I grew up in a small village nestled almost perfectly between two contrasting worlds - turn one way and out sprawls suburbia and the greater Glasgow area; turn the other and you’ll find little else but fields, farmland, braes and woodland for miles. If anything it’s this crossroads nature of the place that has left it steeped in history and containing so many little hidden nooks and crannies.
For years I knew of a piece of woodland in the village that I knew should have been accessible. I could see it on Google Maps. I could see it from a distance. I had seen a handful of photos and mentions of it online. I had heard of its history and its loose ties to William Wallace, Saint Patrick, and as a possible part of an ancient pilgrimage route. However, I had absolutely no idea how on earth you actually got in there beyond boldly sprinting across a rather nice golf course and hoping I could scramble through the bush before getting skelped by a rogue ball or two.
During the lockdown summer of 2020, I made it my mission to find out how to access it, and make my rather small world of being confined by law to the village just that little bit bigger.
One day, on my one legally allowed walk of the day and armed with my Yashica Mat-124G, I noticed a gate and a muddy path sandwiched between two houses on a small street I had never actually been down. It was in the right area, heading in the right direction, the street had a very assuring name to a historic feature of the woods (to which I had never made the connection until then)… this had to be it, right?
The path was long and unexpectedly forked. On one fork, a dead end. The other fork I wasn’t sure was a fork at all given the path was blocked by fallen trees and uneven ground. I persevered, and the path began to unfold in front of me.
I had done it. This wood I had wondered about for so many years was right under my nose the whole time, complete with a winding, uneven path round its circumference, and a hill climb up a gorgeous open path lined by ancient trees that at its top offered a lovely view of the village and the valley it sits in.
Turns out it can’t have been that lost to everyone though, as on my way out I must have passed about four different dog walkers.
All black and white shots were taken across several visits that summer with my Yashica Mat-124G, with a Rolleinar #2 close-up lens and some Ilford FP4+ pushed to ASA 400. All colour shots were taken with my Canon EOS 600D with a 50mm f/1.8 STM and some extension tubes.
All shots were also heavily inspired by Porter Robinson’s Nurture album, which was the sound of that summer.
(Click on the images below to see them in full!)
