Know what you want.

Picture the scene. The forecast for the morning is perfect and I have three or four  locations that I really want to nail this month – all in the same conditions. Which do I go for? What will work best? Location A or location B? For me these are the ingredients for a restless night riddled with anxiety. It’s the fear of failure you see; it’s a disease and I’ve been suffering from it for years.

In my mind, time has become so precious that every photographic foray must count; I cannot invest time out of the office without a productive return. This leads to a self-inflicted pressure that not only deprives me of sleep, but poisons what little creativity I can muster at five in the morning. Moreover, it lessens the enjoyment of the photographic experience – and that’s REALLY serious.

So the day dawns, I’m out of bed and turning on the car’s engine. But where am I heading – location A or B (and even C is starting to wager in with a good case)? Know what you want. Know what you want. I say it to myself over and over. I’m actually saying it out loud. Know what you want and stick with it. If you fail, look upon it as valuable research which will help your next attempt. I stick with location A and it pays off.

The fear of failure is treatable. I’m not completely cured but I’m starting to enjoy the rehabilitation process.


Smooth chin syndrome.

Colleague Niall Benvie made me chuckle with his ‘Tall Poppy Syndrome’ blog post recently. Once you get to grips with Niall’s skewed thinking (and I’m not sure I ever will), this particular post is a satirical poke at the Scottish psyche and its unwillingness to tolerate anyone who gets ‘too big for their boots’ or advocates innovative thinking.

Niall is Scottish by birth and can say such things without fear of a dawn raid from the Political Correctness Police. I was born south of the border and would suggest that such a trait is not confined to native Scots. Conservatism is a British thing, something we’re comfortable with. Innovation makes us nervous. Innovators are mavericks intent on upsetting the status quo; hellbent on making a name for themselves; obvious exploiters and out for their own ends. Like the over-ambitious poppy, they need trimming back.

Now, you might detect a raw nerve here and yes, hands up, I’m a bit pissed off. Why? Well because I’ve met many people (from within the conservation community) who don’t like tall poppies. They rub their chin long and hard and shake their heads. “It can’t be done.” “It’s not possible.””It’ll never work.” These chin-rubbers are often at the forefront of conservation policy making and in my humble view, forget one thing: one thing that was highlighted in a superb report called Branding Biodiversity. That is that for the vast majority of people in this country, nature conservation is a very long way down their priority list and if you want to address that, you need to tap into their value system. “People aren’t rational, they’re emotional” says the report. Quite so.

For my money then, anyone who puts their head above the parapet, tries something different, seeks to touch people on an emotional level, strives to be a tall poppy – they deserve encouragement, investment. They’re not mavericks, they’re heroes. We can sit and rub our chins as much as we like but in the meantime, we’re failing as a society to protect our most valuable asset.


Creative therapy

It was a long, hot day with too much driving and too many meeting deadlines. At the end of it, I was not just tired, but weary. And I still had to muster some mental energy to take some pictures. Arriving on the coast, the prospects looked OK – not brilliant but OK. I half-heartedly checked out a few viewpoints but nothing really set me alight if I’m honest. But I was on site and a job needed doing.

As the sounds and smells of the sea permeated my disenchanted mood, I started to lighten up. After 20 minutes of standing alone on a windswept headland, I felt more alive than I had done all day.  And as the sun dipped towards the horizon, painting the mudflats in  delicate pastel shades, the troubles of the day were long forgotten. Throw in a 10-stop ND filter to soften the image and I was verging on euphoria.

Creativity in the outdoors: the most effective tonic for life. Without charge.


The values of hooked bills.

Many of you will know of Roy Dennis, a man who has spent most of his life working with raptors. I saw him yesterday and he was telling me of his latest exploits satellite tracking peregrines, eagles and ospreys. He was also updating me on the hugely controversial problem of persistent raptor persecution in some parts of the Highlands. We agreed – and have done before – that the root of the issue is cultural rather than economic.

So is the glass half-full or half-empty? Over the years I’ve met lots of ‘half-empty’ types, claiming persecution will never stop, and I concede that it’s a societal problem that shows no sign of disappearing anytime soon. That said, there was a time when drink-driving was acceptable; ditto racism; ditto most ‘isms’, and, if we go back far enough, ditto slavery. It’s all to do with values, and values change slowly, especially those that are as entrenched as killing birds of prey.

So in spite of Roy’s (and many others) concerns, my glass is definitely half-full. With one caveat: legislation might provide a framework for dealing with those that are caught committing wildlife crimes, but it’s a crude tool for changing cultural values.


Penrith and Edinburgh talks confirmed.

We’ve got 2 new dates for the New Frontiers talk, so if you fancy listening to me prattling on about nature photography, travel, people, purpose and life in general, do pop along and say hello. If you don’t like the sound of any of that, you can just watch the pictures.

April 9th: Rheged Centre, Penrith, Cumbria.(1945hrs). Book here

This event is being held in conjunction with the Wildlife Photographer of the Year exhibition.

April 15th: Reid Concert Hall, Bristol Square, Edinburgh.(1900hrs). Book here


CALEDONIA on way…finally.

It’s been a bit of a haul this one! From an idea that started way back when, we’ve had false starts, funding letdowns and above all, just lots of other time-consuming things going on. But we’re there now and it’s shaping up to be a really nice book (and we’re planning a few side products too!).

Written by colleague Niall Benvie and illustrated by yours truly, CALEDONIA is an unashamed emotional plea for a fresh and more ambitious outlook towards forest restoration. That doesn’t mean that Scotland should be covered in trees tomorrow; it simply means we should perhaps take a renewed look at what the landscape can offer us against a backdrop of increasing biological uncertainty.

CALEDONIA will retail at £20 and will be available only from the NORTHSHOTS website (from June 23rd). Advance orders are being taken now (just e-mail Amanda). Corporate customers (ordering a minimum of 10 copies) can buy the book for just £12-95 per copy. Branded books (with your logo on front cover) are available at the same price (min. order 100 units) but must be ordered before April 30 2011.

To get a feel for what CALEDONIA will look like, download our promo-flyer here.


…a little bit gained.

Undeterred from my abortive maiden voyage across Loch Insh (actually I was very much deterred but that would detract from the story), I set off again with the whooper swans in my crosshairs. In the evening it was flat calm with some subtle sunset reflections; in the morning it wasn’t!

Truth be told, I love whooper swans (I don’t normally like to admit a preference for any species) and it has always been a dream of mine to photograph them in both their wintering grounds and up in Iceland where these particular birds breed. I’d actually pencilled it in to my 2014 diary – how organised is that? I can do 4 years hence, I just can’t do next week. I had envisaged a rather splendid book and an equally splendid exhibition don’t you know. Imagine my horror then when a splendid Italian photographer – Stefano Unterthiner – and his splendid wife, last year beat me to the splendid idea. And what’s more, did a splendid job! You can order Stefano’s splendid book at www.stefanounterthiner.com.

I do know however that Stefano doesn’t own a hide nearly as splendid as mine. And even if he did, it wouldn’t be as splendidly waterlogged.


Nothing ventured…

Ballhead mount: check. Chest waders: check. Hide frame: check. Hide cover: check. Waterproof: check. Camera: check. Capability to carry all of aforementioned: s**t!

And so it was I staggered through the wood yesterday in knee-deep snow, laden with…well, about half of everything I own. It was snowing and by god I was going to get some pictures: Pictures of whooper swans in a blizzard, oh yes. But there are blizzards and blizzards and in some blizzards it’s so blizzardous you can’t actually see your subject (which I always find helpful). Good conditions to set off in a floating hide. Not.

After 30 minutes and several waves having engulfed the camera, I conceded my ambition had exceeded what was realistic. If it wasn’t for the fact that the water was cold and I therefore knew its source was from the waterfall now cascading over my waders, I might have been forgiven for suspecting premature incontinence. Abandon ship and head for port before a Mayday was necessary. To be fair I had got close to the swans (not easy in this part of the world) but it was nigh on impossible to conquer the force 9 gale sweeping across the ocean that is Loch Insh. OK more of a stiff breeze but still damned difficult.

Undeterred I wandered the forest in my very handsome waders looking like some Arctic Andy Pandy still hellbent on getting some snowy images before the onset of spring. It’s fair to say that if you don’t like monochromatic pictures, the Cairngorms was not the place for you yesterday and you probably shouldn’t read on. But I do and so I persevered in my squelchy pants (I did succumb to ditching the waders) and held out long enough to grab a few PLNs (Pleasant Little Numbers).

The rewards nowhere near justified the effort but the pain of sitting at home and wondering ‘what if…’ would have been much more excrutiating. And besides, another life lesson had been learned – I’ll know better next time. If you believe that…


Acceptable manipulation.

This is one that rolls on and on. And on. What is an acceptable degree of image manipulation? Well just to clarify, I’m not entirely sure.

Just this week I’ve been included in a circular e-mail about the ‘manipulation’ scandal and how one photographer in particular, is ‘duping’ both editors and readers of a well known Dutch magazine, and is gaining an ‘unfair’ commercial advantage. I’ve also been running a workshop during which one guest showed a number of images that he’d produced using the controversial ‘HDR’ technique. Whilst undoubtedly striking, some of them had an ‘unreal’ appearance. So what is a step too far?

Well that depends on context. If you view nature photography as a means of biological recording, then accuracy in content and aesthetics are paramount. If however, your perspective is more creative, then the criteria is much broader and arguably, anything goes.

Perhaps the important word here is integrity. Rather than dwelling on what’s right or wrong, perhaps we should resist trying to mislead our audience, be up front with how our images are produced and let consumer taste run its course.

For the record, the image below of the Summer Isles at sunset has had the following treatment:

1. A 10 stop ND filter to slow shutter speed and blur water.

2. A reduction in colour temperature.

3. A slight deepening of the blacks to increase definition.

Is it ‘straight’? Probably not. Is it ‘acceptable’?


Sentiment or Sense?

Now let’s get things straight here: I don’t wear sandals (especially those weird hemp things); I might go unshaven every now and then but that hardly qualifies me as a beardie, and I’m not fussed about nut cutlets if I’m honest. I respect freedom of choice and I acknowledge that as a species, as well as a society, we are generally omnivorous with most people eating a fair amount of meat – I generally don’t (apart from venison sausage which is great with brown sauce) but that’s because my wife does our cooking and she doesn’t like it.

But if we are going to eat meat, don’t you think it’s a good idea to know where it comes from, what it’s eaten and how it’s been raised? I have to say I do. Informed choice is one thing, ignorance, or worse still, indifference, is something altogether separate.

Environment Films have just produced a short documentary called Farm to Fork. You should watch it;  your kids should watch it; we all should watch it. It won’t upset you (in case you’re worried) but it might enlighten you. I’m not a huge fan of sentimentality but this is more about just common sense and decency.

http://www.environmentfilms.org/EF/fftf.html