Haworth by night, West Yorkshire

As the month of May has been a busy month for alternative but better reasons, I just thought I would squeeze in a second post for the month to supplement the previous one.

I took a much needed week long break from life by visiting the west coast of Scotland with some unplanned and interesting surprises that needed to be photographically recorded ! The variety and interest of the trip resulted in the time consuming process of reducing 1400 images to a manageable size for the purpose of showing friends and no doubt yourselves in about 3 or 4 posts time.

Back to Haworth ... When staying overnight on the road, I'm always tempted to go out for a late night walk with the tripod. Depending on the light, some shots work and some don't. When I first started this branch of photography as a youth I always went for the floodlit buildings, but with the passing of time I realised that subtle can sometimes work better than bold.

Some of these images despite being slightly underexposed can have that tungsten feel about them with street lights being the enemy. I am by no means an expert but have gained a lot more experimental experience in digital than two or three pre-planned settings on 35mm film.

There was a lot less scope in Haworth than I thought but pubs always seem to have some interesting external light features. The above establishment was recommended to me by the Bed and Breakfast host with a redeemable discount voucher system for evening meal.

The other place I ate at night time was just around the corner (seen by daylight in the previous post)

It's never a comforting sight to see the above sign displayed in a prominent position in the main street with the knowledge that the premier photo location to capture The Bronte Parsonage is in an eerie graveyard. Trust me, the Haworth graveyard is not the best place to be in the day far less at night.

Tripod, the heavy rustling of trees and myself standing on a table top gravestone for the above image.

Taken from Parsonage, Bronte school on left, main square / top of street beyond church

The quiet night broken by the rustling of wind in the trees, the chimes of the church bell at 10pm, the echo of my footsteps on the cobbled stone and the cry of the child in a house in the lane. A mixture of me losing my nerve, spending too long in the graveyard and acquiring all the shots I was ever going to get. I decided that it was time to hurry back to the Bed and Breakfast down the lane. It was only at this point did I realise that the child thought that my footsteps were other abnormal graveyard activity !!