It’s been a sobering and difficult couple of weeks and as you will have noticed, I haven’t posted as much content lately.
Besides the logistics of having to move house, my current reliance on mobile internet and just trying to get my head around the seeming permanence of my daughter Izzy’s absence, I have found myself completely ignoring my cameras for large parts of the last couple of weeks. I just didn’t have it in me to be inspired to shoot, or to even think about shooting. It’s the first time that has happened in a while.
I rarely stop working or trying to move forward with whatever plans I currently have in life, but in the last fortnight, I have given myself permission just to be, not just to have a physical break from taking photos and working flat out, but to actually switch off from it all, to try and find myself, to do things for me for the first time in a decade or more.
Sofia is off at horse riding camp this week which has given me days where I am not tied to the school run which has allowed me a little more time.
We moved out of our family home last week. I still have a lot of Izzy’s clothes and things here so packing those up was incredibly difficult and emotional. Once the sheer logistics of moving had been handled and the house emptied, I went back on my own to the house, under the excuse of checking for last remaining items, but really just to try and process everything and say goodbye to the house which carries a lot of memories, of Izzy, of the sounds she made, of the little habits that were formed in that environment and of the pain that house represents.
I took one last look down towards Izzy’s playroom, one last photo of where her cot used to be, a single toy and unused baby changing mat was all that remained.
Closing the doors to that house felt like …. Well I don’t even have the words to describe it.
After those two shots, I needed some time to myself and that’s what I’ve been doing.
I have consciously left the cameras in the bag. I’ve gone out, without a camera, without any thought other than to just be, to spend time in nature and focus on myself, on giving myself space to try and recover.
When I first came to Crieff at the end of January this year, I saw the mountains above Crieff and set a goal in my mind to get fit enough to make them my playground, similar to my days on the Isle of Harris where I would run up mountain paths, walk for hours in the hills. That kind of fitness gives me freedom to explore, to not feel constrained by my own inability to summit the hills and explore them.
I’ve spent a lot of time walking this summer, local paths, woodlands , country estates but as I hit 45 last week, I wondered if I was even capable of getting back to that level of fitness. not running over mountains but at least being able to climb them.
This week was the week where I said, I’m going to try, even if it’s a struggle, I want access to the freedom that the mountains bring me. On Wednesday, I walked up my local glen, with Luna, our 5 month old puppy and cut up a track straight towards the mountains lining the east side of the loch.
I was pleasantly surprised by how I managed the incline. Luna and I made it to about half way up the mountain side when we ran out of time. I took a few photos on my phone but didn’t even bring my proper cameras with me. This trip wasn’t about photography, it was about pushing myself. 10 years of poor diet in the Philippines and a generally sedentary lifestyle isn’t the ideal base for hillwalking in Scotland, so small steps are needed.
Yesterday, I left Luna behind and encouraged by Wednesday’s efforts, I decided to attempt the largest of the mountains on the east side of the loch. It was one that way back in January, I had picked out as the hill to target. it’s only a Corbett, but as a first venture up in to the hills again after more than a decade away, I felt it was a challenging but not overwhelming summit to attempt.
This time, for the first time since taking those photos in our old house, I felt the urge to bring my camera. I strapped the z8 and 24-120mm f4 on to my backpack via a PD Capture Clip and set off down the loch-side path towards the old track that climbs steeply towards my intended target, Auchnafree. Thinking about it, an aptly named hill to try to regain my freedom on.
At the end of the loch, the sound of the Red deer rutting echoed around the Glen (note to self to return with wildlife kit soon). I crossed burns that cut across the path, and flowed down in to Loch turret below. Finally, after a hour I turned towards the steep track that cut up the side of the mountain and immediately saw the challenge of its relentless climb towards the top. I knew this was going to be heavy on my legs and lungs but onward I headed.
I was right, the climb was relentless. I steadied my pace, not wanting to blow myself out too early. Every few hundred meters, I would pause for a breather, grab 60 seconds of precious fresh Scottish air and then continue the hundreds of meters toward the summit. The air chilled to what must have been just above freezing point with the strong wind chill turning my hands red with the cold.
But I was determined to get to the top. I hadn’t come this far to turn give up and turn around. As I rounded the next corner, the steep inclined levelled out to reveal the boggy, plateau at the top. I navigated my way around a larger area of dark, sticky looking peat bog, as red grouse , spooked by my presence called loudly as they flew away in panic. Finally, after 10 minutes of marching through heather, the wind now howling around me, my jacket quickly slipped on and cinched down, I reached the summit.
There were no good photos to be taken on this flat featureless summit but i took some shots on the way up. What I had learned is that by putting the camera down and giving myself permission to just take some time out, I actually found myself and my focus again.