Sitting with Puffins
Puffins have always held a life long attraction for me and it’s been a long ambition to photograph them. Our recent motorhome trip to Mull allowed for this dream to be realised in May 2021. I remember as a child seeing the image of the clown like bird on books published by Penguin and badged as Puffin Books. My favourite was Worzel Gummidge by Barbara Euphan Todd , who famously wrote 10 novels in this series between 1937 and 1963 and published by Pengiun Books. I took great pleasure in reading these books to our daughter, albiet she preferred Harry Potter. I am undeterred however and my two grandsons 1 and 4 yrs respectively will not be spared Worzel Gummidge. A copy sits in my book case , with a full set of Harry Potter Books , Stig of the Dump, and the more recently added The Boy, The Mole, The Fox & The Horse by Charlie Mackesy. Essential reading for Children. However I digress and returning to Puffins I have seen them in captivity of course , there is a colony at Hunstanton Sea Life Centre , but this has never stood the test of seeing animals in the wild. I learnt this from the time we toured Africa and were able to compare the majesty of the big five beasts to those we had previously seen in captivity , albeit cared for they enduring life in Zoos and other facilities. Freedom is grace , for all living creatures don’t you think.
Worzel Gummidge
by Barbara Euphan Todd 1936
Setting out early along the single track roads on the delightful journey from Pennygown Camp Site to Fionnphort, we parked our motorhome on the Jetty and caught the boat to Staffa , a small small island , blessed by legend , Fingals Cave and of course Puffins.
Staffa is the home to a Puffin Colony and in the summer the Scottish National Trust allows access on dedicated tours . The other attractions , including Fingal’s Cave are of considerable interest and reputedly influenced the composer Mendelssohn to write his Overture The Hebrides, following an 1829 trip to Staffa where he saw the Cave in its full glory. It’s a unique rock formation for which folklore suggests is the remnants of boulder thrown by a giant. However more recent origin of the name 'Fingal's Cave' is wrapped in myth. Around 250 AD Finn MacCumhaill, or Fingal, was possibly an Irish general who had a band of faithful warriors - a Celtic parallel to King Arthur and his Round Table. Fingal is supposed to have been the father of Ossian, traditional bard of the Gaels.
There are also other sea life creatures on the island which normally would grace any scene , but Puffins !!!!!! . I could not see passed them , they held such a place in my heart. The boat ride was a calm but interesting as we passed the Isle of Iona , chased by dolphins playing in our wake , the joy and expectation of the day was building.
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Docking on Staffa is not guaranteed as the swell changes and landing requires the Captains judgement, but on this occasion we claimed onto the dock side to faced by a steep set of stairs . The Choice is to go left for the cave or climb to the top and head across the island to the Puffins. Many headed to the cave first , we claimed the stairs two at a time such was our enthusiasm and yomped onwards onto the other side of the small island to where the Puffins had burrowed themselves into the cliff side. Approaching we became aware of Puffins flying , we were mesmerised at their swift like agility.
So we climbed to the end of the path at the far end of the island , an island that if you used your imagination could be a setting for all manner of Children’s books about fairies , pixies, goblins and giants. My mind drifting back to the Puffin books I suspect , as we sat on the grass patiently waiting for these gentle clown like creatures to return , and return they did. There are few moments allowed to a near 60 year old that amount to shear joy, the presence of children and grandchildren aside , but this was high octane sheer joy , the stuff of wonder that brings a tear to the eye in wonderment. They came in their hundreds , back and forth. Some with precision diving into their burrows without touching the sides, some rested on the cliff and posed for the camera. The stiller we were the more trusting these gentle creatures became , it was a trust, a sacred trust , but who would harm such creatures , so perhaps trust is the wrong word. You could not look on these creatures however without feeling some historic duty on mankind to protect the habitat they enjoy. It was wonderful , someone shouted to me if you don’t go now you wouldn’t see the cave, I cared not , a cave is a hole in the ground , I have puffins. Alas it was time to go , I could have stayed , I had named several of them each having its own features. My favourite, I named him Graham, was especially joyful and musical, but with a kind face . I named him after my friend Graham for whom he reminded me , a faithful man , an excellent musician who is recovering from ill health. I thought that in the balance of the world , having a kindred spirit sharing your name in this colony would only speed his recovery. Surely this is grace in abundance.
Our full image collection from the Isle of Mull is held on our Behance Gallery - the link is here. https://www.behance.net/gallery/119264441/The-Isle-of-Mull
Thanks for reading
Kindest regards
Helen and Martin
