A Walk to Black-a-Tor Copse - Returning

A quiet walk through Black-a-Tor Copse on Dartmoor. Moss-covered trees, streams, changing light, photography and a few thoughts along the way.

Walk to Black-a-Tor Copse — Returning

Every journey has to begin somewhere, and for Western Light, this was the beginning.

Black-a-Tor Copse had stayed with me long after my first visit. Hidden within the valley of the West Okement River, surrounded by the open landscape of northern Dartmoor, it is one of those places that feels quietly timeless. Returning wasn't simply about making photographs; it was about slowing down, listening to the landscape, and seeing what story it might have to tell.

At the time, I had no real experience of making films. Photography had always been my way of recording a place, but this was my first attempt to combine moving images, sound, and narration into something more than a collection of clips. Looking back now, I can see plenty of things I'd change, but that's part of learning. Every film since has grown from the lessons I learned here.

What drew me back to Black-a-Tor Copse wasn't just the woodland itself, but the journey. Walking across the moor, hearing the river long before I could see it, and finally reaching the ancient oak trees made the destination feel earned. That's something I hope runs through every Western Light film: the idea that travelling through a landscape is just as important as arriving.

My favourite photograph from the day isn't necessarily the most dramatic. It's the image that reminds me how the place felt—quiet, unhurried, and full of small details that are easy to miss if you're only passing through.

This film will probably never be my most polished work, but it will always be my most important. Without this walk, there would be no Western Light. It marks the point where I stopped thinking about making films and simply started.