Wild Boar at Pirnmill

Tucked into the wooded edges of Pirnmill on the Isle of Arran was a quiet and unexpected presence, a small group of wild boar kept in a modest enclosure just off the beaten track. I had the privilege of photographing these remarkable animals during their time there, and although the enclosure has now been taken down and the boar are no longer part of the landscape, the memory lingers in my lens and in the land.

Wild boar are creatures of deep character, stocky, bristled and alert. Watching them root through the earth with powerful snouts or stand as still as carved figures with bright, cautious eyes was a strangely humbling experience. There is something primeval about them, as if they carry with them a time before fields were fenced and paths were paved.

The enclosure at Pirnmill, modest as it was, offered a glimpse of what it might feel like to share our woodlands with these animals once more. There was a sense of wildness there even in captivity, mud slicked hides, tusks catching the light, eyes gleaming under the dappled canopy. Photographing them felt more like an encounter than a shoot. I had to be patient, still and present, waiting for the moment when curiosity tipped the balance over caution.

Now the enclosure stands empty. The boar have moved on or been removed, and the hillside has fallen quiet again. Yet their presence remains in small ways, in the disturbed soil where they once foraged, in the stories shared by those who came to see them, and in the images I was fortunate enough to make.

These photographs are a small tribute to their time here, a reminder of what once was and perhaps, what could be again.