In 2019 I felt the need for a new challenge. A recent trip to Mull had introduced me to the white tailed eagle – a truly magnificent bird, about the size of a barn door – and I’d come away enthused by my experience. I’d always enjoyed casually watching birds at the local park, but without ever really taking it seriously. Putting those elements together, and being primarily a photographer during my limited leisure time, I bought a 75-300mm lens for my Olympus camera and set out to learn a new skill.
Early outings were predictably basic. Goosander at my local park. Robins and coal tits at the botanic gardens. Redshanks at Aberlady nature reserve.
The turning point came, ironically, during lockdown. Normally when I see people standing by the side of the pavement with their clipboards, poised to ask me my views, I shake my head and walk vigorously past. But walking home from Musselburgh lagoons one day, after an enjoyable session photographing the birdlife, a person with a clipboard, standing incongruously by a footpath through the lagoons, piqued my interest and I stopped to speak with him.
He was doing a survey, as it turned out, about people’s use of the lagoons in their leisure time. Musselburgh lagoons, bizarrely, are not a nature reserve. There are scrapes there, well maintained by East Lothian Council for use by the birdlife. It’s a familiar spot for birdwatchers – I’ve seen many rarities there – and people treat it as a special place for wildlife. But it’s also well used by dog walkers and there are multiple leisure activities that take place there – a BMX track, a boating lake, and even a horse racing track. It is, in short, a multi-use location that adds hugely to the amenities of the area. But it was also, in 2020, in danger of going seriously downhill.
Cockenzie power station, a few miles down the road, was one of Britain’s last coal-fired power stations. It was also the reason why Musselburgh lagoons existed. The lagoons were built on reclaimed land, formed by decades of waste from the power station being dumped and gradually forming new land which was then taken over by nature.
Now though, with the closure of the power station, the land was being handed over to the council who needed to find a use for it. Hence the person with the clipboard asking questions about how I used the lagoons, whether it benefited my mental and physical health, and what I thought should happen there. As I answered the questions, I found myself reflecting on my motivations for being there, and I gradually realised something very important.
I love photography. To this day, it remains my principle pastime. But I realised that when I was in nature, photographing wildlife, the camera often got in the way. I found myself using the camera as though it was a pair of digital binoculars, enjoying the experience of watching bird behaviours more than the experience of photographing them.
I didn’t modify my behaviour immediately, but over the following months I found myself going out more often with my binoculars, and less often with my camera. I joined a birdwatching group to enjoy the social aspect of birdwatching. And I leaned into the mindfulness of just enjoying spending time in nature.
A couple of years later, East Lothian Council opened a new set of bird hides at the lagoons. Last time I was there, I enjoyed watching a marsh sandpiper among the much more familiar lapwings, oystercatchers, and curlews. I hope my survey answers helped, in some small way, to persuade the council that the money invested was well spent.
My Camera Stories 