Part One: Beginning the Journey – Fieldcraft and Ethical Wildlife Photography
There is a moment every nature lover remembers. It might be a fox trotting along the edge of a field at first light, the brief flash of a kingfisher over a still river, or the slow, deliberate turn of a deer’s head in a woodland glade. If you are lucky enough to have a camera in your hands when these moments arrive, the instinct is to press the shutter. But for wildlife photographers, the real craft begins long before the click.
This series is about that craft – known as fieldcraft – and about how to photograph nature in a way that puts wildlife first. Over three parts, we will explore how to watch and photograph wildlife ethically and with minimal impact. We will start here with the foundations: understanding what fieldcraft is, why it matters, and how to begin with patience, awareness, and respect.
I never would have got this image of “Silver” (in the background") and her 2 cubs if I had not spent many months visiting the same stretch of the canal at dawn. It took me 9 weeks before I saw my first Otter at this location. Patience is the key!
What is fieldcraft?
Fieldcraft is the quiet skill of reading the land and the life that moves through it. It is noticing the soft ripple in long grass that might mark a vole’s trail, the faint smell that tells you a fox passed this way last night, or the sudden hush in a flock of finches when a sparrowhawk appears.
For wildlife photographers, fieldcraft is the bridge between simply seeing wildlife and capturing it on camera. It is about positioning yourself so that animals behave naturally, rather than reacting to your presence. Good fieldcraft means you get closer – not by walking up to wildlife, but by allowing wildlife to come close to you.
Why it matters
British wildlife is under constant pressure. Habitats are shrinking, food sources are changing, and the seasons themselves are shifting. Many species face stress every day, and human disturbance can tip the balance.
An otter forced to abandon a fishing spot because of human noise might not feed properly that day. A wader disturbed on its migration stopover may burn through energy it needs to survive the journey. A bird repeatedly flushed from its nest may fail to raise its young.
Photography should never add to that pressure. The aim is not just to avoid harm, but to actively work in a way that benefits wildlife. When we move slowly, keep our distance, and read the signs, animals are less likely to be disturbed. We see more, learn more, and our photographs show behaviour that is genuine.
Ethical, low impact photography
The phrase low impact is simple but important. It means leaving no trace, not altering behaviour, and not changing a habitat to get a better image.
It is easy to think that one person will not make a difference, but small disturbances add up. If one photographer moves branches around a bird’s nest for a clearer shot, others will follow. If one walker approaches a resting seal, more may do the same. Over time, the disturbance grows.
Low impact photography starts with a few clear principles:
Wildlife first, photographs second.
Take nothing, leave nothing.
If in doubt, back away.
Never share nest or den locations.
Let wildlife set the distance, not you.
It may seem obvious but you need to get out there and spend days in the field honing your fieldcraft. The more you do it the easier you’ll find it.
Start with watching, not shooting
One of the best ways to begin is to leave the camera at home for a day and simply watch. This may feel counter-intuitive, but it builds the habits that good photographers rely on.
Carry binoculars and a notebook. Learn the shapes and movements of the species in your area. Notice how they react when you appear, how they feed, where they rest. Understanding this rhythm is far more valuable than rushing to take a photograph.
For example, you might learn that the heron at your local pond prefers to fish in the shady shallows after mid-morning, or that a certain oak tree hosts a pair of nuthatches that always approach from the same branch. These are patterns you can work with later when you bring your camera.
The role of patience
Patience is at the heart of ethical photography. Rather than chasing wildlife, you wait for wildlife to come to you. This is not a passive process – it is active, focused waiting.
When photographing badgers, for example, you might spend the first few visits simply finding a good spot downwind of the sett. You will sit on a mat, keep still, and listen. The badgers may not appear at first, but over time they will get used to your quiet presence. Eventually, you may find yourself watching them forage and play without them ever knowing you are there.
Essential kit for low impact photography
You do not need to start with expensive equipment. A small, thoughtful kit is often best
Binoculars – for spotting and studying wildlife at a distance.
Entry level camera with a 200 to 300 millimetre lens – enough reach for most situations.
Tripod or beanbag – for stability when you are waiting in one spot.
Sit mat and flask – comfort helps you stay still for longer.
Notebook or phone app – record sightings, times, and behaviour.
Camouflage suits, hides, and huge lenses can come later if you need them, but they are not essential for starting out.
Mistakes to avoid
Every beginner makes them, but being aware of common errors helps you avoid causing harm.
Getting too close – let the lens do the work.
Using playback calls – can cause stress and disrupt behaviour.
Sharing exact locations online – can lead to crowding and disturbance.
Baiting animals – changes natural habits and can make wildlife dependent on human food.
Ignoring habitat – trampling plants or disturbing ground for a better view can have lasting impact.
Reading the signs
Good fieldcraft is about learning to read clues in the landscape.
Tracks and prints – muddy paths, sandbanks, or snow often reveal who has been there before you.
Fur & feathers left behind - after passing under barbed wire fences, or as a result of grooming or preening.
Droppings and feeding signs – chewed hazelnuts, stripped pinecones, or pellets under a perch all point to recent activity.
Sounds – alarm calls, drumming woodpeckers, and wingbeats carry information about what is happening nearby.
Smell – foxes, otters, and deer leave scents that can be surprisingly noticeable when you know what to expect.
These signs help you choose where to sit, where to wait, and how to position yourself without stumbling into a sensitive area. We will learn more about this in part 2 of this series.
Choosing your first species
Starting with common, tolerant species is the best way to build skills without risk of disturbance.
Robins are curious and often approach people who sit quietly in gardens or hedgerows.
Grey herons are widespread and will often stand still for long periods, making them ideal for practicing focus and composition.
Mute swans and mallards in urban parks are used to people and allow close observation without harm.
By working with species that cope well with human presence, you can refine your fieldcraft before moving on to rarer or more sensitive wildlife.
Your first subjects don’t need to be rare or elusive. Birds like Pheasants are relatively common and often pretty dumb, meaning you can perfect your camera technical skills, as well as getting used to sitting still and observing behaviour over several hours.
Practical exercise: a quiet watch
This exercise is about learning through stillness. It will help you understand species behaviour before you ever take a photograph.
Choose a location you can return to easily – a park, nature reserve, or patch of woodland.
Leave the camera at home for this exercise. Take only binoculars, a notebook, and perhaps a flask of tea.
Sit quietly in one spot for at least 30 minutes. Pick somewhere with a clear view but where you are partly concealed.
Watch and listen. Note when and how different species appear. Do they approach cautiously? Do they ignore you? How do they interact with each other?
Record patterns. Does activity increase at a certain time? Do certain birds favour the same perch?
Reflect after the session. How did the wildlife respond to your stillness? Could you have been even quieter or more patient?
Repeating this exercise in the same location over several days will reveal patterns you would miss on a quick walk. These patterns are the building blocks of good fieldcraft.
Getting to know your patch by simply sitting and watching the “rhythm of life” is prefect for those days when the light isn’t great for traditional wildlife portrait or behaviour photography.
Building a relationship with your patch
Fieldcraft improves when you work the same places repeatedly. Visit a local wood, riverbank, or meadow through the seasons. Notice when certain flowers bloom, when birds start singing, or when mammals become more visible.
Over time you will begin to anticipate where and when encounters will happen. You will learn the difference between a wood in early spring and the same wood in late summer. This knowledge means you can plan your photography without guesswork.
The joy of common encounters
It is tempting to think only rare species are worth photographing, but there is beauty in the everyday. A crow’s glossy feathers in winter sun, a hedgehog shuffling through fallen leaves, or starlings forming a murmuration over rooftops – all are moments worth capturing.
By slowing down and noticing the common, you sharpen the skills that will serve you when a rarer encounter does come along.
Looking ahead
This is the first step in a journey that combines patience, observation, and respect. In the next part of the series, we will look at practical techniques for finding, approaching, and working with wildlife while keeping disturbance to a minimum. The final part will focus on photographing behaviour and creating images that tell a story.
For now, the challenge is simple: go outside without the goal of learning about your subject and your local habitats. Watch. Listen. Learn the rhythms of your local patch. When you do pick up the camera, your images will feel more authentic because they are rooted in understanding.
Wildlife photography is not a race for the rarest shot. It is a slow, rewarding practice that deepens your connection with the natural world. And when you put wildlife first, you will find the photographs come as a natural part of the process, and not the reason for it.