Top 3 mind-blowing, gut-wrenching, mouth-watering 2012 moments!

Posted on by Peter Cairns10 Comments on Top 3 mind-blowing, gut-wrenching, mouth-watering 2012 moments!

Well what a year! It’s easy to say that at the end of every year but 2012 really has been one to remember – not all for the best of reasons. So what have been the good bits? I mean the REALLY good bits? That’s tricky but if pushed, I can think of three very special moments that are etched on my mind for always. They weren’t necessarily planned or indeed expected; the resultant images are nothing more than pleasing, but for different reasons, the experiences remain vivid in my mind.

In 3rd place…

At midnight our work was done and although the Icelandic sun never sets at this time of year, we felt we’d had the best of it and headed back to our hotel. Our group were tired and so was my co-guide, Mark Hamblin, and I. But then the most surreal mist rolled in off the sea and my mind started racing. Mark and I have worked with each other often enough to know pretty much what the other is thinking so by the time we reached base camp, we knew we were heading out again. Along with the hardy few we looked for a subject to bring the scene to life. Given the choice I’d have gone for a red-throated diver and ten minutes later, that’s exactly what we’d found.

At 2.30am I was lying beside this small mist-enshrouded lake in the shadow of an ice-capped mountain, the silence broken only by the mournful call of this most enigmatic of all birds. And the sound of a handful of shutter buttons!

Red-throated diver, Iceland

In 2nd place…

In all honesty I should have some of the best osprey shots ever taken. Not only do I live in the bird’s UK stronghold, I have a pair nesting just a stone’s throw from home. I could make excuses about the difficult position of the nest, but that’s just what they’d be – excuses.

This year I took a slightly different approach (more of that in a future blog) and it’s very much a work in progress. Meantime, one afternoon from the comfort (read discomfort) of my hide, I was confronted by a brief and violent downpour, which coincided with the male osprey landing right in front of my hide with a fish. It was a heart-stopping moment as any encounter with this conservation icon always is. A few minutes later however, my heart was pounding for a different reason. The osprey nest sits next to the River Feshie, one of the fastest spate rivers in Europe. My hide sits on a shallow shingle spit in the river bed and I sit on a flimsy stool inside the flimsy hide. It’s all a bit flimsy if truth be told but everything works fine…as long as it doesn’t rain.

Osprey male eating fish in torrential rain, Glen Feshie, Cairngorms National Scotland, Scotland

And the top 2012 moment…

The polar bear had been feeding on a seal long before we spotted him in the distance. By the time we arrived on the scene, he was satiated and was intent on a long snooze. It was 4 in the morning and most of our small group were asleep in their cabins. Undeterred we decided a low-level shot from the zodiac might be worth pursuing and after several minutes of banging on doors, we had a bleary-eyed group of less-than-eager photographers assembled on deck.

Approaching the slumbering bear at a painfully slow speed we edged up to the ice floe and were initially met with nothing more than a dismissive glance. But bears being bears, this one wanted to check us out. He raised his lumbering head, then his lumbering body and started lumbering – straight towards us. He had that swagger of a top predator and all of a sudden we felt like trespassers, like intruders, like vulnerable intruders.

As he stood eye-level, too big to frame with my 500mm lens, you could power half of London with the electricity in that zodiac. As one of our guests remarked afterwards: “That was a thoroughly pleasing encounter.” (or unpublishable words to that effect)

Polar Bear in snow, Svalbard

Here’s wishing everyone more life-affirming experiences in the natural world during 2013. My thanks to friends, colleagues, guests and associates for not only the special moments above, but many more besides.

The Burden of Bosque.

Posted on by Peter Cairns12 Comments on The Burden of Bosque.

There’s no doubt about it, I think too much. I burden myself with ethical dilemmas and over-analyse everything; it can’t be healthy and if I’m honest, it’s exhausting! Carefree colleague and friend Danny Green tells me not to look beyond next week and even advises against this blog becoming a philosophical platform, but I’m not built that way; I ponder and muse and often conclude that I’m trying to make sense of a world that makes little sense.

As much as anything it might be to do with middle-age (the point in life when you start looking back instead of forward) and consideration of your place in the world. I don’t think I’m alone in this respect. Picking up this month’s edition of Outdoor Photography, I see Niall Benvie looking back on career highlights; I read with interest Mark Sisson‘s route into nature photography and his inevitable reliance on tours and workshops, and I read Elliot Neep‘s well-written analysis of the impact of over-eager photo tourists in Africa. These are all signs of changing times and changing perspectives. Nothing is as certain as change.

Against this backdrop, I found myself last week in Bosque del Apache in New Mexico, a major wintering ground for snow geese and sandhill cranes, and one of the most heavily-visited wildlife photography locations in the world. I knew before the trip that I was unlikely to produce anything new and I didn’t. I knew that I had little commercial use for the images and I haven’t. But I also knew that knocking on the door of 50, this was something I wanted to see (and hear and smell) and so reason, logic and commercial justification were cast aside and off I went.

I joined a small group of photographers and we took lots of images. We ate New Mexico out of house and home and we laughed and joked. We saw lots of wildlife and some of the most spectacular sunsets I’ve witnessed anywhere. I didn’t analyse things too much (I’m lying now) and although I can’t say that I ‘connected’ with Bosque in the same way that I ‘connect’ with places closer to home, it was a great week and in many ways, took me back to why I first picked up a camera – not to over-calculate my every waking minute, but to have fun.

We are allowed a bit of fun aren’t we? I’ll have to think about that.

The tour was organised by Natures Images and my thanks to them and their guests for good photography and good company.

Edit: A gallery of images from Bosque can now be viewed here.

A.M.A.N.D.A. Dec’12

Posted on by Peter Cairns3 Comments on A.M.A.N.D.A. Dec’12

Well it’s not Christmas just yet and it’s not my birthday, but unexpectedly I’ve just received two very different pressies from very different people and probably, for very different reasons.

Some of you will know of (and some have met) our new family of lawn-mowing Highland Cows. They are five mischievous yearlings of which Boris, the de-horned steer, is by far the cheekiest. We’ve still got our old dears, Molly and Maisy, but they know the deal here and refuse to get caught up in the antics of the youngsters – they stick together as they always have done, sneering at the whippersnappers from afar. The ‘Famous Five’ however, are up for a bit of adventure and led by Boris, have found their way just about everywhere. This is not how Pete assured me it would be and his attempts to keep them where they should be have failed miserably – not a problem as long as he gets them back there.

Last week he set off on an adventure of his own on a day that coincided with the first heavy snows of the winter. Within 24hours Boris and the crew were staring at me through the kitchen window – our garden was obviously the place to be. Never mind ‘Famous Five’ – at that moment they were the F***** Five!! I tried all the tricks that Pete left me with but they weren’t for budging. Enter George our neighbourly farmer!

George listened and George nodded and George told me they needed to know who was boss. I pointed out that although they were only half-grown, they were strong and were equipped with a pair of 18-inch daggers on each side of their heads. George listened and George laughed and George left. Next morning Boris was introducing his girlfriends to the savoury delights of our vegetable patch.

I was just considering how I could get hold of a rifle when George showed up with a personalized hazel crook, complete with a red ribbon. Slightly overcome with such a kind gesture, I took it outside and introduced Boris’ legs to my new weapon. Problem solved and George is my hero!

Meanwhile across the Pond, Pete was lording it taking photos of snow geese (whatever turns you on) and despite my bovine woes and threats of leaving him, leaving the house and most of all, leaving the cows, he seemed slightly less than sympathetic (at which point I’d thought of another use for my newly-acquired crook). Imagine then my surprise when he returned from his endeavours complete with gift-wrapped Jimmy Choo perfume. This is not a major event in most relationships but in 30 years, it’s never happened before. He handed it over awkwardly but it’s the thought that counts (not that he would understand that).

And so, equipped with my new crook I can be a proper farmer and Boris will have to watch his step. With my new perfume, I can occasionally be a proper woman and Pete will have to watch out too!

Yeah right – in his dreams!!

I hope everyone has a great Christmas and a wonderful 2013.

Empty diaries!

Posted on by Peter Cairns11 Comments on Empty diaries!

Many thanks for the valuable feedback on photo books – it helps to focus the mind when respected colleagues offer an informed view. So here’s another one and again, I have to concede this is another ‘fishing trip’ for different perspectives (as I seem to have lost mine completely!)

Thank to geography as much as anything, I’ve never been a regular speaker on the camera club or natural history group circuit. Most places are just a long way from where I live. But I know plenty of photographers who ‘speak’ regularly and seemingly at least, are happy with whatever fee they can negotiate. My experience is that most smaller clubs simply cannot afford to pay what I would consider to be an appropriate fee. So what is an ‘appropriate’ fee for a speaking commission?

Let’s assume the talk has to be assembled – or at least tailored and tweaked from a previous presentation. That’s one day taken care of. It has to be rehearsed or at least test-run – another half day. In my case almost everywhere involves a decent drive and by the time travel and delivery is factored in, that’s another day gone. So we’re looking at two days minimum already. Projector (£2,000), laptop (£1200), speaker system (£800) and for me, external AV help (thanks John) – these all have to be accounted for too. And this doesn’t even touch on the years of investment gathering the images/stories which the audience wants to see and hear.

All of a sudden the £75, or £100, or arguably even £500 that the average ‘club’ is able to offer, just doesn’t stack up. Like most photographers, I do some talks for free. They might be good causes, organisations I support or one-off events where, for whatever reason, you want to show your images (we’re all show-offs at heart). Increasingly however, I’m struggling to justify the time against the fee. I’m also increasingly annoyed with myself for ‘apologising’ for quoting a figure which I’ve come to know will shock the enquirer; I feel somehow that I should offer a discount, or at the very least, an explanation. Why?

Photographers, like most in the wider field of ‘wildlife’ or conservation, are under-valued – always have been. That’s something that I accept to a degree, but I don’t accept that my time (along with a decent amount of experience) is any less valuable simply because I choose work that others might consider to be simply ‘fun’.

So back to the question: how much should we charge? To be honest I’m not entirely sure but for what it’s worth, here’s what I do.

My standard fee is £650 + vat + travel. I reduce that to £350 ++ for ‘charities’ and/or good causes and if I’m pushed (which invariably I am), I’ll agree to £250++. I have little idea of how this compares with others (I hope you’ll tell me) but irrespective of how accomplished a speaker and/or photographer you are, the time investment alone makes this a good deal by anyone’s standards.

So is my diary full of speaking engagements? Well no, to be frank. But it’s not empty either and that suits me fine. Some organisations – mainly outwith the traditional ‘conservation’ sector – are happy to pay a realistic fee and where that is the case, I’m delighted to take the booking. I recently delivered a talk and was offered a ‘standard’ fee of £1500. For me that was very much the exception but proves nevertheless, that an audience exists and is willing to pay realistically. It really isn’t about the money; it’s about being valued and there’s a BIG difference.

Against the backdrop of falling sales across almost all sectors in this business, my view is that we shouldn’t buckle on this front. There are some fantastic speakers, images and stories out there just waiting to be told. Anyone who attended Wildphotos recently will I’m sure, attest to that. I’m not suggesting a militant uprising by the hard-line mavericks of our small industry, but I am suggesting that if we continue to under-value ourselves, we can’t blame our potential customers for doing the same.

Empty coffee tables

Posted on by Peter Cairns16 Comments on Empty coffee tables

I’ve got a mate who works for a well-known producer of ‘coffee pods’, sealed units of powdered DIY cappuccino, latte, mocha and myriad others which cover a cocktail of coffee, milk and water. You can buy pods in all manner of sizes – venti, grande and tallgrandewithextragrande – small, medium and large to you and me. According to my mate, sales of ‘pods’ are going through the roof along with the pretentiously branded machines that gurgle and splutter out the finished product (presently appearing on our TV screens every 30 seconds or so, such is the anticipated yuletide demand). The world has apparently gone mad for over-priced, over-hyped, over-my-dead-body coffee products.

Don’t get me wrong; I like a cappuccino as much as the next man. There’s nothing better than sitting down with a frothy concoction and drooling over a lavish coffee-table photo book. It seems however that these days are numbered. It seems that only two of the trio of coffee, coffee table and coffee table book have a future.

Back in the day (I’m never quite sure when ‘the day’ actually was) the Holy Grail for most nature photographers was to produce a book. I was the same. It was a symbol that somehow you’d ‘arrived’, that you were a ‘proper’ photographer; you could even be referred to as an ‘author’. It was never a financial thing; it was a ‘feelgood’ thing and if you could at least cover your costs, it was worth doing. Not any more.

I’ve reluctantly come to the conclusion – fuelled by dwindling sales, dwindling interest, dwindling employment across the publishing sector and more significantly, the stack-em-high, sell-em-cheap tactics of the likes of Amazon – that the coffee table photography book is dead. Or is at least gasping its last breath. Do you know that Amazon can sell my latest (co-authored) book (including postage and packing) cheaper than I as one of the authors, can buy it for? I’m the greengrocer on the High St. watching Tesco shut me down. The coffee table book was once a badge of honour for the author, something to be savoured by the reader. Now like most things, it’s a cheap, disposable commodity. The photographic High St. is becoming full of empty coffee tables.

And my point? Well like the High St. greengrocer or the miners under Thatcher, we can whinge and whine about unwelcome change, but rarely are our voices heard. No, we must buckle down and reinvent ourselves because our voices need to be heard; we must fill the gap on the coffee table with something different. Sad it may be, but nothing stays the same forever and change is very much the thing in photography just now. And here’s the crucial point: books are just stories. They feel nice, they smell nice, they are nice but they’re just stories. Us photographers mustn’t get disillusioned, we must continue to invent and then tell new stories. Not in a £25 book perhaps, but through different platforms. We need to keep the coffee tables of tomorrow full of inspiring, insightful and compelling stories about nature.

A.M.A.N.D.A. Nov’12

Posted on by Peter Cairns8 Comments on A.M.A.N.D.A. Nov’12

I recently scratched a lifelong itch: to visit Yellowstone National Park in the American west. Ever since Yogi first appeared on my TV, it’s been high on my “must do” list. And contrary to some itches that take years to scratch, it lived up to expectations and then some. I’m not going to bore you with endless holiday tales – this is after all a photography blog and I am after all, a photographer (of sorts).

I’m told I was an hour late for this shot – that’s because I was in bed of course!

A few days into our holiday I decided I really should improve my picture taking. Announcing that I would embark on some formal tuition once back home, Pete nearly choked on his maple syrup pancakes and immediately offered a (money-saving) crash course. He started talking about aperture and something to do with light but in all honesty, I had no idea what he was prattling on about and after 5 minutes the lesson (along with my photographic career), came to an abrupt end.

In spite of that I think I produced some first-rate pictures. Perhaps not fine art but decent enough for a beginner. During an evening critique session Pete scrolled through my portfolio wearing an expressionless face (not what I’m used to). After several silent minutes he announced that the only decent shot was of a pair of discarded knickers we found on the front steps of Old Faithful Inn. I think that says more about him than the standard of my photography. I would add by the way, that the knickers in question didn’t belong to me!

A moose kissing a statue of the largest member of the deer family (caption by Peter Cairns)

Kevin Costner he ain’t!!

All’s well that ends well!

Ultimate Autumn Gold Photo Tour 2012

Posted on by Peter Cairns2 Comments on Ultimate Autumn Gold Photo Tour 2012

My feet are wet (still), my back is killing me but my heart is full. Now don’t worry, I’m not about to embark on some sort of deep-rooted emotional outpouring (as if) but having just wrapped up our Ultimate Autumn Gold tour – our last of the year – I’m feeling quite…well…if not happy, at least content (I’m told by one of our guests that men are only ever ‘happy’ in short bursts – she may be right).

The 2012 Cairngorms colours were – still are – splendid and although the light could have been kinder, we were given moments of pure magic alongside the inevitable landscape photographer’s curse of self pity when things are “just not quite right.” They rarely are and we’re rarely happy; it’s just the way it is.

Skye was predictably wet (does anyone have an answer to keeping filters dry in driving rain?) but as ever, with hard work and a little imagination, the island delivered. One of my favourite photography locations in Scotland is a remote(ish) beach on Skye’s west coast and if it wasn’t for the rain, I’d probably still be there. Another favourite, Elgol, was full of mood and as each year passes, increasingly full of photographers, which is no bad thing in my book.

We dropped in on Glen Affric along with a seemingly obligatory stop at Ffordes camera shop for coffee and in the case of one guest, an ornamental ceramic cockerel (a vital photographic tool).

So back to happiness…or rather contentedness. There’s something special in sharing photographic experiences with like-minded people. I always say this so forgive the repetition, but we are truly fortunate in the chemistry, dynamics, profile, mix – call it what you will – of our groups. Ultimate Autumn Gold 2012 was no exception. We’re deadly serious about our photography – I hope that goes without saying – but outwith time in the field, there’s nothing wrong with having great fun. And we did lots of that on this tour. It’s important.

These images are not prize-winners but I hope you enjoy them nevertheless. Amidst the wind, the rain and the cold I enjoyed taking them because there’s only one thing better than being in wild places and that’s being in wild places with people who share a sense of the privilege of…well, life really. A sense of humour helps too.

Another year of photo tours draws to a close and with many happy – yes happy – memories in the bank, my thanks on this particular trip go to co-guide Mark Hamblin and (in no particular order) to Margaret (and the pot cockerel), Robyn, Jasmine (check out her cool fashion sense below), Marie, Steve, Kevin, Roger, Mike, Bob, Don, (that) Duncan and Jan for your excellent company. And do remember, men CAN whisk eggs.

If you’d like to join us next year for more photography and frolics in the autumnal Scottish Highlands, our expanded 2013 tour can be booked here

Despite appearances I can testify to the sanity of this strange creature.

Bears, beavers and bugger it – the camera is coming!

Posted on by Peter Cairns6 Comments on Bears, beavers and bugger it – the camera is coming!

What is a holiday? A chance to do what you like doing? Yes, exactly. And I like taking photos which means I take my camera on holiday. No ifs, no buts and no amount of protestation from my good wife.

And so it was I agreed to a holiday in Yellowstone. I say “agreed”, it’s hardly a hardship to spend time in one of the most exciting places on earth. If you’ve never been to this part of the world, it is above all else, exciting. The scenery is gobsmacking, the wildlife abundant but that’s not the attraction for me: Yellowstone is damned exciting. It’s exciting because it’s effectively a volcano spewing and spluttering its intentions ceaselessly; it’s exciting because it was America’s first National Park signalling a new era in land custodianship; it’s exciting because it now attracts 3 million visitors a year; it’s exciting because with the return of wolves in 1995, it is claimed to be one of the last true wilderness areas of the northern Hemisphere. Now, we could debate the definition of ‘wilderness’ all day but anywhere that creeps close to it (especially a place with wild wolves) that also accommodates 3 million people, is VERY exciting to me.

Ian taking some time out…with a friend.

Swan Lake at dawn

Amanda my wife, and our close friends Eileen and Ian, had never been to Yellowstone whereas I had the knowledge built up over many visits with tour groups. This inevitably resulted in me becoming the (unpaid) tour guide, a role that was remunerated only through the occasional opportunity to take pictures – I did less than 1gb in two weeks so please don’t give me a hard time!

Initially based in Mammoth, we took in the famous Lamar Valley where one early start rewarded us with roadside wolf howling, the like of which I’d never experienced. Thick forest prevented a view but we knew…we felt…those wolves were close. From West Yellowstone we saw grizzly and cubs, black bear up close (a bit too close for Eileen), beaver and river otters. One morning we witnessed a young wolf swimming the Yellowstone River and bumped into the same animal close to the road the following day. Moving south we immersed ourselves in the rustic delights of Old Faithful Inn for two nights before leaving Yellowstone for Grand Teton where moose were abundant but the fall colour was regrettably past its best.

These River Otters can really shift – I just managed to grab this shot as a family swam upstream one evening at sunset.

Bison herd at Firehole River

It’s been several years since my last visit to Yellowstone and there was a noticeable change in the profile of visitors with many more nationalities represented –  surely a sign of emerging economic wealth and perhaps in tandem with an increasingly urbanised lifestyle, a latent yearning to flirt with nature? I’m not sure, but it seems that the wilderness is no longer the preserve of wealthy Westerners and although I have concerns about the impact of ever-growing visitor numbers, that is surely no bad thing?

Burnt Lodgepoles at dusk.

Our final day was spent on horseback high above Jackson Hole and in full view of the National Elk Refuge, the controversial wintering grounds for beleaguered elk and not a million miles different from the practice of feeding red deer in Scotland – like I say, for anyone with an interest in the human-wildlife dynamic, this is an exciting place.

The Good, the Bad and the very, very Ugly.

If you scratch beneath the surface of the Yellowstone story – and it’s one helluva of a story – it will draw you in and sink its metaphorical teeth into your heart and mind. Over the years, this place has taught me more about wildness and how different people perceive and relate to that wildness, than anywhere else I’ve been.

The food is crap if you’re vegetarian; the French Vanilla cappuccinos are delicious but too sweet and the monster-sized trucks that pass as family cars get right up my nose (as do photographers that never reduce their tripods below head height) but if you can put up with these minor encumbrances, Yellowstone (and Grand Teton) is a delight.

Amanda after an early start and a lack of caffeine.

The mind-boggling lobby at Old Faithful Inn.

Against the context of the emerging ecological ethos of the Greater Yellowstone Ecosystem, you might be interested in these web sites.

Greater Yellowstone Coalition

Yellowstone to Yukon Initiative

A funny old week…

Posted on by Peter Cairns2 Comments on A funny old week…

It started with a 1000-mile round trip to deliver a presentation in Derby, the place I grew up in. The talk was attended by an old school teacher of mine and a smattering of friends and family huddled on the back row (there were others there too you understand!) Weird.

Tuesday brought about a meeting to secure the 2020VISION roadshow in The National Forest – this from discussions that have stretched over the best part of 2 years. Relief.

Wednesday was a relatively normal day in the office although we did buy 5 Highland Cows as conservation grazers. Daunting. I also met with a mate of mine who revealed insider knowledge about a rather exciting reintroduction project about to be unleashed. Intriguing. This was also the day I heard the news about the Manchester police women being shot. Shocking.

Thursday took me to a photographer friend’s for an update on various matters and contrary to the usual frivolous nature of our discussions, today was more sombre as a member of his family is very unwell.  On returning home I was greeted with the news that our old Highland pony (he’s not ours actually but he lives with us) was lame and would need to be put to sleep. Sad and Sobering.

An early call yesterday created a meeting with a local landowner about a potential commission documenting a massively ambitious restoration scheme in the Highlands. Inspiring.

As I sit here writing, Amanda is busying around getting stuff together for our holiday to Yellowstone. Bizarre.

So what’s all this got to do with a photographic blog? Well if truth be told, I’m feeling a bit emotional; high emotion has been the common denominator throughout this last week. The more I think about the state of the natural world and what can be done to right some of the wrongs, the more I become convinced that we don’t use our unique capacity for emotion creatively enough. I read a while ago that generally speaking, people’s relationship with nature isn’t rational or scientific; it’s emotional. And it’s true. You can peddle all the ecological science, all the socio-economic data, all the conservation buzzwords you like, but for most people, nature is something they ‘feel’. Great photography is something that makes people ‘feel’.

As a nation we’ve done a pretty good job this summer ‘feeling’ the Olympics and Paralympics and what high emotion reigned for those few weeks. But spectacular as they undoubtedly were, these are transient events, moments in time. If only we, as a society, could harness that Olympic energy, that high-octane emotion and mobilise it for nature. That would be something worth getting up on Monday morning for. And Tuesday. And Wednesday.

Fearna the osprey is on the move!

Posted on by Peter Cairns1 Comment on Fearna the osprey is on the move!

Just a quick post to let you know that Fearna, one of the female osprey chicks from our local nest (many readers will know of or have seen this nest) has been fitted with a satellite tracker and her movements can be followed here. As I write this, she’s found her way safely as far as Devon!

Thanks to Roy Dennis of the Highland Foundation for Wildlife for providing the tracker and the platform to watch Fearna’s maiden migration to Africa.

Good luck girl!