Photographing Tranquility: A Journey Through Tiree and Coll
As a professional landscape photographer, I’m often asked what draws me to particular locations. Is it the light, the geography, or the remoteness? Sometimes it’s all three—and never has that been more true than on my recent visit to the Scottish islands of Tiree and Coll. These small Hebridean isles, perched on the edge of the Atlantic, offered something I rarely find in such abundance: space, silence, and sky.
Getting There: A Journey to the Edge
Reaching Tiree and Coll is no small undertaking, and that’s part of their magic. From Oban on the west coast of Scotland, it’s a four-hour ferry journey across waters that range from glass-calm to moodily tempestuous. There’s also a tiny airport on Tiree, welcoming flights from Glasgow, Oban, and Coll itself. These transport links are not just conveniences for visitors—they are lifelines for the local communities, connecting them to the mainland for goods, services, and travel. On islands like these, ferries and planes are more than infrastructure; they are part of the social and cultural fabric, crucial threads that bind the people of the Hebrides to one another and the wider world.
First Impressions: Space, Air, and Silence
My base during my stay on Tiree was the Alan Stevenson House, a warm and welcoming place steeped in island history. Named after the famous lighthouse engineer, it once housed the workers who built the Skerryvore Lighthouse—the tallest in Scotland—which stands alone out at sea, a symbol of endurance against Atlantic storms. From the house, I could see the vast openness that defines Tiree. There are no woodlands here, and only three notable hills rise gently from an otherwise level terrain. This lack of visual obstruction creates a sensation that’s hard to put into words: it feels like the horizon goes on forever.
Tiree’s nickname, “the land below the waves,” is apt. It feels suspended between sea and sky, grounded in history but constantly reshaped by the wind and light. The air is remarkably pure, and silence here is something profound. The loudest noises tend to be natural ones—waves sighing against white sand beaches, the call of seabirds, or the wind whistling across the dunes.
The Island Light: A Photographer’s Dream
From a photographic standpoint, Tiree is a dreamland. The light here is something special. Long days of sunshine—Tiree is one of the sunniest places in the UK—combine with the reflective qualities of sand and sea to create a luminous environment. The sky becomes a dynamic canvas, shifting from bright blues to brooding greys and fire-lit oranges depending on the time of day and the weather rolling in from the Atlantic.
The wide, flat land allows for expansive compositions. Without trees or buildings to interrupt the view, I found myself composing scenes that truly celebrated negative space—letting the vastness speak. Big skies dominate every image, and as any landscape photographer will know, skies tell stories: of weather, of movement, of time passing.
One morning I set out before dawn and was rewarded with a gentle pastel sunrise that seemed to go on for hours. The stillness of that moment, broken only by the occasional oyster catcher or the distant rumble of surf, remains one of my most cherished memories from the trip. Later in the day, dramatic clouds would sweep in, giving an entirely different mood to the same beach—moody, elemental, timeless.
Windswept Wonders
Tiree is known for its wind, and though I experienced a few calm days, the ever-present breeze gave life to the landscape. It shaped the dunes, set the grasses dancing, and pushed waves across the surface of the sea in mesmerising patterns. The wind here is not just a feature—it’s a character. It keeps midges away in summer (a welcome benefit), and it draws surfers and windsurfers from around the world. Each October, the island hosts the Tiree Wave Classic, the UK’s most prestigious windsurfing competition. While my visit didn’t coincide with the event, the legacy of adventure sports was apparent in the energy of those few visitors I met on the beaches, boards under arms, ready to ride.
Life on the Edge: The Island Communities
What stood out most during my time on both islands was the profound resilience and hospitality of the people who call these places home. Life on the edge of the Hebrides is not easy. The weather is unpredictable, services limited, and the sense of isolation can be intense. And yet, the communities here are strong, proud, and deeply connected to the land and sea that sustain them.
I was struck by the stories I heard at the heritage centres in Scarinish and Hynish. These places do an incredible job of preserving the past—crofting tools, Gaelic songs, tales of shipwrecks and survival. They speak to a way of life that has endured, adapted, and thrived in the face of adversity. The crofting heritage, the intimate connection to seasonal rhythms, and the gentle pace of island life were deeply moving.
Coll: Wild, Quiet, and Rich in Life
Though Tiree was the primary focus of my trip, I also managed a brief but profoundly rewarding excursion to the neighbouring Isle of Coll. Slightly more rugged and less populated than Tiree, Coll is equally rich in photographic potential. With its rocky coastlines, secluded bays, and a sense of untamed isolation, it offers a different kind of beauty—wilder, more elemental. The island feels untouched, as if time itself moves at a gentler pace here. It’s a haven for birdlife and home to several nature reserves. I was fortunate to catch a glimpse of the elusive corncrake, whose distinctive rasping call echoed across the meadows—an unforgettable moment for any naturalist or photographer.
But the absolute highlight of my time on Coll—and one of the most memorable experiences of my entire winter—was photographing the Cairns of Coll. Nestled in the heart of this quiet island, the Cairns offer a scene of breathtaking, almost otherworldly beauty. Surrounded by sweeping, heather-clad hills and an ever-changing sky, the landscape opened up like a vast natural amphitheatre. Every direction I turned offered a new composition, a new story in stone and light. The air was so crisp and clean, it felt almost charged, and the silence was complete, broken only by the soft crunch of my boots on the rocky path and the occasional call of a distant bird.
The joy I felt here was pure. I found myself completely absorbed—working slowly, deliberately, waiting for the light to slide across the land just right, to cast long shadows and ignite the subtle colours of the moorland. The textures, the space, the sculptural quality of the cairns themselves—all came together in what felt like a perfectly orchestrated harmony of natural elements. There was a tangible sense of timelessness here, a sacred quiet that made each shutter click feel significant.
Photographically, it was one of those rare experiences where everything aligns—the location, the weather, the light, and your own state of mind. I left the Cairns of Coll not just with a full memory card, but with the kind of creative satisfaction that stays with you long after you’ve packed away the camera. It’s a place that speaks not only to the eye but to the soul, and it reminded me why I do what I do.
Final Thoughts: A Place That Leaves Its Mark
Tiree and Coll left a lasting impression on me. Its openness, its clarity of light, and its deep stillness have changed the way I think about photography—and perhaps, even, about life. There’s a rhythm here that seeps into your bones. You stop rushing. You start watching. Listening.
I came to these islands to photograph landscapes, but I left with more than images. I left with memories of long, light-filled days, skies that made me feel small in the best way possible, and a renewed respect for the people who make their lives in these far-flung corners of Scotland. Tiree and Coll are places where you can hear yourself think. Where you can breathe deeply. Where, for a little while, you can be completely present.
It is a rare and special thing to find a place that slows you down and reminds you of what truly matters. For anyone seeking beauty, peace, and the kind of inspiration that fills the soul as well as the camera, Tiree and Coll are waiting.
