"Let photography be a way for you to envelop yourself in nature.” Photographer Tony in Leigh Woods, Bristol.

There’s a magic quality to Leigh Woods that’s hard to put your finger on. A stone’s throw from the bustling centre of Bristol, you cross the Clifton Suspension Bridge and moments later find yourself in a green oasis. It’s an ancient woodland that is home to a cacophony of species and plants and is a designated national nature reserve.

Perched high above the Avon Gorge, it was once an Iron Age fort and has been used as a refuge through the centuries with its vantage point over the valley. When you meander through its trails, you quickly feel a sense of calm and security, surrounded by looming trees, a feeling that clearly resonated down the centuries.  

It’s easy to forget you’re not in absolute wilderness and surreal to see Bristol’s skyline reappear at times through the branches in the distance. The further you head into the woods, the silence sets in, and you feel entirely immersed. 

And so, we begin The Mordros Project in this special place. On a humid morning, we meet Tony, a photographer, who lives in Bristol, to take us on a walk to his favourite part of the woods ‘Paradise Bottom’.  

Dressed head to toe in black, with elaborate tattoos on his legs and arms, including two huge butterflies on his knees, and with a brooding gaze, Tony strikes quite a figure. His friendly grin and charming manner soon shine through. He’s got his black backpack by his side and shows us the bits of equipment that he uses, chatting about how much he loves his tripod. It’s packed with the precision of a hiker or runner, and you can tell it’s been on adventures. 

He soon steps into the role of walk leader, taking us at speed down a small path that is off the beaten track and easy to miss unless you know where it is. We wind through the woods, past dark glades of pines as he talks passionately about his disdain for tree felling, unless it has a clear purpose.  

When we reach ‘Paradise Bottom’, he slows down the pace, and looking around, we soon discover this place really does live up to its name. We enter a corner of the woods full of fushia foxgloves and giant oak trees.  

Tony points out a spot in an area of shrubbery that has been flattened nearby which is where he envisages the local deer sleep at night. It already feels like we’ve come here with the natural guardian of this little patch of paradise. 

Wading past endless fern bushes, we sit down on wood stumps in a clearing to talk. 

Tony’s journey of connecting with the outdoors has a turning point that is compelling. A few years ago, he worked on a Sea Shepherd ship, a charity patrol intended to stop illegal fishing vessels by boarding them to check their licence. He was recruited as a photographer to capture these experiences, a seemingly exciting opportunity. 

However, what Tony witnessed was harrowing. Vessel after vessel was used as an abattoir for vast amounts of tuna. Captured on his camera, he witnessed endangered hammerhead sharks die a cruel death, caught in the nets and thrown carelessly back into the sea. He recounts that the worst he found were the actual legal fishing boats, who are free to exploit the seas at will. 

These experiences seem to have shaped his approach to nature, wildlife and his photography ever since. Moving from London to Bristol, he cemented his love for spending large amounts of his week outdoors, especially in Leigh Woods, quietly exploring, at peace with his surroundings.  

“For the large amount of time, I'm not taking photos. I'm just absorbing it. I spend more time outside running and just absorbing nature than I do taking photos.” He says. 

Trail running and photography are tools for Tony to be immersed in nature. He talks about witnessing the seasons turning and coming back to the same place over and over, just to spot the tiniest of differences. Whilst running, he regularly scouts locations for a shot and comes back later with his camera. 

Being in Leigh Woods has a visibly positive impact on his wellbeing. He speaks about what a difference being in nature has on his mental health in general. His calm face is illuminated by the morning light, looking up to the sky. The frustration and sadness that he evokes so vividly when talking about his Sea Shepherd experiences, and his anger with other systems like these, seem to fade away when he’s surrounded by greenery.  

This quest for harmony plays a large part in his photography. We’re sitting a few metres from Tony’s favourite tree, a tall oak with ivy growing down one side of it, and we ask about his connection to it.  

“I've been staring at it for years. I've always wanted to take a photo of it, but it's got such a busy background that it's never been worth taking a shot.” He says, 

“One morning, I was really fortunate to come along when I'd been waiting for the fog and then finally there was this huge bank of fog behind it. Having that separation really made it. It's just me arriving at the right time. I can't go over with a smoke machine and try and recreate it.” 

The patient way Tony embraces the uncontrollable elements of nature he’s photographing is refreshing. He’s reminding us to watch what’s happening all around us, to notice how subtly the light shifts and the weather turns. Photography is a state of mind that can help you to slow down and notice the world around you in a distilled and focused way. This is a mentality that goes far beyond the lens.

He believes film photography works particularly well, with the inability to review what you’ve taken immediately and a complete focus on getting that shot. For anyone wanting to have a go, it lends itself well to immersive nature photography (whilst being prohibitively expensive at times). 

Tony regularly waits for half an hour for the perfect light conditions before he presses the shutter on his film camera. You can almost feel this serenity when looking at his photos. He says pointedly, 

“Let photography be a way for you to embrace nature, not of what you can get out of it. It’s a way to surround yourself and envelop yourself in nature. I think anyone will get more benefit from enveloping themselves in their surroundings than trying to grab and dash and post.” 

While widespread access to high quality camera equipment and platforms like Instagram have become an artistic equaliser, Tony’s warning to avoid the ‘grab and dash and post’ mentality is a good reminder to us all. 

His parents first encouraged Tony’s love for photography. He started out by using his dad’s old Olympus OM1 film camera and his mum has influenced him from an early age. He says, 

“She will take so many photos of the family. It's so valuable because her sister died when she was seventeen and they had hardly any photos of her before that point. So, it was only by her realising that all these moments are fleeting, and you do need to capture them.” 

The appreciation for capturing what’s in front of you and not taking it for granted runs deep. He wants everyone to see and experience what's around them fully, whenever they can, to take it in.  

What’s uplifting to see in Tony is the joyful approach he takes to overcoming the overwhelmingly negative feelings he sometimes experiences. Simply, going back to the absolute basics of being childlike in his wonder of the natural world all around us, blocking out the rest. He says emphatically, 

“We’re taught to grow out of playing so early in life. I'm so glad that I spend nine hours a week playing in the form of running or photography or riding my bike. There’s no difference between a kid jumping in a puddle, and me jumping in a puddle on a trail.” 

It’s this innate pleasure of being here which is infectious, and as he takes us on a full tour of ‘Paradise Bottom’, talking animatedly of how beautiful it also looks in winter, you can’t help but be swept up, wanting to return, to see it for yourself.  

Leigh Woods is a perfect place for spotting old trees. Tony loves a Giant Redwood that he points out to us on the tour, thought to have been planted in the 1860s. When he sits next to it, he’s dwarfed by its giant amber trunk.  

He talks about how much he longs for this place when he’s away. It’s like a mental playground he can always go to for clarity of thought. His camera is simply a window to that. He says, 

“I never really care what someone thinks viewing my work. But when I'm setting up a shot, I do think how can I give best service to this tree? How can I make it sing?”  

This respect and admiration for nature is at the heart of his work, the opposite of the destruction he has witnessed. He tries to bring this into everything he does, lamenting in passing about how film is sadly not vegan.  

He has shown us the healing power of photography, a personal redemption of sorts.

Coming back full circle to talking about his experiences at sea, Tony points towards the coast away from the woods. He sailed from a young age and often feels a longing for the sea, especially since Bristol is so close to the channel. It seems to have had a profound impact on his general outlook, 

“I've always struggled to take photos with the sea in because I don't feel like I've ever been able to capture what it's like in my brain. But that's also why I like it because it's like ultra-running and trail running. I want to enter events that I don't know if I'm going to complete.” 

“So that drives me to still find photography interesting. I don't know if I'm ever going to be able to capture the sea as I truly see it.” 

There's a pull which draws us back again to nature, through the seasons, in all elements, to rediscover it anew in whatever form that takes. 

For everyone, this calling feels and looks slightly different, and that’s what makes it so exciting, a never-ending voyage of discovery. 

It’s a sentiment that lingers on after we say goodbye to Tony as he heads off to train for an ultramarathon in Wales, talking about the shots he’ll capture along the way of the stunning landscapes, his hefty backpack of camera gear slung over his shoulder. 

You can find Tony’s work on Instagram @antonyfennphoto and on his website www.antonyfenn.com