Entries by Robert

The other night I captured this image of the waxing moon and published a single (out of the camera) image taken at 1/160s, f/9 iso100.

On that same night I took a short sequence of 30 images at 1/160s, f/11 to try and avoid the highlight blowouts.
From these I picked the best 20, stacked them, drizzled them and performed some wavelet processing.

Here is the result. With three to four time more detail and the highlights mostly under control I think I have teased out as much detail as I can.

When the cloudy nights pass and we can see the moon again I'll try for more.


Photo: Robert Rath, 'Teasing Out The Detail', 1/160 f/11 ISO100 600mm

I have noticed many strange and interesting marketing campaigns promoting being good urban citizens and binning our litter. This campaign is perhaps the oddest.

First of all I am not sure it is selling the right message. After all, is not the very thing we love about bad jokes is joking how bad they are? Is the message here, an undesired behavior brings reward in the form of entertainment?

Perhaps I am just getting too creative in my thinking and maybe Edinburgh's litter campaign is making a difference.

Regrdless, this joke's on me!


Photo: Robert Rath, 'This Joke's On Me', 1/1250 f/4 ISO320 80mm

Fixer upperer, renovator's delight, builder's hobby home. These are all common expressions for a place that needs an extra dose of something special to restore or keep it's original charm and glory.

Kylemore Abbey, county Galway, ticks all those boxes but keeping it splendid in all it's glory might just demand a little more effort that your average homemaker can muster.

Perhaps this is exactly how the wealthy industrialist Dr. Mitchell Henry felt when he abandoned the family home he built and headed back to his native England.

The Benedictine nuns nuns who purchased the residence in the early 1900's clearly have help from a higher power and to this day the abbey is being continually renewed.


Photo: Robert Rath, 'Sacred Fixer Upperer', 1/125 f/8 ISO160 200mm

Below the boardwalk the sand is little bit cooler.

Below the boardwalk the sun is a little more bearable.

Below the boardwalk the shadows are a little less harsh.

Ablaze in the not so soft glow of twilight, Henley Beach Jetty is none of the above when camera turns evening into day.


Photo: Robert Rath, 'Below The Boardwalk', 30s f/11 ISO160 15mm

Above Moll's Gap along the Ring of Kerry is a secret path leading up into the hills.

Certainly this way is known to the goats and sheep that roam these places but perhaps there is another race familiar with the hidden green dells and high craggy ridges.

Known as the 'Tuatha de Danan', there were once a people who were proud rulers of Eiru until they were defeated by the Milesians, banished into the hidden underground places of Ireland and henceforth called the 'Aes sidhe', 'the people of the mound'. Thus began the rule of the Celts.

To this day legend has it that 'the people of the mound' will make mischief or friendship or grief on any unsuspecting person wandering off the common path. Like little gods they rule these places and you enter and leave at their pleasure.

I guess I got lucky, ... or did I?


Photo: Robert Rath, 'Land of Small Gods', 1/125 f/18 ISO100 14mm

The only thing we generally see different from night to night when we look to the moon is its own shadow progressing across its face.

That familiar pock marked disk of craters and ridges never changes. As for the 'dark side of the moon', it is the Moon's dark side day of our tidal side's night.

So what have tides to do with the dark side of the moon? Gravitational times long ago locked the Moon and Earth into an embrace of unrequited affection with the moon forever staring at its hot and cold, day and night neighbor.


Photo: Robert Rath, 'Unrequited Affection', 1/160 f/9 ISO100 600mm

No matter where I have traveled, as limited as that might be, the one common food theme that seems always present is bread.

Just like any other expression of our creativity it is not surprising to see beautiful creations of our imagination continually manifest in bread. In crusty whites or seeded whole grains. As loafs or toroids, cobs or buns there seem no end to the ways we are able to express our daily bread.

Perhaps this is what manner from heaven is really all about, our own creations!


Photo: Robert Rath, 'Our Daily Bread', 1/200s f/4.5 ISO160 200mm

Just under two kilometers north east of Skellig Michael is the smaller of the Skelligs, 'Liittle Skellig'. What struck me as the biggest difference between the two is that here on Little Skellig the sea birds ruled.

Tens of thousands of ganets and other migratory birds clings to every usable surface of this barren rocky crag. Maybe Skellig Michael was also once such a haven and possibly eclipsing its little brother but human settlement has most like driven them away.

As we circumnavigated this city of birds the smell and sounds overwhelmed making as happy in our eventual retreat from the sensory onslaught.

I'm sure one or two of the citiy's guards were sent to escort us clear only to circle back again as we made our was back to Portmagee.


Photo: Robert Rath, 'City of the Birds', 1/8000s f/7.1 ISO100 17mm

A long time ago in a land far far away people found refuge in a sacred haven from the rest of the world.

For centuries the monks of Skellig Michael, so named after Saint Micheal the Archangel , endured or reveled here sharing company with the seabirds and their faith.

Today Skellig Michael has lost none of its mysticism becoming the focal point of a different kind of monk from a long time ago and a galaxy far far away.

May the force of Skellig be with you.


Photo: Robert Rath, 'Skellig Michael', 1/1600s f/7.1 ISO100 200mm

These two beautiful gannets patrolling the waters off Little Skellig easily lived up to their reputation of Ireland’s most majestic seabird.

For a a few moments they flew in to hold perfect formation alongside our ungainly craft. With wings beating in unison and the and effortlessly glide they showed us up a thousand times over.

The gannet colony on Little Skellig has nearly 30,000 breading pairs making it the largest in all of Ireland. I wonder if any like Star Wars?


Photo: Robert Rath, 'Skellig Patrol', 2s f/18 ISO320 14mm

Busu and the Damask Drum was yet another Edinburgh Fringe performance inspired by classic Japanese theater combining ideas from two distinct and important plays from Japan's cultural history.

Exploring these two stories has given me glimpse into a world so alien to mine and yet so comfortingly similar. The 'Damask Drum' in particular explores unrequited love through a tragic ghost story, exploring the moral implications and perhaps the responsibilities of both protagonists.

Now I am wishing I had actually seen the performance rather than this brief moment on the street.

Next year?


Photo: Robert Rath, 'Busu & The Damask Drum', 1/160s f/3.2 ISO100 100mm

Wait a while after that sun has set on yet another day.

Wait a while and watch the colours change as the minutes pass.

Wait a while as the fading light retreats in pursuit of a westward sun.

Wait a while as blue turns to gold turns to grey.


Photo: Robert Rath, 'Blue Turns to Gold Turns To Grey', 2s f/18 ISO320 14mm

If I were either an industrial designer or a biologist specializing in mycology I think I'd be drawn to beer taps.

Once they were just utilitarian mechanical pumps drawing on the bartender's strength to 'pull' ale from kegs. Now however these bright iconic taps sporting their manufacturer's logos seem to sprout from bars like mushrooms.

Just like the the fungal mycelium under the ground, under bars lies a complex network of nylon tubes leading off to hidden kegs, cylinders of carbon-dioxide gas and refrigeration systems.

Mushrooms and beer taps; I wonder who else has noticed the uncanny similarity. Now if only one or two would pop up on our back lawn!


Photo: Robert Rath, 'Mushrooms and Beertaps', 1/100s f/3.2 ISO320 200mm

I've not been down to the beach much this winter. A combination of business, of travel and of lack of a beach habit had taken its toll resulting in, well, just not getting back to the beach.

Today I finally broke the fast, headed down to the beach at the end of my street and captured the evening spectacle.


Photo: Robert Rath, 'Look at The Moon', 1/4s f/16 ISO160 14mm

'Look at the moon' you said as we headed out for the evening.

As the full moon rises above the horizon seeming larger than normal it's almost impossible to not notices its ancient glowing face. I've lost count of the times I've heard those words.

Later that evening, high in the night's sky, the moon seems almost hidden as city street lights mask its ethereal glow.

Almost forgotten, I remembered to look directly above me and there she was. 'Look at me' said the moon!


Photo: Robert Rath, 'Look at The Moon', 1/400s f/11 ISO160 600mm

In the beautiful green Irish landscape moments of sunshine need to savored and cherished for the way they lift both the land and the spirit.

Even the locals know to take a moment from their busy day to bask in the the sun's ephemeral glow.

In a land made so beautifully green by rain and gloomy skies, the chance to bask in the sunshine must never be ignored.


Photo: Robert Rath, 'Basking In Sunshine', 1/2500s f/2.8 ISO100 200mm

I love watching the old puck violently purged over the grounds bin and the basket refilled with a fresh mound of ground coffee.

I love watching that twist of the of the wrist as the tamper is pressed then quickly withdrawn from a perfectly flat earthy brown disk.

I love watching those mice tails of espresso emerge from the portafilter, a sure sign the barrister knows their craft.

So much enjoyment and I've not yet taken my first sip. I love to watch my coffee being made.

Photo: Robert Rath, 'I Love To Watch', 1/40s f/2.8 ISO2500 200mm

Welcome November.


Photo: Robert Rath, 'Oíche Shamhna', 1/1600s f/3.5 ISO100 125mm

What more is there to say!

These two adorable pups playing outside our delightful Kinsale accommodation had mischief written all over their cute faces.

Of course I was going to photograph them.


Photo: Robert Rath, 'Mischief Makers', 1/400s f/3.5 ISO1000 200mm

For recent visitors to Ireland, Dún Chathail (Charles Fort) marks either the beginning or the end of the 'Wild Atlantic Way' depending on which end you begin.

For such an impressive stronghold it's hard to imagine it ever being captured. Taken it was though in 1690 during the Williamite–Jacobite War, a turning point in Irish History.

The fortress positioned to protect Kinsale from a seaward assault was designed with enough resilience to weather sustained canon fire. Sometime into its construction the unlikely possibility of a land based assault was considered and additional fortifications were designed accordingly. Unfortunately due to political turns the money needed by the Jacobites (supporters of the deposed King James II) to construct the new fortifications was never forthcoming and this combined with a cockiness on its impregnability meant the additional construction never eventuated.

In 1690 John Churchill (once a Jacobite but having shifted his allegiance to the William III) commanded a completely unexpected land based assault besieging the fortress for thirteen days before its outer walls were breached and the stronghold captured. The battle was one small victory for the Williamites during the wider European conflict known as the 'Nine Years' War' however it firmly propelled John Churchill towards becoming one of the most powerful and wealthiest generals in British history.

Visiting Charles Fort in Kinsale was initially just going to be another attraction along the 'Wild Atlantic Way', I left however with just a little bit more insight into Ireland's and Britain's tumultuous past.


Photo: Robert Rath, 'Dún Chathail', 1/4000s f/5 ISO100 17mm

This image taken from the lookout over Conor Pass on the Dingle Peninsula typifies the extraordinary beauty of Ireland.

I've been coming to Ireland now for the past fifteen years thanks in part to my beautiful Irish girl Jennifer, the engaging warmth of the Irish people and to the breathtaking beauty of the land.

So it was with a little trepidation that we sought to show off this amazing country to our dearest Australian friends; wanting them to fall in love with the land, the language and the people as I had.

For nearly three weeks we traveled the Wild Atlantic Way together, following Ireland's western coastline from Kinsale in the south up into the northern wilds of Donegal.

For nearly three weeks together we experienced sunny days, amazing skies and gorgeous landscapes.

We were welcomed into people's homes with true Irish hospitality. We enjoyed wonderful nights out with fantastic food, live music and the 'craic' as only the locals know how to enjoy.

I think we succeed in our mission. Welcome to Ireland.


Photo: Robert Rath, 'Welcome to Ireland', 1/800s f/8 ISO100 14mm

It's not the best image being limited to my seat and hand holding my camera but the final parade of the Edinburgh Tattoo on the esplanade of Edinburgh Castle seems like a fitting image to farewell this amazing city.

One last hurrah before leaving Edinburgh and Scotland.


Photo: Robert Rath, 'One Last Hurrah', 1/30s f/4 ISO1600 24mm

Just a short walk from the castle in Edinburgh is a little cafe on a busy road which tourists from all over the world want to visit.

It's not the coffee, it's not the ambiance nor is it the the service which has launched this little cafe from obscurity to fame but its notoriety as the birthplace of the Harry Potter stories.

From the front of 'The Elephant House', this cafe does not seem like much with a few windows looking back out onto a bustling Edinburgh main road. What is not so obvious at first is that the entry off of George IV Bridge is actually the third floor.

Go inside however and look out from the rear windows and it's a different story. From its third story vantage the cafe has the most wonderful views across Candlemaker Row into Greyfriars Kirkyard and the old town of Edinburgh beyond. With such wonderful views like these it is not surprising how J.K. Rowling became inspired to write those first stories of Harry Potter and the rest is now history.

So yes we found our elephant outside the room.


Photo: Robert Rath, 'The Elephant Outside The Room', 1/200s f/4.5 ISO100 145mm

There was a great sense of expectation as we entered the hallowed vault in Edinburgh's Scotch Whisky Experience.

There, bathed in the glowing gold of its own making were 3384 unique bottles of Scotland's most renowned export, scotch whisky.

This collection was once the 35 year passion of Brazilian collector, Claive Vidiz. Purchased by global liquor giant Diageo for an undisclosed sum, this collection is now permanently on loan for public viewing here in Edinburgh.

The scotch whisky success story is quite a tale and well worth spending some time to learn if you are curious. I tip my imaginary hat to an industry where the story goes that the Irish brought whiskey making to the Scottish and they never got the joke!

Yes, I slipped that 'e' into whiskey on purpose. It's my little tribute to the unsung origins of whiskey in Scotland.


Photo: Robert Rath, 'Scottish Gold', 1/40s f/5.6 ISO640 105mm

Throughout the streets of Edinburgh performers gain notoriety through their talent, their persistence and recognition. But not 'The Phantom'.

Nobody knows who he is or where he's from. Is his name Johnny and is that fiddle made of gold?
I suspect no on both counts as he's not wearing a check shirt and that violin actually sounded like a real wooden violin!

So in my musings he will remain the Phantom of the Orchestra until proved otherwise.


Photo: Robert Rath, 'Phantom of the Orchestra', 1/640s f/3.2 ISO320 170mm

Scott Monument is an imposing and somewhat unusual structure part of the Princes Street Gardens, Edinburgh. The hecklers deride its appearance as an object pulled from the top of some European cathedral and plonked on the ground. Others simply marvel at its simple design but intricate detail. The monument itself was commissioned in 1838 to celebrate the life and achievements of Sir Walter Scott, one of Scotland's most celebrated authors and poets.

The architect who won the competition for the monument's design, George Meikle Kemp, was self taught and used a pseudonym for fear his lack of qualifications would discount his entry. His design however was filled with the characters from Scott's work in addition to the usual gothic effigies and was chosen as the popular choice.

It would have been nice to simply say 'beam me up Scotty' but instead we climbed to the very top, all 287 steps up a series of progressively narrowing stone staircases to around 60m. The last section was so narrow you had to step sideways just to fit. Our effort was rewarded with stunning views of the old town and Castle Rock to the South and a panoramic vista of the Edinburgh heading out in every other direction.

Next time we visit maybe Scotty just might ...


Photo: Robert Rath, 'Beam Me Up Scotty', 1/80s f/8.0 ISO100 17mm

"I've found a place I'd like you to see; It's a surprise but I think you will find it very interesting." So I put my trust in Andy and allowed him to lead us back towards the castle.

Suddenly amidst the busy architecture of the Edinburgh old town an alley led from the street up to what I first thought was a large walled garden. As stone made way to green grass and lush trees I realised Andy has led us into a large graveyard, Greyfriars Kirkyard. With a grin he said, "see I knew you'd like it!"

The graves here were very old dating back to the 1500s. I've read that Greyfriars Kirkyard is one of the most haunted grave sites in all of Scotland with many documented cases of people becoming hysterical, inexplicably bruised and bloodied by some unseen assailant and many cases of people simply fainting.

I can't say I found this place peaceful but I did find it interesting both for its history and its visual intensity.

Although I captured many disturbing effigies on old graves this simple scene caught my eye. A little bit of new life atop the stone lid of an old tomb.


Photo: Robert Rath, 'Life on Death', 1/4000s f/2.8 ISO100 200mm

What makes a street photograph interesting?

A snapshot moment of ordinary life;

An unusual interaction between people or things;

People out of context;

Or perhaps just an image that draws you in with questions and wonder.

I really have no idea but but in this moment I just loved the look on that little girl's face as the military police officer strode by on some mission.

Edinburgh Fringe, 2017


Photo: Robert Rath, 'Man On A Mission', 1/400s f/4.5 ISO320 200mm

Two years ago I would never have imagined I'd be here in Edinburgh attending what is claimed to be 'The greatest show on Earth'. A year ago I started entertaining the idea of visiting Scotland but the reason has nothing to do with liking military band performances.

Around two years ago two of my very best friends Kate and Gavin started learning to play the highland pipes. At that time the idea of playing at an international event could not have been further from their thoughts. Soon into their new found passion the chance to play in the 2017 Edinburgh Military Tattoo was presented as a possibility to the both of them if they were committed enough, worked hard enough and become good enough in time.

Fast forward to the end of August 2017 and here were are in the stands overlooking the Edinburgh Castle Esplanade where our friends Kate and Gavin and Elise are performing below. Who would have thought!

The music was exemplary, the setting grand and the weather perfect but being here has not converted me to the supposed delights of performing bands and international dance troupes. Still I would not have missed it for all the whisky in Scotland (hmmm well just maybe).

And yes Kate and Gavin and Elise are all there in sight if you just know where to look.


Photo: Robert Rath, 'Tattoo You Too', 1/60s f/5.0 ISO1600 70mm

I have tried and tried and tried to identify this Australia guy in Edinburgh. I have found images of him busking in various cities but no one has put a name to this busker's face.

He was good, really good but surely he must have been thinking he's at a piano the way he's hitting those keys.

Now, days later later going through my images I am lamenting the fact that I did not make that little bit of extra effort to find out his name.

Oh well, until I know any different I'll just have to call him 'The Busker' and remember to ask the next time I see him in the streets of, well; ... next time.


Photo: Robert Rath, 'The Busker', 1/1250s f/2.8 ISO320 105mm