5 Frames of Parched England with a Panasonic LX100

I started writing a post about some of my compact digital cameras the other day and have gotten bogged down in my own meandering ramblings about what I do and don’t like about various cameras in the collection. I have too many of the things really, and am planning to have a bit of a clear out. The simple fact is, I think I’d be perfectly content if I just had the Panasonic LX100.

This was brought home to me for the umpteenth time the other day when I took it out with me on a dog walk. I’ve been shooting my Nikon Zf almost exclusively for months now, but decided I couldn’t be bothered with carrying it on this particular day. For the first time in ages, it actually wasn’t too hot outside – just low twenties – which was something of a relief from the heat but also allowed us to take Kippy out in the daytime. We decided a walk on the Old Hills near Callow End in Worcestershire where I live was on the cards – it’s usually pretty quiet there, and there’s plenty of space for Kip to run about and wear himself out.

Despite it being cooler, as I say, I had ditched the bigger Zf in favour of the little LX100. I’m very familiar with the landscape of the Old Hills – we have walked there a lot of times over the last couple of decades. So much so that taking a camera sometimes feels pointless. This is when the LX100 feels like the obvious choice. There are plenty of times when it feels like the perfect camera for taking photos, but it’s also my first choice for when I don’t really have photography in mind. Like, I suspect, a lot of people reading this, I am the of the sort that struggles to leave the house without a camera, so having one I trust that I can just chuck in my little shoulder bag or pocket is a great solution to that bit of anxiety without it being a burden to tote around with me. This was exactly one of those occasions. I didn’t really intend or expect to take many photos on this outing, but I wanted to have a camera just in case the opportunity arose. And in the end, I did find myself inspired to take a few shots.

As always, the LX100 did the job perfectly. I got a few shots I like, but I didn’t really have to think about the process or the camera at all. It’s one of those cameras that just works effortlessly and flawlessly for me. I know exactly where I am at with it at all times. I know where the controls and settings I need to change are, and find myself entirely undistracted by features and settings I don’t need. I know what the wide and long end of the zoom range looks like and have set it so the intermediate range of the zoom is stepped at familiar focal lengths. The screen and the viewfinder could be better, but neither get in the way in use. An articulated screen on the back would make it perfect – but you can’t have it all!

I’m pleased with the results too. There’s obviously a narrative around the parched landscape here – the grass is yellow as there’s been no rain, or at least a vanishingly small amount of the stuff, for months. I’m sure many of us have thoughts about the impact of climate change. These sorts of issues were certainly a part of the conversation between me and my wife as we crunched our way through the crisp, dry grass. I’m used to the views being of rolling green fields. There’s only one other situation this changes and that’s when it snows and the green turns to white. Of course, if I shoot black and white, the green turns to grey, but that’s a choice I make as a photographer. When it snows, or doesn’t rain for months, the landscape is almost equally as changed. When it snows though, that just feels like an aesthetic change. When it doesn’t rain for months, the aesthetic changes, but it feels like there’s a bigger impact on the narrative too…

Share this post: