After my visit to Catalonia last month, I came across a film about the Muga River, where I had spent a few days. In Caspar Daniël Diederik’s documentary, Muga: When She Stops Flowing, So Will We, the river itself narrates a story of the threats that it is facing – from drought to dams – and we meet the people and communities who work together to ensure a better future. The film creates a dialogue between landscape and human stories, and it gave me a better understanding of the place I had recently visited. This led me to wonder whether a film could be made about Lenzie Moss. Perhaps it could follow me as I walk round the site through the seasons – a way of sharing the 100 circles of this project with a wider audience. I would need to think about what story I wanted to tell and how best to film it. I knew just who to talk to.
Simon is a filmmaker and conservationist, who I have worked with a few times at the university. He has led film making and photography workshops for our students and presented on his conservation work in sub-Saharan Africa. He also directs the Edinburgh Conservation Film Festival. Simon is therefore very well placed to help me focus my idea for a Lenzie Moss film, so I send him an email. As I hoped, he is enthusiastic about joining me for a walk. We plan his visit from Edinburgh and arrange to meet at the station.
On a drizzly Wednesday afternoon, I introduce Simon to the Moss. Like so many people who have frequently travelled between Edinburgh and Glasgow, passing this place on the train, Simon had no idea it was here. On these walks, I have welcomed a lot of people here for the first time, and as I have got to know this place better, I am becoming a more natural host. As I tell Simon, I have also walked with people who know the Moss far better than me. There are no clear distinctions between the host and the guest in this project.
While Simon is discovering this place for the first time, he is a seasoned interviewer and subtly directs the conversation. I defer an early question about what I wanted to get out of this project, instead showing Simon the fences and introducing what I see as they main story that is emerging here: that of the tensions around conservation and access. This is a familiar story to Simon. Everywhere he has worked – from Bruntsfield to Botswana – he has encountered competing priorities, tensions, negotiations and attempted compromises.
Simon tells me about the ‘4 Cs’ model for conservation developed by Jochen Zeitz, the former CEO of the sports brand, Puma. Working from the Segera Conservancy – a 50,000 acre Kenyan wildlife refuge, the ZEITZ foundation advocate an approach that balances Conservation, Community, Culture and Commerce, ‘geared towards delivering tangible and sustainable benefits for land, wildlife and rural communities’. When Simon worked for a safari company in Botswana as a conservation biologist, they adopted this model and thought carefully about how their initiatives could navigate these different considerations.
We think through the 4 Cs as they apply to Lenzie Moss. I have learned a lot about the conservation work here and understand the reasons for the installation of the dams, fences and pathways; the rewetting of the bog after centuries of peat extraction has transformed this place in the last two decades. I have also got to know, and to be part of the community that visits and uses the Moss; and I have come to think of the relationships that create this place extending beyond the human to include all the various lives that are entangled here. I now understand the culture here, too. From the school children and dog walkers to the naturalists and foragers, and all the professional and voluntary work that goes on here, there are various codes and conventions, traditions and histories, that make this place what it is.
As Simon acknowledges, commerce is often the hardest C to reconcile with a place like this. When I walked with Stewart, he took a pragmatic and unromantic position on this. The ongoing maintenance and protection of this site needs to be funded from somewhere, and for Stewart, relying entirely on tax-funded council grants may not be the most sustainable model. The site itself has a history of exploitation for commercial gain, but practised sensitively with decisions guided by sustainability, could commercialisation make a positive contribution here?
As we walk, various flora and fauna grab our attention and I expect Simon to share his ecological knowledge. But he is a landscape and large animal conservationist, he tells me that he is ‘a terrible naturalist’. So, while we stop to explore the willow trees, meadow pipits and bog cotton, neither of us can claim any great authority on the more-than-human community here. We are both in the role of learners again, listening to the birdsong and looking out over the bog.
Our conversation returns to the film idea again, and this time I have a go at answering Simon’s earlier question. What do I want to get out of this project? I want people to know about this incredible place. I want people to understand how important environments like this are. I want people to be excited, moved and inspired by the birch and the kestrels and the roe deer and the sphagnum. I want people to recognise that it’s their responsibility to protect fragile landscapes. I want people to take action – to write, walk, campaign, volunteer. I want people to care.
Perhaps all that is too much for a short film. But it’s something to start with. How would we tell a story like this? I like the idea that the film could follow me walking round the site, but that each stage of the square (it’s a square really, not a circle) would be in a different season: autumn through the south woods; winter up Bea’s path; spring through the north woods; and summer down the boardwalk. I tell Simon about my plan to invite everyone who has ever walked with me to join for the 100th walk next summer. Perhaps that event could be filmed and the story could be about the need for communities to come together.
So the film would be about conservation – the careful and committed work of giving this place its best chance to thrive. It would also be about community – the people I have met and spent time with as I have circled the Moss. And the film would be part of the rich culture of this place – a way of sharing the joy and creativity of this project. And as for commerce… well, we just need to get some funding now!
