up and about.
So, what could it be to work with the actual, lived phenomena of a wet Ashridge morning as I experience it. Here is my response; the red Acer leaves were incredible even if most had been swept away by the gardeners, the intensity of the wet grass, the tricky half-light...
It could have looked different but this was how it felt.