Photography Day

Some walks are about covering distance. Others are about slowing down and noticing what is already there.

This was one of those walks.

With a new camera setup to practise with and a pair of wellies ready to face the mud that had defeated me on previous outings, I headed into the Kilpatrick Hills before sunrise. The forecast promised clear skies and cold temperatures, and as I climbed higher the fading glow of a full moon hung above the hills, watching over the landscape before giving way to the morning light.

The colder months often reveal a different side of the Kilpatrick Hills. The paths are wetter, the bogs are deeper, and the weather can be less inviting. It’s during these months that the hills can feel almost empty. On many winter walks I can spend hours out here and meet only one or two people, if anyone at all.

Yet these are some of my favourite days to explore.

The stillness of the Jaw Reservoir was the first thing that caught my attention. The water reflected the surrounding hills almost perfectly, creating a mirror-like surface broken only by the occasional ripple. Frost clung to the grass along the shoreline, while the first hints of colour appeared in the eastern sky.

As the sun slowly rose over the shoulder of the hills, the landscape changed by the minute. What had been shades of blue and silver transformed into warm oranges and golds. The reservoir glowed, the surrounding moorland came alive, and the hills seemed to wake alongside the day.

Photography has become one of the ways I connect more deeply with these places. Looking through a lens encourages patience. It forces you to stop, study the light, and appreciate details that might otherwise go unnoticed. The reflection of a fence post in still water. Frost-covered grass beneath your boots. The last moments of moonlight before dawn.

These small details often tell the biggest stories.

What I find most interesting is how different the hills feel at this time of year. Social media often celebrates perfect summer evenings, dry paths and clear views, but there is another side to the Kilpatrick Hills that deserves appreciation. The muddy tracks, the cold mornings, the low winter sun and the quiet solitude all have a beauty of their own.

Part of the reason for sharing these photographs and future winter features is to showcase that side of the landscape.

Not because I want to see the hills overwhelmed with visitors, nor because I want to encourage damage to already muddy paths. Quite the opposite.

The more people who develop a genuine appreciation for these hills, the more people there are who care about their future. Photography, walking, birdwatching, learning about the local wildlife, understanding the geology, or simply spending time outdoors can all help build a stronger connection with the land.

We all have a stake in protecting places like this.

The Kilpatrick Hills belong to all of us in some way. Their future depends on people who value them enough to respect them.

So while the paths may be muddy, the mornings cold, and the weather less than perfect, don’t overlook these months. Some of the most memorable days in the hills happen when most people choose to stay at home.

On this particular morning, with muddy boots, a camera full of photographs and a sunrise reflected across the still waters of the Jaw Reservoir, I was reminded once again why these hills continue to draw me back.

Every season has something to offer.

You simply have to be there to see it.