Calling roe for Outstandingly beautiful images and a bit of Digging for History!

Today saw the publication of a new document "So much more than the view..." that describes the great benefits we receive from our National Parks and Areas of Outstanding Natural Beauty. As I work in an AONB, live in it and do nearly all my photography in AONBs and National Parks in the UK and abroad, I will admit to being biased. I make no apology for having a distinct bias in favour of places that are beautiful, rich in wildlife, offer amazing levels of access to nature and where you can see, feel and smell some of the wildness that is becoming so rare in our world. I encourage you to have a look at it, it can be found here: http://www.landscapesforliferesources.org.uk/images/uploads/pdf/So_much_more_than_the_view.pdf

I was able to contribute three images to the publication: they can be found on page 17. One of them is the portrait of a roe kid that I took in 2008. It just shows that wildlife images that inspire feelings of nurturing, love and protection are enduringly popular. The story behind this image is of some interest.

I took this image while going round a farm with the landowner. I was demonstrating to her how roe deer can be called in by imitating the noises that females make when calling to their kids or calling for a mate during the rut. The two calls are similar, a very soft "feeep" that is often lost amidst the background noise of wind in leaves and birdsong. Moving along a field edge, I saw the tips of four ears poking up above the ripening wheat. I gave the call and it was immediately answered by this little buck kid. His sister stayed in the wheat, but this chap came out and walked up to us, standing while I took photos of him and approaching to within two metres. At that point, I started to talk to him and he eventually worked out that we were not his mother and walked back into the crop. Needless to say, the landowner was pretty bowled over by the experience.

Calling roe deer is not difficult, although it sounds like some sort of Grizzly Adams / Crocodile Dundee tall tale. If you would like to see it done and learn it for yourself, please get in touch and book a session.

And now for something completely different …

Here's a hole I made earlier:

As you can see, it is empty. It is 1m x 1m and about 1.5m deep. It took me all morning to dig. I dug it as one of the 25 test pits in the Digging for History event; which is one of the best bits of the fabulous Chalke Valley History Festival. We were digging on the site of a Medieval village at Fifield Bavant. This is a hamlet beside the River Ebble. It has a 12th Century church (the second smallest in England) and it was much busier in the Romano-British period. It remained busy through the Medieval period when it was known as Stowford.  Other people's holes had walls, arrow heads and pottery. I found some little bits of Greensand building stone and a butchered pig bone. Of course we all feigned a collaborative spirit, working for a greater good, "every hole is important" we were told. But these community activities are pretty competitive and I was NOT one of the winners! I have also found that "photograph of my hole" is in fact a genre of photography; but you must never, never, ever Google it. Really. Believe me.

Wiltshire, particularly South Wiltshire, is one of the most archaeologically rich areas on Earth. Not just because people have studied this area more than anywhere else (which is true, too), but because there is heaps and heaps of stuff from thousands of years of human endeavour lying in the chalky soil. So, to dig a hole in what looks like a good place and find absolutely Sweet Fanny Adams (as my dear old Dad would say) is quite an achievement. If you would like to see what came out of far more interesting holes than mine, come along to the Chalk Valley History Festival on the 27th and 28th June and talk to us in the Salisbury Museum tent.

See you there!