A Focus on Looe River

Looe is much like any other coastal town in Cornwall, England - huge crowds of tourists come flocking in the school holidays, to sit on the beach, and eat fish’n’chips.

The river whilst a big part of Looe (both physically and historically), and often photographed from its harbour banks or the bridge that connects East with West, isn’t the destination for these travellers, it’s more of a nice backdrop to their day by the sea.

Looe Harbour, photographed from it's West Bank, looking North East.

Just to the North of the bridge the river splits in two, it’s Western source running past the massive visitor car park, with the tourists quick marching in to town, eager to get a prime spot on the beach, or hit the shops - the river ignored.

For me, and many locals, the river has become a place of peace and quiet from the throngs of visitors, a gentle woodland walk to be found along its valley banks, as it gently winds west.

Egret with its prey.

Nature - to, finds peace from people and their innumerable dogs - the opposite bank from the carpark is generally unreachable by people, so has become a haven for Herons, and Egrets, making their nests high above the water line.

Around low tide, the Egrets flock to the shallow water, walking slowly upstream - their gaze fixed down whilst they shake their legs to agitate the silt and disturb fish, a quick piercing flash later, they catch and promptly swallow small silver fish, the fish having a somewhat shocked expression in its eyes.

Landing, twisting and dancing, the Egret hunts for fish.

Egrets are beautiful birds, as they twist and dance to get the fish that slipped past them, their call however is anything but beautiful, indeed I’d describe them as “gobby” when a gull dares intrude upon their fishing.

Herons are more elusive, or at least for me so far they are! I’ve spent many days by the river at various hours and tide times - they seem to spend their days in the trees and gliding from one side of the valley to the other.

Heron perching on a branch opposite the car park.

Only on occasion do they land in the water, standing motionless and then fly off back to their exclusive nests, high in the trees. They are majestic birds, and their difficult behaviour makes photographing them a pleasure.

Herons are elusive, but not nearly as elusive as some of the other visitors to this tranquil river.

Heron, standing still, statuesque. 

Kingfishers are beautiful, but until I started attempting to photograph them - I had no idea just how hard they are to capture on camera.

It’s a familiar scene, you’re walking down the river on a sunny morning, and out of the corner of your eye is a bright blue flash, - gone, then minutes later another, gone… they are remarkably fast, and so tiny - far smaller than I had expected.

They seem to like the time around low tide, so I kept going deliberately around that time, hoping to catch one on a wall, twig, boat or the ubiquitous traffic cone that finds its way in to our waterways. These places they use to survey the water below them, before they dart in to the water with incredible speed, only to return with a morsal in their tiny beak.

The opposing bank is some distance away and makes capturing a small creature hard - even with the amazing 200-600mm lens I pack, so my first few attempts where rather poor, but I like a challenge.

Eventually, luck, patience and practice with that beast of a lens paid off.

A beautiful, but tiny bird, the Kingfisher sits on some seaweed.

A rarer sight yet is an animal without wings, and one that I can happily watch through the camera for hours at a time.

The woods run down both sides of the river, the southern bank is littered with footpaths and lovely leafy walks that lead to quiet spots and sudden clearings with views of the river below - a favourite area of mine during Autumn, as the rich reds and earthy browns are peaceful and beautiful.

The north side, whilst reachable, is hard to get to and very few paths exist on that side, - as such European Roe Deer are known to graze there in peace, less likely to find a dog yapping at their ankles.

European Roe Deer, looks at me, possibly wondering if I to like leaves.

On rare occasion, and mostly early in the morning, one of these deer has taken to swimming in the water, and grazing on the leaves by the river bank - much to my delight.

There’s something wonderfully “exclusive” feeling, when you’re stood on the edge of a car park, with people rushing from their cars to town unaware of the nature around them, as I watch a deer blissfully munching on leaves, sand pipers, gulls and other birds swim and feed around it, unfazed by human activity.

It's serene and relaxing sometimes, just to pause and look.

Moments like that, slow life down and make me appreciate what is around us so much more.

Of course, so much more visits, lives in, and plays on this river. Cormorants glide up the river, their almost pre-historic appearance in stark contrast to many of the rivers inhabitants.

They have impressive beaks, wildly blue eyes and hunt with a remarkable speed and efficiency. It’s rather fun to watch them glide submerged through the water, a wake gently flowing from behind them. There’s a game to be had here, I find myself guessing when it will pop up for air or with what prize it found.

The other day, I and the Cormorant where both surprised by its catch - a plaice. This flat fish sits on the sand, well camouflaged on one side, and bright white on its belly - however it wasn’t hidden well enough when the cormorants beak came calling.

Cormorant (sea raven) vs Plaice - the plaice won.

Compared to the cormorants beak and throat though, the plaice was large, to large. The poor fish was tossed in the air, dropped, re-found, hooked and chomped over and over as the bird tried to swallow its delicious prize. Its eyes proved bigger than its belly or skill to swallow the fish. The fish undoubtedly disturbed by the experience got to go free, the cormorant let out a disgruntled sound, and then stretched its massive wings and launched itself down the river, gliding low over the now still water.

Cormorant swimming with the plaice, unsure what to do with it.

Naturally being a British coastal town, we’ve got more Seagulls than people - and they dominate this waterway.

Locals will have a hearty laugh as some poor visitor looses chips or ice-cream to these precision hunters, the skill, accuracy with which they can decapitate a fresh ice-cream from its cone and owner is remarkable, even if the owner doesn’t appreciate it.

Signs fill town saying “DON’T FEED THE GULLS”, and you’ll catch a scornful look if you do, but you’d be in the company of many if you find yourself chucking a chip at a squeaking chick or podgy adult.

Despite this thieving reputation, I’ve photographed many-a-gull catching its own fish from the river, wresting with the fish, and then the other gulls who want to capitalise on its work.

Just needs to grab some chips and it can have a traditional dish!

I would argue that whilst they’ve littered streets with their bin raiding, chip dive bombing runs and ice-cream snatching, they are still largely successful hunters of their natural prey and the easier food of tourists hasn’t entirely ruined that skill.

This said, a lot of nesting habitat has been taken from them, so rather than the cliffs and nooks they’d once use, most raise their young on the tops of roofs, something unwanted by house owners and putting them at risk from our domestic pets - I feel for them as I photograph and admire their oh-so-fluffy young.

Baby seagulls huddle together on a rooftop.

There’s a great deal more to photograph and see in this beautiful river, ducks, Canada goose, swans, sandpipers and oystercatchers visit, and I really want to catch a seal playing in the water at some point.

A swan floats along the river whilst preening.

Needless to say, this river is going to get a great deal of scrutiny from me, my camera and I’m looking forward to many more mornings savouring the peace, taking time to pause, reflect and relax - something I’ve found essential as I work on building my business and continue this journey taking passion in to profession, and balancing those two forces so that the passion isn’t lost in the profession.