Being a generalist in the world of natural history photography is no bad thing but having a ‘speciality’ can be of particular benefit in giving you something upon which to hang your evolution as a nature photographer.
-Paul Harcourt Davies
There is one element throughout my life that seems to link apparently diverse events. It has influenced my progress as a photographer and writer, where I choose to live and more. It is a passion for wild orchids: their diversity and form, their function and the intricacies of their lives that led me initially to take up photography seriously and subsequently learn all I could to reveal their secret lives.
The Start
To begin at the beginning as another Welshman said, my earliest clear memories include a golden-ringed dragonfly hawking over a brook and butterflies crowding the michaelmas daisies which my father grew; small tortoiseshell, red admirals and—best of all–the peacock, which I thought was the loveliest thing I had ever seen.
Nature became my love and best friend in my childhood and, for Christmas when I was seven, a small student microscope allowed me to enter new realms. As an adult, that love has helped me through the darkest of times and life without it is unimaginable.
When, as a ten year old wandering over the sand dunes at Kenfig, I found my very first bee orchid (Ophrys apifera), it was an Epiphany – I could not believe such a flower, perfectly imitating a bee could exist…
A few years later, in V. S. Summerhayes’ classic book Wild Orchids of Britain, I discovered orchids whose flowers looked like insects, monkeys, wriggling lizards and even naked men! But it was not just the forms that intrigued. Every aspect of these plants seemed remarkable. I learned that their seeds can only germinate if invaded by fungi, and that the flowers emit chemical cocktails that mimic the sex pheromones of bees, to deceive the insects into pollinating them.
[BELOW] My formative days of orchid interest involved a fascination with the intriguing shapes of their flowers. None moreso than the tiny dancing figures of the Monkey orchid (even revealing a face beneath the hood made by 3 sepals and 2 petals whilst a modified third petal provides arms and legs). Likewise, the names of the lady orchid and naked man orchid require little explanation!
[BELOW] The diversity of structure in orchid flowers is endlessly fascinating. With my photography I try to communicate a message that, just beyond our gaze, lie things of true intriguing beauty.
Diversion and Decision
All through secondary school I was intent on studying bacteriology so I could spend time looking down the kind of microscopes I dreamed of owning. Then in the sixth form, a passion for mathematics led me to study theoretical physics at Oxford. In hindsight, those years as undergraduate and post graduate seem to form an aberrant period but they nevertheless provided a foundation for an understanding of the more technical aspects of photography…and later articles and books.
On a rainy day visit to Foyles book store I saw a book by Anthony Huxley and Oleg Polunin: Flowers of the Mediterranean. Suddenly, I saw the incredible diversity revealed in the continental relatives of the Bee Orchid I discovered as a child. Little did I know that, a decade later, I would publish a book on European orchids with Anthony Huxley, then a very well-known authority on plants and gardens.
I took to teaching Maths and Physics, while spending as much time as I could out in the field using a Practika SLR I had bought. After winning several competitions, and getting images published, it was succeeded by a Canon F1 and new lenses.
[BELOW] In orchids of the genus Ophrys, small bees attempt to copulate with the flowers, attracted and fooled by pheromone-like scents, and thereby carry off pollen to another flower of the same species. Ophrys apifera (my first orchid find back in the mists of time) is an exception to the rule. It might look like a bee but is actually self-pollinated. The ultra close-up reveals the tiny pollen bundles here descending on their thin stems (caudices).
Orchid Travels begin
In April 1974, I went on the first of many springtime trips in search of wild orchids, choosing Crete as the destination. (The following year saw a return to Crete plus a week in the Peloponnese in southern Greece). I can still remember the sheer delight and the lift to my spirits when walking on hillsides where the air was filled with the scent of oregano and rosemary and there was an astonishing variety and abundance of wild flowers and butterflies.
I thought I could only dream of living somewhere like that—until I saw an advert in the Times Education Supplement that a Head of Physics was needed in Nicosia, Cyprus. I applied and got the job. There ensued three very happy years where I spent hundreds of hours photographing orchids (of course), endemic plants, butterflies, mantids and much more. Through the orchids I gave public lectures, made radio broadcasts and a TV appearance or two and my daughter Hannah was born. Events like this were encouraging and reinforced that old adage to seize the day… “carpe diem”.
That time in Cyprus (1978-81) convinced me that a life as a nature photographer and writer was my goal and I began my first book on European Wild Orchids. Unfortunately, my ‘Kyprophilia’ was not shared by my then wife and we returned to the UK. Almost as if to prove to me that I should be staying, just as I left my orchid images were used on a set of four postage stamps and 12 of my flower images featured on a large format calendar for the Bank of Cyprus.
[BELOW] Orchids photographed in Crete and the Peloponnese, areas where my orchid travels began.
Those faithful wild orchids came to the rescue again when my orchid book was published in 1983. By burning the midnight oil l wrote numerous articles, then did tours for several different companies during vacations and even went on two lecture tours to the USA, where the positivity of attitudes did wonders to encourage me.
[BELOW] One of the most prized of all European orchids is the Lady’s Slipper (Cypripedium calculus). Its obvious beauty has led to over-collecting and picking and it is now everywhere protected by laws. It often grows in wonderful places… here beside a rushing Apennine stream into which I waded, feet turning blue, to get images from the other side.
Into the Abyss
In 1986 I finally made the leap to freelance life, having added several other books to my list of publications. The techniques I had learned from my love of wild orchids allowed me to grow my photographic repertoire to include flowers of all sorts, as well as the insects that visited them. As my subjects grew, so did my opportunities for travel photography, guide books and magazine work.
Out of the blue, in 1995, I received a letter from Alternative Travel Group (ATG) Oxford who ran walking tours and wanted me to put together and lead some tours to Italy based on the orchid flora. This resulted in trips to Gargano (an orchid paradise in Puglia), the Sibillini area in the Apennines and the Dolomites. The tours became a way of sharing the experience of being in superb places seeing orchids, other flowers, butterflies and birds… all while getting paid!
In 1996, I began writing a book: The Complete Guide to Close-up and Macro Photography which appeared in 1998 and went into both hard and paperback editions. It was subsequently translated into German, Dutch, Spanish and French which opened numerous doors (including a few opportunities to present on BBC2’s ‘Tracks’). I loved writing that book, for it was a fusion of things about which I am passionate… the natural world, the technical side of photography, building and designing gadgets to solve challenges, and a fascination with pattern and form and what lies behind them.
[BELOW] Although the orchid interest has never waned, it has both fed upon and been nourished by a complex interplay with my love for the physics behind imaging. Technological advances over the years have allowed me to get sharper and more diverse images of orchids, other plants, insects and landscapes.
In 1996, I began writing a book: The Complete Guide to Close-up and Macro Photography which appeared in 1998 and went into both hard and paperback editions. It was subsequently translated into German, Dutch, Spanish and French which opened numerous doors (including a few opportunities to present on BBC2’s ‘Tracks’). I loved writing that book, for it was a fusion of things about which I am passionate… the natural world, the technical side of photography, building and designing gadgets to solve challenges, and a fascination with pattern and form and what lies behind them.
[BELOW] Although the orchid interest has never waned, it has both fed upon and been nourished by a complex interplay with my love for the physics behind imaging. Technological advances over the years have allowed me to get sharper and more diverse images of orchids, other plants, insects and landscapes.
The Biggest Change of All
Serendipity has been (and still is) a personal friend and has brought so much. However, top of any list has been meeting my soulmate Lois who was listed to be the tour manager of the Dolomites trip I put together for ATG. That eventually heralded the biggest change of all for both of us… a move to Italy, in 2003.
Sustained by optimism and naivety, we found a ruined farmhouse owned by a one-legged man who lived in a cave (true!) and have done much of the renovation work ourselves.
The move to Italy opened up many more opportunities for photography. Now I have many Italian friends, though initially it moved me away from contact with other photographers and kindred spirits. Speaking at Wild Photos on three occasions and being a judge for Wildlife Photographer of the Year (2015) were stimulating milestones, and being able to work with some incredible people was a great boost.
[BELOW] In recent years, much of my work has involved photographing close to home. We have one hectare of ‘wild’ ground which is my outdoor laboratory (and during lockdown kept me on this side of sanity). A camera plus macro lens and macro flash sits on my desk, from where I can photograph through French windows on to flower beds. Recent visitors have included this crab spider (Thomisus onustus), cuckoo wasp (Chrysis comparata) and bee fly (Bombylius minor).
The Unforeseen
The freelance life is a veritable game of snakes and ladders: in 2016 I encountered a serpent in the form of prostate cancer and for a year before and after surgery felt completely drained of energy. I am one of the lucky ones, now in complete remission and treasuring each and every day. That year my birthday was spent in hospital recovering but when, catheter free, I was able to do some gentle walking a few weeks later, Lois took me to see an orchid site we love and all was suddenly right with the world.
From that first bee orchid at Kenfig in the dune slacks over 60 years ago, the orchid trail has led me to where I love being. In spring, we have a wonderful dawn chorus with up to seven nesting pairs of nightingales arriving in early April (hoopoes and wryneck arrive a few weeks before) and golden orioles nest in the poplars. The garden explodes with poppies and other flowers in spring and summer and each year I find things not seen before….we have logged over 40 species of butterfly and some ten species of hawkmoth. There are deer, porcupine, wild boar, foxes, badger, beech marten, bats and we do all we can to minimise our impact on them. During lockdown we were especially grateful to have a wild hectare for a garden, rather than a small flat in a town.
For all my good fortune, I have the orchids to thank. Their intriguing shapes and astonishing biology have shaped my life in innumberable ways.
[BELOW] Orchids led me to books, travel and tours. They even helped me find my soulmate, and the Italian farmhouse where we now live. Here, our lives are guided by nature, and we have let our wild and garden flowers decide where they want to be. I wake each day and cannot believe the way things have worked out.
