As I shall shortly being moving to a flat featureless plain (Cambridge) in preparation for a flatter featurelesser plain, I've been enjoying the bumpy, grassy edge of the Cotswolds as much as I can before I cannot. I've also got a New Toy, so spent a part of the weekend walking about taking pictures using only the automatic settings of the D70 in order to discover what it can do by itself.
In the main, I find that the camera makes me mostly redundant, but leaves a tiny little gap for the human mind to assert itself and correct occasional moments where it can't work out quite what I meant it to be doing when I fired it off.
So, without further ado, Cleeve Hill:
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