Rocking all over…Skye!

Somewhere in the unfathomable depths of our minds, we all connect differently with places, people and cultural trends like music and fashion. I guess it’s what’s referred to as taste. Most would say…well at least my wife…that I’m not over-endowed in that department: she’s seen my 30 year allegiance to Status Quo (try as I might Hip Dizzy Doo-Daa Wotsit just doesn’t do it for me)! And so it is with photographic locations.

Last autumn I visited Skye for the first time (yes OK it’s taken me a while) and I wrote about it in this blog. It was a great trip (fun group of people always helps) but in many ways, not radically different from any other. So why is it niggling away at me? Why is it I can’t wait to get back? Is it that for some reason I connected with the place…or the people? I’m not sure to be honest. What I do know though is that in spite of it’s well-visited iconic landmarks, Skye is somehow tugging at my creative apron strings.

As time goes on working in Scotland is becoming increasingly exciting – I’m seeing new opportunities for creative imagery and perhaps more significantly, visual story-telling. Skye is right up there on my list, a list which in the past might have been topped with ostensibly more rewarding locations much further a field. So perhaps my photographic perspective is evolving (I hope that’s the case) and perhaps too are my tastes. As for the Quo, well some things transcend fickle cultural trends. Down Down y’all.

ps. If you fancy joining myself and colleague Mark Hamblin in Skye, take a look in Photo-tours.


Winter Wildlife 1

We’re into our season of Winter Wildlife photo-tours and I just thought I’d post a few shots from last week’s session. In the most part the weather was OK if not perfect and along with my co-guide Chris Gomersall, we kept everyone hard at it. Apologies to any of the group who have returned home suffering from an impoverished physical condition!

If you receive our monthly newsletter you’ll know that we’re presently looking into a refreshed range of tours for 2012 – both here in Scotland and to a few new locations such as Iceland, Netherlands and Lofotens (and it looks like we’ll be doing another Arctic Special to Svalbard in search of polar bears). All tours will be posted by the end of March – watch this space!


Managing the unmanageable?

Expectations that is. I’ve been around long enough to remember when a crested tit momentarily alighting on a branch was enough to justify a week-long investment in one of our photo-tours. In what seems like just a few short years, such a fleeting opportunity is no longer enough. In fact, it’s nowhere near enough. We live in an age where expectations have changed beyond recognition, and I hear lots of photographers and workshop providers – and I guess I include myself here – bemoaning the demands placed upon them to deliver fulfilling experiences to their paying guests. But you know, we only have ourselves to blame.

We flaunt our best images across the internet like designer labels and of course in these days of instant communication they get seen. And once seen the race is on to replicate. Any shot of a sea eagle ten years ago would have been a major scoop, but now most – in spite of their technical brilliance – are met with apathy. So those photographers who have paraded their stunning images of sea eagles, red kites and grey seals – they’re to blame for cranking up expectations. And I’m one of them.

But something else has changed, something a tad more worrying in my book. Unrealistic expectations can easily be fuelled by shortcomings in subject knowledge. I’ve been asked more than once by tour guests about photographing ospreys in February (they spend the winter in West Africa), and many other occasions where a lack of understanding of the difficulties in photographing wildlife in northern Europe has lead to disappointment as expectations inevitably go unfulfilled. So perhaps in addition to putting people in front of wildlife subjects as best we can; in addition to talking them through the technical and aesthetic approach to wildlife photography, we should be working harder to provide a broader knowledge base which will create a new generation of not only top-notch photographers but of top-notch nature advocates. To me the two things are inseparable but I may well be in the minority.


Change in the water?

We don’t do change very well: as a species I mean. Our manicured, orderly landscape bears witness to that, with any hint of ‘wilding’ touching a raw rural nerve and challenging our control of a landscape that was historically perceived to be for the exclusive use of one species only: us.

And so the beaver, an ostensibly innocuous water rat, has found its way into the news; not necessarily as an agent of ecological change but as a carrier of cultural change. The beavers of Knapdale in Argyll, although not universally welcomed, have at least arrived through ‘official channels’, those prescribed by European legislation. The beavers presently running amok in the Tay catchment however, are seemingly escapees of unknown origin and questionable genetics. They are not official beavers welcomed by an official policy by well…officials. Predictably therefore a divisive dispute is raging over whether the unofficial beavers should be left alone or rounded up and popped into captivity.

I have to say I’ve read numerous reports and find it difficult to disagree with either view. Scottish Natural Heritage, although often accused of a lack of flexibility, have their hands tied both by legislation and by strategic obligations. They have ruled that the beavers must be captured. Equally, the growing fan base for the itinerant beavers also offer valid arguments in terms of animal welfare and opportunities for ecological research. It’s a tricky one for sure.

What is perhaps predictable is that this won’t be the last dilemma of its kind. As the potential for the spread of non-native species increases (not that I’m suggesting the Tay beavers come under this category), against a backdrop of growing concern for the functionality of our ecosystems, and perhaps, the tendency towards societal extremes at the expense of pragmatism, deciding which species live where and to whose benefit, will become more and more difficult.

Managing change – brought about by beavers or otherwise – has never been easy and therein lies the social science of conflict resolution. There are people who study this stuff, they’ve become experts in it. They’re not conservationists, foresters, farmers or ecologists and that’s their strength. They know little of beavers but change isn’t about beavers, it’s about people. And resolving conflict relies on knowing about people and the ability to effectively communicate with them. I can’t help thinking that somewhere amongst all the talk of beaver legislation, ecology and welfare, there’s a role for a professional communicator, a manager of change, a resolver of conflict, a mediator – call it what you will.

It happens to be beavers in the Tay just now, but red deer, seals and pine martens, they’re all symbols of our changing relationship with nature. Perhaps that change needs some innovative management?

Is it a good time to bring up wolves?