So… remember when we said “last of the season” for Manchester? Yeah, about that. Turns out the weather didn’t get the memo—and neither did we.
Blame the Sigma. Specifically, the 150-500mm APO beast that landed in my kit recently. You know how it goes: new glass, itchy fingers, and a stubborn refusal to let drizzle ruin a perfectly good day of plane spotting. So off we went, back to the tarmac edges of Manchester Airport, armed with thermals, caffeine, and a lens that could probably see into the cockpit if the pilot left the window open.
This wasn’t just a casual outing. It was a full-blown lens trial. I wanted to see what this Sigma could do in real-world conditions—overcast skies, fast-moving aircraft, and the occasional rain squall that makes you question your life choices. And let me tell you, it did not disappoint.
The sharpness? Ridiculous. The reach? Borderline absurd. I was tracking aircraft from halfway across the field and still getting detail on the nose art. But the real kicker came later, during post-processing.
My partner—who, bless him, has the patience of a saint when it comes to colour correction—was helping me sort through the batch when he stopped dead. “What’s this muck on the nose?” he asked, squinting at a close-up of a jet’s front end. “Bug splats? Dirt?”
Nope. Rain drops. Individual. Speckled. Perfectly formed.
We zoomed in, and there they were—tiny beads of water caught mid-flight, frozen in time like nature’s own texture overlay. It was one of those moments where you realise your gear’s not just good—it’s showing you things you didn’t even know were there.
Now, just to spice things up, Storm Amy decided to swing by. Not full-blown chaos, but enough wind to make the arrivals look like they were auditioning for a sideways ballet. There’s something oddly exhilarating about watching a wide-body jet crab its way down the runway like it’s trying not to spill its pint.
We were perched in our usual spot, wind howling, lens braced, and every landing felt like a gamble. Would they straighten up in time? Would the wheels kiss the tarmac or slap it like a disgruntled toddler, *coughs* Ryan Air? Either way, it was brilliant. The Sigma handled the gusts like a champ (It grabs wind like a kite, Optical stabilisation came in handy), and the shots we got—wings tilted, rudders twitching—have a drama to them that you just don’t get on a calm day.
It’s the kind of madness that makes you forget your fingers are numb and your coffee’s gone cold. You’re just locked in, waiting for the next approach, hoping the wind gives it a little wobble for the camera.
Despite the forecast doing its best impression of a soggy sponge, the day went surprisingly well. The clouds gave us some lovely diffused light, and the occasional break in the gloom let a bit of drama creep into the shots. There’s something about photographing aircraft in moody weather that adds a layer of grit and realism—like they’re powering through, just like us.
We even managed a few sequences that I’m itching to edit properly. The Sigma’s responsiveness made tracking easier than expected, and I’ve got high hopes for some action shots once I get stuck into the batch.
Well, if the weather keeps playing nice (or at least not actively hostile), we might squeeze in another trip before the year’s out. The new lens has definitely reignited the spark, and I’m keen to push it further—maybe some low-light work, or a few dusk departures if we can time it right.
In the meantime, keep an eye on the gallery. There’ll be a fresh upload soon, and if you spot any speckles on the nose… they’re probably not bugs.
