The First Encounter

I’ll never forget my first real sighting of a wild Kentish beaver—it was over a decade ago. It was dusk: soft light, golden haze, the kind of scene every wildlife photographer hopes for. But at the time, I didn’t own a camera. I was out fishing for chub with my dad.

Dad was upstream and suddenly called me on the phone to say an otter was heading my way. Neither of us had ever seen one before, so this was a big moment. The sighting had clearly caught him off guard—he’d seen a large brown mammal swimming through the river. At the time, a beaver in Kent felt utterly impossible. Surely not?

With huge anticipation, I watched the water, scanning the edges as my dad stayed on the line. I remember saying, “I must have missed it...” But then, just seconds later—though it felt like an eternity—the mammal swam past, turning in the shallow current right below my feet.

It was belly-up, gliding effortlessly over the gravel of the clear chalk stream. I caught a glimpse of large white teeth and a wide, paddle-shaped tail. This was no otter. I was convinced I’d just seen a beaver. But that couldn’t be, not in Kent.

The Beaver rolled to its front and slipped downstream, gliding over ranunculus beds and disappearing into the fading light. My adrenaline was surging. I remember saying to my dad, “Are you sure you saw an otter?”

Back then, the very idea of beavers in the South East was considered absurd. Everyone thought they were confined to a few remote sites in Scotland. But then we cast our minds back—those oddly felled trees along the path? We’d assumed the Environment Agency had been working in the area. But now, looking back, the angled cuts were classic signs of beaver activity. We just didn’t know what we were looking at.

It wasn’t until 18 April 2022 at 18:45, after more than a year of returning to the same site and watching closely near a suspected lodge, that I finally captured my first beaver photograph. That moment was the culmination of a decade’s curiosity, research, patience, and hard work. A journey that started with a fishing rod in hand—and ended with a camera trained on a species I once believed I’d never see.

Life on Pause, Nature in Focus

During the long months of the UK’s first COVID-19 lockdown, the world slowed down—and so did I. Like many, I found myself craving meaning, purpose, connection. But unlike many, I found mine in the quiet world of wildlife. With travel restricted, I began learning everything I could from my small patch of local woodland—and from YouTube.

That was where it really started. I spent hours studying wildlife photography tutorials, learning my way around my first DSLR— a Canon 70D. Every spare moment I could get out, I did. I practised tracking robins in hedgerows, experimented with light and shutter speed on squirrels and wrens. That small woodland became my classroom. Those early walks taught me patience, persistence, and how to set up my own woodland photo blind and wildlife area.

By the time restrictions began to ease, I had a new drive. I wasn’t just photographing for the sake of it anymore—I was ready for a project. And for me, there was only one animal that came to mind: the elusive, quietly revolutionary return of the beaver.

I began scouting rivers I’d grown up near, this time with a different perspective. I wasn’t fishing—I was tracking signs. Chewed stems, mudslides, water levels. It was subtle work, often slow, but I was hooked. What started as a lockdown escape had turned into something much bigger: a personal mission to find and photograph wild beavers in Kent.

And somewhere along the way, something changed in me. I wasn’t just taking photos—I was building a relationship with place, with story, with the land slowly healing itself.

Look at all the sticks collected by the Beavers a clear sign they are present.

One of many mudslides with prints and lots of evidence of Beavers feeding.

Beaver leaving sent, also known as ‘musk’ it smells a little like maple syrup.

Life at the Water’s Edge -The Long Wait Pays Off

After countless hours scouting, researching, and returning to likely habitats, I eventually stumbled upon a location I, unfortunately, can’t disclose—partly due to the sensitive nature of the site, and partly out of respect for the beavers who’ve made their home there. It’s an active lodge site, a rare and special thing in Kent, and it was covered in signs: runs down to the water, well-worn slides, and trees felled with that unmistakable precision. Chewed branches littered the banks, and then there was the smell—a sweet, earthy maple musk, lingering in the air from territorial scent marking. This is castoreum, a natural secretion produced by beavers, used to mark their territory and communicate with others. It was the beavers' calling card. A scent I’ve since learned to recognize—one so familiar now that I knew I was close. So close. But still, no sighting. Over 20 visits passed with nothing. Just signs. Just clues. Still, I kept going back. If you've seen the video on my YouTube channel, you'll know the exact spot I chose—set up looking upstream toward a slow river bend, the evening sun streaming in golden and low. I felt this was the one.

That evening, my dad joined me. The same person who, a decade earlier, had mistaken a beaver for an otter in disbelief. We were back at the river’s edge again, this time with knowledge, hope, and sharper eyes.

He raised his Swarovski binoculars, scanned the bend—and suddenly froze.

“Beaver!” he exclaimed.

There it was. A beaver. Drifting effortlessly in the current, almost invisible, perfectly camouflaged in the amber light and water shadows. Adapted so well to evade detection, to slip past unnoticed. But we had found it. It drifted toward the far bank and began feeding—check out the footage on my YouTube—using its powerful jaws to strip branches from overhanging trees like it had done this forever.

Then it climbed ashore, right between two trees.

And there it was. The moment.

I coudnt’t believe my luck this was the dream shot and the first time I had photographed them at this location.

It turned—exactly where I had envisioned it would, framed just as I’d hoped. My mind’s eye had become reality. A wild animal doing exactly what I dreamed it might. I snapped the shot and paused to take it in. Then… as if the evening wasn’t already remarkable, a second beaver surfaced mid-river—this one swimming directly toward us.

I didn’t panic. I gently cushioned the sound of the Canon 7D Mark II’s “silent” shutter with my arm. At the time, I was using my trusty Sigma 150–600mm Sport lens, and it gave me the reach and control to carefully compose the frame as the beaver kept coming—closer, and closer—until it filled the viewfinder, just as I’d hoped.

In wildlife photography, it’s rare for one thing to go right. For two moments like that to unfold in a single evening? Unheard of.

What a moment. What a privilege.

Moments Between 2022 and Now: Getting to Know the Beavers

Between 2022 and today, I was lucky enough to photograph a distinctive individual I believe to be female — a Eurasian beaver identifiable by a unique feature: a single vertical whisker on the right side of her muzzle. This kind of facial detail is important in beaver anatomy, as their whiskers (vibrissae) are highly sensitive tactile hairs that help them navigate underwater and on land. Spotting such a distinct marker helped me get to know her routine intimately.

Throughout 2023, I spent many hours following and photographing this beaver, as well as some kits. One day in particular stands out — an epic close encounter that unfolded entirely unscripted right before my eyes. I was filming live at the time, and the footage captures the raw magic of those moments. If you want to experience that day, please check out the video on my YouTube channel: Beaver Encounter 2023.

I also visited St. Raddigan’s in 2023, with some early morning success. What amazed me was how many people simply walk by on their daily commute, oblivious to the remarkable wildlife just meters away. Both humans and beavers went about their business, with Canterbury town and its cathedral chimes forming the soundtrack. I vividly remember reflecting on the cathedral bells — the unmistakable sound of a pertain call — while watching and photographing a beaver nearby. It was a surreal and deeply moving moment.

In 2024, I was determined to capture a photograph that truly showcased the size of the Eurasian beaver. For reference, adult beavers typically measure between 80 to 100 cm (31 to 39 inches) in body length, with a tail adding another 25 to 40 cm (10 to 16 inches), and they can weigh up to 30 kg (66 pounds). I knew such a shot had to be taken on land to appreciate their full stature.

On March 29th, as the river rose, I managed to get an obscured photo of a beaver on the bank, as well as another taken from behind — both still valuable record shots and a great opportunity to study its behavior. Several attempts to get a clearer image followed, but in between, on February 3rd, I was rewarded with an incredible surprise: a white-tailed eagle (G542) made an appearance at an undisclosed location. (Attach image here: Canon R7, 100-400mm + 1.4x extender, 560mm, f/11, 1/40 sec, ISO 500.)

It wasn’t until May 18th that I finally got the shot I’d been waiting for — a beaver feeding on grass on the riverbank.

Beavers Breed in Cantabury town: A New Generation

The BBC had publicised that beavers had bred successfully in Canterbury, so after letting any potential crowds subside for a few weeks, I returned to see them for myself. What I witnessed was a wonderful scene of young beavers feeding on logs, playfully tumbling into the river with splashy abandon.

Watching these young beavers, so full of energy and life, was a beautiful reminder of the resilience of nature and the success of conservation efforts in Kent.

A New Sight for Beaver Enthusiasts: Cantabury town

The magic of Kent’s beavers continues to unfold, and with more sightings becoming public, there’s a new spot drawing attention: Cantabury town. Nestled along the banks of a quiet river home to the beavers, this accessible location has quickly become one of the best places to observe these magnificent creatures in their natural habitat.

Visit Details:

Location: Cantabury town
Best Time to Visit: Dusk and dawn are optimal, as beavers are most active during the low light of early morning or late evening. The golden hues of the sun cast a magical glow, perfect for wildlife photography.

For those who share a passion for wildlife and conservation, this site offers an exciting opportunity to witness the incredible beavers up close. Patience and dedication here can reward you with unforgettable memories—and maybe even some fantastic photographs. Please remember to be respectful of these magnificent creatures at all times especially during the breeding season and while young kits are in the river.

Also they can be anywhere along the stretch so don’t be afraid to go looking for them along the path.

Share the Magic: Bump Into Me

If you’re out photographing or quietly observing the beavers, there’s a good chance you’ll bump into me. I’m often scouting or capturing footage of Kent’s beaver population in Cantabury. It’s always a pleasure to meet fellow wildlife enthusiasts, photographers, or anyone curious about these remarkable animals. Don’t be shy—come say hello! You might even join me in experiencing the magic of these creatures, and who knows, we could snap some great shots together.

Looking to the Future: Conservation and Hope

While cantabury town is a fantastic new discovery for beaver enthusiasts, there’s still much to be done to secure their future in Kent and beyond. The return of beavers is not just about a wildlife sighting—it’s part of a larger, inspiring conservation story.

Beavers are ecosystem engineers. Their presence helps prevent flooding, improves water quality, and encourages biodiversity. They create and restore habitats that benefit countless species, making them a vital part of healthy ecosystems.

As we celebrate the joy of witnessing these incredible creatures, we must also focus on their long-term survival. Organizations like The Beaver Trust and Kent Wildlife Trust have played essential roles in supporting beaver reintroduction and habitat protection. Continued efforts are needed to safeguard their future and the habitats they help flourish.

Beavers stand as symbols of hope for biodiversity’s future. Their success here in Kent shows what’s possible when humans and nature work together.

By sharing stories, raising awareness, and supporting conservation initiatives, we can help build a stronger, more sustainable future for Kent’s beavers and the wider environment. The beavers’ story is a powerful reminder that positive change is possible—and it’s up to all of us to keep pushing for it.

Conclusion: Reflection on a Decade of Discovery

Looking back over the past decade, from that very first unexpected sighting to now, I’m filled with awe and gratitude. The journey with Kent’s beavers has been one of patience, perseverance, and deepening respect for these extraordinary creatures. Watching them thrive, adapting and shaping their environment, reminds me why conservation matters—not just for the species themselves but for the entire ecosystem they support.

The beavers’ return is a symbol of hope and renewal, proof that nature can recover and flourish when given a chance. Their presence enriches our rivers, our landscapes, and our lives. It’s also a personal journey—a bond formed between a photographer, a naturalist, and the wild.

I hope this story inspires you to look more closely at the nature around you, to cherish the small wonders often overlooked, and to join in protecting the fragile balance of our natural world. Whether you come to St. Raddigan’s or watch from afar, the magic of beavers is something worth celebrating—and safeguarding—for generations to come.

Thank you for sharing in this journey. Here’s to many more years of discovery, connection, and wild moments at the water’s edge.

Follow the Journey

This is far from the end of the story.

As Kent’s beavers continue to shape and enrich the landscape, I’ll be right there with them—camera in hand, heart wide open, sharing every twist, turn, and ripple along the way. I’ll continue documenting their lives through photography, film, and story as their return to our rivers unfolds in real time.

Recently, I’ve made two return trips to my original, undisclosed river location. Although I didn’t spot a beaver on those visits, the signs are clear—fresh chew marks, slides, and scent mounds tell me they’re still there, quietly going about their work. It’s these clues, this anticipation, that keep the passion alive.

If you’ve enjoyed this journey so far, I invite you to follow along as the adventure continues:
📸 Instagram: @dpeters92_wildlife
🎥 YouTube: Dave Peters Photography

Together, let’s celebrate the wild, support its return, and share the magic—one ripple at a time.

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The Beavers of Kent: A Decade-Long Journey in the Wild