Lighting the Legends: A Scottish Castle Adventure

By Mike Butler  |  Architectural Photographer & Visual Storyteller

As visual makers, we often find a niche and cling to it — for better or worse.  For me, it has always been about light. Curating it. Controlling it. Shaping it until it bends to the story I want to tell.
That obsession has fueled a career that’s endured for decades, but it’s also cost me clients, sometimes for something as simple as a shadow.

Over the years, the photography world shifted towards a flatter, softer aesthetic — minimal shadows, muted tones, a style easy to replicate but hard to master with depth.
It’s beautiful in its own way, but I’ve always felt drawn to something richer, more dimensional. Natural light is wonderful, yes — but it’s predictable. I love challenge, control, and the ability to transform a scene completely.

The Dream: Lighting Scotland’s Castles

For years, I dreamed of illuminating ancient Scottish castles under the night sky. Not just photographing them — but lighting them in ways never done before, blending centuries-old stone with modern cinematic techniques.
Life, of course, has a way of delaying dreams. My two incredible kids, born in 2016 and 2018, reshaped my world and slowed the pace of my travel work. But as they’ve grown, so has my urge to step beyond my castle walls and wander again.

This trip was part honeymoon-we-never-took, part 50th birthday, part scouting mission — a multi-tasker’s holiday. Sandra (my wife and eternal optimist) and I flew into Edinburgh with cases of lighting gear, long nights in mind, and a shortlist of castles to capture.

Storm Flora Changes Everything

The morning after arrival, we stopped at a small grocery for supplies. A newspaper headline jumped out:
“Storm Flora – 85+ mph Winds to Hit the UK on Monday.”
Unfortunately, Monday was tomorrow.

Our first planned castle fell through — bad weather, no permissions — but I wasn’t discouraged. Next up: Slains Castle, the crumbling cliff-top fortress said to have inspired Bram Stoker’s Dracula.
That day was miserable: rain, low clouds, and biting wind. Sandra, however, insisted we go. She was right.
Forty minutes later, the skies broke into a golden blaze. The land glowed with texture and shadow. We arrived just minutes before the sun dipped — the castle a mile away down a dirt path.

I ran the mile with a 40-lb backpack, tripod, and drone case — triathlon training paying off. With 15 minutes to spare, I launched the drone.
Back-quartering the sun, I worked angles over the North Sea cliffs, chasing light that felt like molten gold. And then came the hero shot: nightfall, drone-mounted lights, and the castle glowing against a deepening sky.

I have to give credit to my wife yet again for these afternoon shots.  She has insisted correctly so that I need to not just focus on the night, but fill the shoot out with other shots that appeal to a larger audience. We make a good team like that, she helps me see the bigger picture, and I although stubborn can listen!

Battling the Scottish Weather

For the rest of the trip, the weather was fierce. Winds could knock you sideways. Squalls blew in and vanished in minutes. Shooting in Scotland is a bit like mountaineering — you scope your location, then wait for a weather window.
We had five days. The storm had other plans.

In the end, the trip became more of a scouting mission than a full production. I learned something invaluable: here, patience is as important as gear. You can’t just muscle your way through bad weather — you must wait for the land and sky to align.

Why I Shoot at Night

Shooting at night means freedom. I control every light, every shadow, every mood. I’m not at the mercy of the sun, clouds, or fleeting moments. The images stand apart — they’re harder to make, and that challenge keeps me hooked.
In Scotland, even with the storm, those moments when light met stone in perfect harmony made every soaked step worth it.

This trip wasn’t the complete vision I had in mind — but it was the start.
And like the castles I photographed, some dreams take time to fully shape.

All images registered ©2025 Mike Butler