100 Steps From Home: A Short Walk, a Long Environmental Shadow

The task for this month is to walk 100 steps from my front door and take some photos. Simple. Look ahead and behind, right and left, up and down. I set out with just my phone camera, curious as to what would emerge. What will catch my eye?

The first surprise was how far 100 paces took me - just to the end of the road, where I make the daily decision as to whether to go left or right:

The 'For Sale' sign is for our house. I suddenly realised that I was documenting a significant life event that might otherwise have gone unrecorded. This is the first time I have taken pictures of my local area like this, and as I am likely to be leaving soon, I am glad to have these as memories.

I also appreciated that these photos of my location would potentially be interesting for the other members of the project group who live in very different parts of the world, and who are doing the same challenge. I look forward to their 100 steps views!

Another aspect to the challenge is to take minimalist photos from the 100 step spot. The aim is to capture images that are free from clutter and distractions. Not easy in such a varied urban environment. I was helped by the clear blue sky giving me a great background of negative space.

What struck me most in this selection was my reaction to the sight of our national flags. While they indicate clearly that I am in England, they symbolise something more. Increasingly, they seem to signal a political stance, one that feels more associated with division than unity. Seeing them raised by my neighbours left me with an unexpected sense of discomfort, a reminder of how symbols can shift in meaning depending on the moment in which they’re viewed.

I continued to look for 'minimalist' views, something that reduces elements of a scene to its essence. What did I want to convey about this setting? I often walk this road on my way to the local woodland, so I wanted to frame a few shots that capture its proximity and its relationship with the surrounding houses. I was delighted to notice that one of the neighbours, like us, has installed solar panels. The juxtaposition of the panels against the woodland beyond felt significant—an image of how our attempts at sustainable living might, in some small way, support the natural environment.

But could I distill the scene down further? The dominance of the tarmac and the paving, which benefits me when I walk or drive to and from my home, also prevents the rainwater from soaking into the ground, reduces the spaces for plants to grow with a knock-on negative impact on pollinators.

I’m also aware that the images can’t capture what remains invisible to the eye: the fine dust from brakes, the thin traces of petrol and oil embedded in the road’s surface. When the rain comes, these unseen residues are lifted and carried into the drains, quietly making their way into local waterways.

In contrast, there are small, visible acts of resistance. Here and there, a wild plant claims its space, until an avid 'weeder' takes a hoe to it to keep the place 'tidy'. Standing here, a hundred steps from my front door, I find that working with a minimalist approach sharpens my attention. By reducing the frame, I begin to notice more: the tension between the built and the living:

What started off a a small stroll up the hill to the junction to take a few shots to share in the group, surprisingly turned into something quite thought-provoking. If I walk a little further, up and over the hill, the view changes: a valley of farmland is being replaced by 1,210 new homes. The tension is clear—housing is needed, but so is the land it consumes.

It makes me wonder if my own street was shaped by the same forces decades ago. Were the debates as charged then? Did others stand here, watching fields give way to foundations?

These photographs become less about a single view and more about revealing how this ordinary street is part of a much larger environmental story—one shaped by the accumulation of small, everyday choices, for better and for worse. Mulling all of this over, I return home for a welcome rest in the garden!

The RPS have a list of minimalist photographers to enjoy, although few very are female. The work of Noemie Goudal and Eva Chupikova (winner of the Minimalist Photographer of the Year 2024) is worth looking up. Eva comments " what matters is not what is shown clearly but the act of looking itself". I think this 100 step challenge has helped me to do that.

The projects of Natalie Christensen really resonated with me. Try the Enduring Indecision and The Deconstructed Self.

And Kim Grant shows how to create minimalist photos in this video.

#100stepsfromhome; #minimalism; #lookbeyond