This photograph holds a significance for me that it almost certainly wouldn’t have without the presence of the causeway linking South Uist and Eriskay. It’s a scene shaped as much by human influence as by the natural beauty of the surrounding landscape. The causeway, with its subtle lines and understated presence, anchors the image, giving it a sense of purpose and narrative that the untouched expanse of water and land alone couldn’t provide.

What captivates me about this man-made structure is its quiet defiance. It weaves through the rugged beauty of the Hebrides, connecting islands and lives, carving a path through an otherwise wild and untamed landscape. Without it, the photograph would still capture a beautiful scene, but the causeway transforms it into something more—it becomes a story of connection, resilience, and the coexistence of human effort and nature’s grandeur.

The causeway’s influence extends beyond the physical; it creates a striking juxtaposition. On one side, you have the raw, untamed beauty of the sea and sky—forces that have shaped these islands for millennia. On the other, you see the subtle assertion of humanity, a reminder that we too leave our mark, even in places as remote as South Uist and Eriskay. The structure doesn’t dominate the frame, but it gives the image its focus, a clear point of interest amidst the vastness of the Hebridean landscape.

In many ways, this photograph is as much about people as it is about place. It’s about the connection the causeway represents, both physically between the islands and metaphorically between nature and human effort. Without the causeway, the scene might have been serene, even beautiful—but for me, it’s the presence of this unassuming, practical structure that elevates the image, giving it depth and meaning that lingers far beyond the moment it was captured.