Once upon a time I would spend hours planning photography trips — paper maps, Google Maps, Google Earth, weather apps, checking images on Flickr, writing out shot lists, and heading out with a massive rucksack full of equipment. Most of the time, despite all that planning, I still came away feeling underwhelmed. Occasionally I'd get an image I liked, and I'd probably not used half of what I'd carried.

After a serious rethink, the way I work changed significantly. These days the only thing that gets planned is where I'm going and the walking route I'm going to take. The photography happens naturally as I walk. I reduced my equipment right down so everything fits into a hip pack — no tripod, all handheld. For me a tripod slows the walk down and breaks the flow, and the walk always comes first. That's not laziness or a lack of care — it's a deliberate choice. The photography is taken just as seriously, it just has to fit around the way I work. I stay present in the moment and photograph what catches my eye. I don't force a scene. If something stops me, I photograph it.

I head out when I can, fitting walks and photography around work and whatever else life throws at the week. If that means harsh midday sun instead of golden hour, that's what I work with. Over time you learn to use the conditions you're given, and to appreciate the fact you're out at all.

I shoot exclusively in black and white, always in JPEG rather than RAW. That means every decision is made in the moment rather than in post-processing. What the camera sees is what the image becomes. There's no RAW safety net — I commit to the look in-camera, the same way I used to shoot film, and try to do as little post-processing as possible.

My main setup is a pair of older Sony A-mount DSLRs — the A350 from 2008 and the A700 from 2007, usually paired with the Zeiss 16–80 and Sony 55–200 lenses. They're both APS-C cameras, one with a CCD sensor and one with a CMOS, which gives me two slightly different takes on the same landscape while sharing the same lenses and batteries. I'm not chasing clinical sharpness or technical perfection — I want character and consistency. The results have a texture and tonality that feel closer to the way the landscape actually looks and feels when you're walking through it — imperfect, weathered, and honest. For my kind of photography, that matters far more than specs or resolution charts.

I also still shoot film from time to time. There's something about the process that keeps you grounded — slower, more deliberate, and no instant playback. Although I’ve now thinned my film equipment down I currently use a Nikon L35AD and an old Box Brownie now and then, mainly for the experience rather than perfection.

Do you need the latest high-spec camera gear for your photography? Unless you're a professional, I'd say no. I've been there — lugging camera bags stuffed with bodies and lenses, owning full-frame, APS-C, and Micro Four Thirds cameras packed with specs and functions, and finding most of it was massive overkill. Half the features never got touched. Over the years I've slowly stripped things back, preferring lightweight portability over a bad back.

If you want to spend your money wisely, invest in good quality lenses for whatever system you already use. Better camera bodies don't make better photographs — they just make parts of the process quicker or easier. Someone once said it's not the camera full of specs you'll pick up, it's the one that appeals to you. There's a lot of truth in that. I like minimal cameras with tactile buttons and dials rather than forever diving into menus, and the A350 and A700 both have that older DSLR feel that suits the way I work.

Walking With Pics is about black and white rural photography rooted in the Chiltern Hills, Buckinghamshire, and the wider English countryside. It's about looking closely at familiar places, spending time in them properly, and documenting what everyday rural England actually looks like — not the version that exists only in perfect light at famous locations, but the real, working, walked-through version.