OK, so this post is simply a quick one to plug the fact that sometimes it pays to have the best equipment there is.

If you’ve ever wondered what the difference is between semi-pro and pro gear, Monday was where it showed. We have always invested heavily in our equipment and my faithful Nikon D3 and 70-200VR lens (both top of the range professional bits of kit with unfortunately hefty price tags to go with them) proved their worth. Toward the end of Clare and Matt’s the wedding, the rain came clattering down and both me and the equipment got absolutely soaked (and I do mean soaked). And all without so much as a murmur (well, my equipment didn’t moan anyway…)

Just as well as I would have missed some of the really cool and romantic wedding shots had I been worrying about keeping my gear dry.

So take note when someone informs you that you don’t need the best equipment (and not just the best equipment but backup cameras and lenses as well) to be a professional photographer: they may well be right for 90% of the time (it is, after all, the photographer NOT the equipment that sees and captures the magic of a moment) but what about that extraordinary 10% like Monday? The equipment wasn’t a concern even for a second – and that, I think, is the way it should be.

Apologies to anyone keeping an eye on the blog and wondering what order I’m posting things – ideally the posts should always be in chronological order however, we’ve just been away this week and it’s somewhat messed up my system (I kept on top of things from a hotel lobby in Spain – one euro per 10 minutes!) but I didn’t quite manage to get this post up in time which is a shame ’cause it was a shoot that I really wanted to show everyone!

I photographed Deborah, Jonathan and Alice (and the two canine family members, Lucy and Sam) up at Coombe Hill on the most gorgeous hot and sunny afternoon. Blooming lovely – the indigo and violet curtain call of this season’s Bluebells, dappled light drifting lazily through the new leaves and the dulcet tones of people yelling “Rover come, come. Rover, ROVER, ROOOOVVVVVEEERRR”. Ah, halcyon days indeed.

Anyway, the stage was set for capturing magical images and we were not to be disappointed. Alice in particular was, to put it frankly, an absolute star.

Whatever shot we were trying to get, she tirelessly worked the camera throughout the session. I don’t think was much that she couldn’t do, from those heart-warming grins that would melt any parents heart to the more serious expressions with real depth behind the eyes that will translate into framed pictures that seemingly magnetically draw you in. And all of it done as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Just stunning.

Our approach for capturing images that are relaxed and informal is, funnily enough, to purposely make the session relaxed and informal (with a big pot of invigorating tea midway through – well, we are in England after all) however, you can clearly see in the images that a small degree of staging (I prefer the term to ‘posing’) is used to structure whatever look we’re searching for. And, with Alice’s ability to translate requests into different looks and poses, and a remarkable confidence in front of the camera – along with particularly unnerving enthusiasm for climbing trees – we have a load of gorgeous images.

Other than to fill an album, I really am not sure how we’ll whittle this lot down!

I do have to say, I neither watch a vast amount of TV (the weather being a notable though possibly predictable and slightly dull exception) nor do I ever sign up to a campaign. However, for whatever reason, the Channel4 series “Hugh’s Chicken Run” has really got to me tonight.

Now please, don’t get me wrong, I’m as partial to a nice McChicken Sandwich or Chicken Royale as the next man, but I have to say this one has properly got to me. Call me old fashioned but animals should not be sitting in their own crap for two weeks before we plastic wrap ‘n’ roast ‘em and feed ‘em to our kids. I swear the programme has nearly sent me over the edge and created one more vegetarian on the planet – though I think the smell of a barbecue steak would always be my undoing and, besides, the kids would kill me if I single-handedly took sausage’n'mash (only Parminter’s finest bangers you understand) off the menu.

Either way, I would like to think we’re giving the kids the best possible food (for goodness sake, even our soppy mut of a spaniel, Oscar, gets dog food that wouldn’t look out of place on a dinner plate!) even if I still hanker after McTuckyKing’s best.

Clearly, should I distractedly stumble across a takeaway after a hazy evening of fine refreshment and gentle wit and repartee, I doubt I’ll be paying much attention to any single aspect of the delicicies on offer – in fact, probably the only consideration will be it’s propensity for filling a void – I shall, however, be sourcing free-range birds for every other purpose. Given that the farms in the Haddenham area also produce free-range stock, I reckon it’s not a bad thing for the local economy either.

Can’t be bad, now can it?