“Skunk cabbage!” shouted a passer by as I stood in the mud at the edge of a pond.

‘Bit rude,’ I thought.

But then I googled it, and he was dead right – about the plant.

American skunk cabbage, Symplocarpus foetidus, is an invasive non-native species of plant. It’s been banned for sale in the UK, not because of its smell (it stinks of skunks, apparently), but because it bullies and defeats our own wetland flora.

Photographed here in the grounds of @keeleuniversity, I quite like its sculpted exotic looks.

Worth getting muddy for, but I hope the grounds staff at Keele University are keeping the plant under control. Yeah?

Very light rain and gusts of wind, but the little pond in Hartshill Community Nature Reserve was sheltered enough for this 20 minute exposure.

Great to have this long thin strip of woodland at the end of my street.

This year I’m beginning a series of pinhole photographs on the theme ‘Creation’. I’m off the starting line…

Jerome

If you’re a photo artist in pursuit of perfection, then pinhole photography can be a lesson in how to ruin your day. It can be an extremely frustrating way of creating a photograph.

PODCAST: 2 minutes

Inspired by my conversation with artist Amy Davis last week, who encourages us to embrace the wonky and imperfect in our art, I enjoyed an energising couple of hours in today’s early spring sunlight, capturing this flutter of snowdrops.

Pinhole photography removes the opportunity for the photographer to overthink the image-making process. No lens, no precision shutter, just a piece of light sensitive paper in a light-tight box, and plenty of guesswork. It’s an invitation to abandon your skills to the elements, to kick back and enjoy the creative moment.

Sure, experience and knowledge as a photographer play a part, but ultimately you have to accept the image you’re given, and like it or not.

Today, I like it.

There’s beauty in not trying too hard.

Jerome