Landscape Claustrophobia: A walk around the foggy Codnor Park Reservoir.

Dense, thick and something akin to a hypothetical “pea soup” at least that is what I thought it was when I had arrived at “Codnor Park Reservoir” a rather unassuming body of water flanked on all sides by gentle swathes of woodland and easy access to the waters edge for fishing. For you could be forgiven for thinking that this particular reservoir is just a reservoir but its existence goes back to the days in which the Cromford Canal would have looked rather different, and Ironville would have been a smelting pot of industry, reliant on the Cromford Canal for transportation purposes - now days though the canal itself is quiet and further upstream at Cromford the canal can still be seen, however follow the canal downstream and it vanishes, but traces can still be seen. Of course though Codnor Park Reservoir is situated on the course of the Cromford Canal and it is here that you can take a glimpse into the past and see the un-navigable remains of this once busy canal.

However though the skies were not visible and instead everything was grey, for a thick fog had been lingering all day, and wherever there is water, the fog somehow seems thicker and slightly more claustrophobic, but did this matter? To me it did not, as I captured the following rather minimal photo of the metal bridge that leads in the direction of the dam.

Startpoint.

But instead of going over that bridge I glimpsed to my left and the minimalism of the trees on the other side of the reservoir screamed out at me, dense was the fog and on the frozen body of water, the ducks, swans and seagulls were partaking in a strange version of dancing on ice, I just had to capture the following rather grey photograph.

Skating are the birds.

.After capturing that photo I continued walking and soon the path ahead of me looked calm, eerie almost and evocative, the grey almost claustrophobic fog having an impact on me, yet it was so peaceful and calm, like nothing else I had experienced before, a sense of magic I was enveloped within and yet the cold harshness could be felt, tranquillity beside the water. I had previously visited Codnor Park Reservoir last year and whilst it was not foggy it was grey but at least you could see, instead this time it was like walking or bathing in a dense amount of pea soup, yes the fog was really claggy and dense, but did that stop things from being so magical? No it did not, anyone else would have more than likely wanted to stop and head back home to keep warm but I just wanted to continue and find some more magic that would be waiting for me as I walked around this calm lifeless body of water, frozen over and shrouded in a blanket of thick, grey fog.

I had walked a short distance now and something screamed out at me, the trees that were flanking the reservoir looked mystical, almost something akin to “middle earth” from lord of the rings and I had to slow down - for they looked magical, calm and more like works of art, the water still eerily still with no lapping, instead pure silence and I managed to get the following photographs.

Robots of the water - (landscape).

Robots of the water - (portrait).

Reflections of solitude - (colour).

Reflections of solitude - (black and white).

A little further on and another brief stop, this time I looked back over the water at the other side of the reservoir and things just looked so still, grey and bleak in a lot of ways, not bleak as in wild, but instead bleak and harsh, peaceful it was but that was all part of the magic, a lack of people and instead it was me vs nature, working with nature and amazed at what it was providing.

To the other side.

What is on the other side?

Fog surrounding.

After taking that minimalistic photo I continued along the pathway, claggy it was underfoot but ahead of me the leading line of the path leading into the fog was something else I just had to capture.

A mystery path - (portrait).

A mystery path - (landscape).

There is something as a landscape photographer about pathways, they can be both thought provoking and one of the most simple things to capture, and yet they always change no matter what season it is and that is one of the most exciting things, along of course with the “leading lines” which can add a little something else to what could be a potentially bland photograph. A little further down the path things started to get more and more interesting, the fog and the density of it was something to behold, I paused and looked back, looked back at the reservoir, by now no ice on this particular stretch of water but not even a solitary ripple - instead stillness, calmness that was so eerie, spooky yet relaxing in a strange way.

Window of the fog - (landscape).

Window of the fog - (portrait).

By the water is art.

Side's and paths.

I continued to walk for a short distance until I had to stop yet again for I had come to feel like I was now within the mangroves, the stillness of the trees, the fog and the trees just looked so peaceful, petrified, science fiction like to some degree.

“Fog, what is it? Dense is what it is and a sort of nothing that makes no sense, odd is the other way of describing it - but in reality it can provide something else and make photography that little bit more interesting.”

Like the mangroves is what the quiet unassuming woodland was like and it was this section where I slowed down even more to take the sweet sound of nothing in, the sound of silence and still.

The mangroves of Ironville - (portrait).

The mangroves of Ironville - (landscape).

The meeting point.

Enter the dream.

A walk through claustrophobia.

Formations within an apocalypse.

Carrying on the walk I crossed over a metal bridge, apocalyptic almost and modern, yet the view from the bridge looking up the bare boned remains of the Cromford Canal with the fog, made for an alien view.

Ghosts on the Cromford Canal - (landscape).

Ghosts on the Cromford Canal - (portrait).

Upon the other side of the bridge, I turned left and investigated some more of the quiet, still remains of the Cromford Canal - it just looked so mysterious, frozen in time, not a sound apart from the sounds of yesteryear within the auditory imagination from times gone by when this canal would have been busy with industry, now silence yet pause here and imagine what things would have been like, I did.

Gathering thoughts.

Into the fog we walk - (landscape).

Into the fog we walk - (portrait),

Turning back on myself I walked the short distance along the pathway that runs alongside the opposite side of the reservoir, shrouded in woodland with little pathways leading off towards the quiet fishing spots where anglers wait with baited breath to catch something, for how many hours do they await for a fish to bite? Either way in front of me the trees just looked magical and the frame that I found with the pathway leading down a slight incline was something else.

Gateway to Mordor - (Portrait).

Gateway to Mordor - (Landscape).

Truly enchanted I was at this stage, the fields just barely visible on the left hand side of the path and the “Mordor” like woodlands on the right of the path that I was one just looked petrified, bleak and asleep - yet the birds awake, whilst other creatures sleep. The pathway ahead of me silent and bleak, with the moody grey of the dense and thick fog as company, I continued to walk and each time the trees looked different, like something from a fantasy novel that somehow you just cannot put down - one that wants you to keep reading and investigating the characters within it.

Fog meets the gound.

Rainforest or not?

Inner serenity - (Portrait).

Inner serenity - (landscape).

A grey empty space.

Inside the mind of fog.

The lookback.

Paths to grey.

Undergrowth.

Amongst aliens.

Twisted fog - (landscape).

Twisted fog - (portrait).

Eerie is the path to Mordor.

Leading down to solitude.

Eventually the distance between the fields and the reservoir narrowed and to the right of me, grey with a singular path leading to a platform for anglers.

Simply platform.

Now the water was closer, flat and calm it was with ducks, moorhens and swans mooching about, the seagulls in the distance still skating on the ice, but flanking and hugging the non icy section was life, bird life, it was like I had entered another world, another planet perhaps.

A window on the reservoir.

Forever grey.

Then by magic, swans came out of nowhere gliding gracefully along the water, hugging and flanking the shoreline, serene and gentle they were heading towards me and I just had to capture them.

Emerging from the sides.

The swan train.

A train of swans.

After the swans had said hello, I kept walking, through this eerie landscape and pathway that lay ahead of me, but I could not help, looking back at the route I had walked along, a sense of calm was still surrounding me and the bulrushes and trees blending silently into the fog like disappearing ghosts was just something to behold, pausing briefly everything felt so ethereal, dreamlike almost yet alien, “is this reality or imagination?” is what I thought to myself; but no this is reality. Strange really how the environment and the weather can have on the mind.

Foggy sides.

In quiet solitude they grow - (colour).

Like the ghosts - (black and white).

Like the ghosts - (colour).

Reservoir stillness - (Black and White).

Reservoir stillness - (colour).

Blending within.

Glow of fog - (portrait).

Glow of fog - (landscape).

In front of me the path started to go up an incline, and I turned right, walking over the dam in the direction of where I had started the walk from, across the path at the top of the dam I walked, amongst the grey, with no visible views over the water to look at, instead though on the left of me a bridge, an old bridge over a disused branch of canal that would have joined onto the Cromford Canal, now though this old bridge is rather photogenic and the skies above the bridge milky almost with the moon just poking through above the fog.

Through fog, through trees - (landscape/Black and White).

Through fog, through trees - (landscape).

Through trees, through fog - (portrait).

Approaching the bridge.

Under the arch.

Moonshine through fog - (portrait).

Moonshine through fog - (landscape).

I walked back along the connecting bank towards the location where I started from, but looking back the dam seemed curious, like a hidden sleeping creature, designed to keep water within the reservoir and water from creating potential havoc and damage, yet amongst the fog it looked so magical.

Fog on the dam - (Black and White).

Fog on the dam - (colour).

By now it was dark, and behind the location of where I had started the walk from, a road with cars passing up and down it, was the next subject I wanted to capture, dark it was by now but maybe that is one of the reasons why I managed to get these ethereal and science fiction looking photos.

Rapture in the fog.

Finally I had finished my walk of “landscape claustrophobia” , the fog making the mind feel that little hemmed in, yet was I to complain about the fog? No I had embraced the most of it, and made something out of a flat and otherwise dull, dank, grey and seemingly foul afternoon and even though there was a distinct lack of sunshine or light, the fog had proven to me that you have to work with the weather and the landscape - but sometimes within photography the best things are minimal and the fog sure did provide that minimalism that we sometimes need.