photography archives – IJM Photography

Good evening Dear Reader. Some of you may know that I live in France, despite being originally from the UK, and despite probably having gone native after living here for 30 years. I have even been accused of being a little “Continental” whatever that may mean.. I live in the west of France. You could think that I live in Nantes just judging by the quantity of photos taken in that city.

I actually live in a smallish village at the very northern edge of the Vendée and my village borders the “la Loire Inférieure” or to use the more modern term “la Loire Atlantique.” Our department number is 85 and theirs is 44. I’m not saying there is any animosity between the two, in the same way that there isn’t any animosity between the inhabitant of Lancashire, and God’s own county of Yorkshire. Absolutely none at all.

You now know where I am. Let’s have a closer look at that area through the lens of my Canon AE1. This series of photos was taken along my route to work. You can see the milestone on the road where the border between the two departments finds itself.

The trees along this stretch form a natural tunnel, creating an otherworldly atmosphere as sunlight filters through the canopy. Capturing that interplay of light and shadow was my goal with the Canon AE1. Despite some doubts about its metering capabilities, the camera performed admirably, and I’m thrilled with the results.

Since I took these photos, some of the trees have been cut back, making these images even more precious. They preserve a fleeting beauty—a reminder of how photography can immortalise moments before they change forever.

At the base of the hill runs a quiet stream, tame in spring but often overflowing in winter. Its stillness offers another perspective, reflecting the surrounding trees and clusters of mistletoe hanging high in their branches. These reflections, captured on film, reveal a different kind of magic—a mirror-like calm that contrasts with the lively interplay of light above.

This installment of the Film Archives is a tribute to the quiet beauty of my daily commute. Through these photographs, I hope to share not just a sense of place but a moment in time that speaks to the power of film photography to hold onto the ephemeral.

Stonehenge is something different for most people. For some it is a historical site in Wiltshire, and despite not being part of the 7 wonders of the ancient world, still remains pretty special. For some more “alternative” folks, it’s an ancient spiritual centre, and just happens to be on converging energy lines. For some it’s a day out with the children.

We had come back from a cruise that had taken us around the Canary islands, Lisbon, and Galicia in Spain. Thank you Mummy, and thank you Daddy! I think they felt guilty about us always coming up to see them in Northumberland, and wanted us to get a different holiday experience. Well, different it was! But that is a totally different story, and the photos can be found in the Olympus Trip 35 article.

So our ship docked at Southampton and we still were in the holiday mood. I remember as a small boy visiting Stonehenge, and thought it was “the” opportunity to introduce my family to the site.

It seemed slightly smaller than I remember it. As do most things if I’m going to be honest with you, but the majesty of the stones remained. As did the wonder at the fact that these stones had been dragged overland from Wales, and put into place, with the joints still being “rock solid” and down to the nearest millimetre. I work in a factory that does industrial woodworking and I know what we can do with modern tools and technology and yet here, this massive construction was put together using basic tools.

The children were just taking in the whole experience, and rather bemused at the sight of Japanese tourists being shoved around the site and taking the obligatory selfie. They also seem quite bemused by the amount of school groups being led around.

I preferred, as often as I do, to just take my time and take it all in and get some photos of the place. With the 40 mm zuiko lens I was getting some lovely environmental shots that you can see below.

My wife, however, was in tears. Crying her heart out. She later confided in me telling me how she just felt overcome with emotion. Maybe those lines of energy for those alternative folks might have something in them…