Gone But Not Forgotten: Wild Boar at Pirnmill
Tucked into the wooded edges of Pirnmill on the Isle of Arran was a quiet, unexpected presence — a small group of wild boar, held in a modest enclosure just off the beaten track. I had the privilege of photographing these remarkable animals during their time there, and though the enclosure has since been dismantled and the boar are no longer a part of the landscape, the memory lingers in my lens and in the land.
Wild boar are creatures of deep character — stocky, bristled, alert. Watching them root through the earth with their powerful snouts or stand, still as statues, with eyes bright and cautious, was a strangely humbling experience. There’s something primeval about them — as if they carry with them a time before fields were fenced and paths were paved.
The enclosure at Pirnmill, while modest, offered a glimpse into what it might be like to share our woodlands with these animals once more. There was a sense of wildness there, even in captivity — mud-slicked hides, tusks glinting, eyes gleaming under the dappled canopy light. Photographing them felt more like an encounter than a shoot. I had to be patient, still, and present — waiting for the moment when curiosity outweighed caution.
Sadly, the enclosure is now empty. The boar have moved on or been removed, and the hillside is quiet again. But in some ways, their presence still lingers — in the disturbed soil where they once foraged, in the stories told by those who came to see them, and in the images I was fortunate enough to capture.
These photographs are a small tribute to their time here, a reminder of what once was — and perhaps, what could be again.
