I'm Carol — I'll help you notice the wildlife that's already around you, and come home from your next walk with photos that feel like the moment.
Some days feel wonderfully alive — birds calling, a flash of wings, a beetle working its way through the grass — and then you get home and the photos look… disappointing. Blurry. Too far away. Nothing like the moment.
Me in a bird hide at Rutland Water. (Photo Credit to Mel Parsons)If you leave here noticing more wildlife and closing the gap between how the day felt and how your photos turned out, I've succeeded. Along the way you'll pick up simple camera skills and ethical fieldcraft—and realise that the experience matters more than the evidence.
You might have noticed that wildlife that was once common is now a treat to spot — and something in you wants to start recording what's still here.
This site is for people who've been too busy to look when outdoors— until now. You'll feel at home here if:
Plenty of people fit more than one of those — you'll find something useful wherever you start.
Everything here is designed for self-guided learning, focused on the wildlife that lives where most of us actually are: gardens, parks, towpaths, ponds, meadows, and local reserves — especially birds and insects.
On the site you'll find:
My aim is to help you come away with two things: a stronger sense of what's around you, and a way to capture it that doesn't do harm.
Male StonechatMy grandad gave me my first film camera when I was seven. He took me out walking and taught me to listen first — to notice what I was hearing and seeing, and even to read tracks in the ground and snow.
He could name a bird from its call and tell who'd been around from the signs they left behind. He taught me how to notice what most people walk past.
I taught myself photography back when nothing was automatic: no autofocus, no built-in light meter, no screen on the back of the camera. I'd write down my settings after each shot, then match them up with the prints when they came back.
These days I shoot digital and review what happened afterwards in Lightroom — but I'm still learning the same way I always have: by paying attention, trying again, and seeing what works.
Years later, I filled my first external hard drive with photographs — thousands of them, sitting there of no use to anyone but me. When I went back through them, I realised there were a lot of learned lessons on there, from the failures and the great shots. And some of the things I'd photographed — things that once felt ordinary — weren't so easy to find any more.
I wanted to put those skills, mistakes, and practical know-how to use, so more people can notice what's here now… and remember it properly.
Short-eared owl "pooping" in mid airOf course, not every shot is a winner. I'm still not sure that photographing a Short-eared Owl mid-poop is quite what Henri Cartier-Bresson meant by "The Decisive Moment."

Over the years I've been lucky to have my work recognised — my robin photograph was chosen for the Beds, Cambs and Northants Wildlife Trusts calendar, I won prizes at Paxton Pits nature reserve, and took first place in a local newspaper wildlife photography contest. One of my photos was even featured on a TV weather forecast, and another published in Canon EOS Magazine.

What I share here comes from all of that:
If the choice is between getting a photo and causing stress or disturbance, the photo doesn't matter. There will be other moments — and the wildlife deserves the chance to keep living its life.
However you arrive: browse, follow your curiosity, and take it one walk at a time.
Seasonal field notes from my wildlife walks: recent encounters, the story behind favourite photos, and simple, practical tips you can use on your next outing.