I’ve been trying to get some shots of Silver Birch for a while now.
You tend to think of birch as nice, silvery trees, standing straight and tall in nice neat rows. You’ve probably seen them in ‘Visit Canada’ brochures. Or outside Tate Modern or in architectural garden centres. But out in the UK countryside it’s a different story. All of the birch that I’ve found are algae green, gnarled and twisted and looking pretty tatty with dead twigs hanging from the branches. In the wild, they’re opportunist weeds that shoot up where they can.
Sometimes you have to go with the flow. Which is what I’ve done here. I waited for the mist, headed down to the woods at dawn, knowing full well that it doesn’t matter if my Silver Birch aren’t straight and white, nor planted in lines.
One thing I did notice were suspicious dog walkers wondering what I was doing. A rather nice lady came over to me and pointed at my camera saying “Are you photographing birds, have you spotted something unusual?” I explained that I was taking photographs of the trees.
She nodded politely. And walked away quickly in the other direction.
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