
There are few wildlife encounters in Britain quite as charming as watching a puffin land, waddle a few steps and disappear down a burrow with a beak full of sand eels. Get it right and you can spend an hour in their company without them paying you the slightest attention. Get it wrong and you will see the whole colony flinch. The difference comes down to a handful of habits that are easy to learn and worth mastering.
Puffins are remarkably tolerant birds, which is precisely why they are so vulnerable to well-meaning visitors. A colony on a busy cliff-top path can absorb a certain amount of footfall, but every extra metre you creep closer eats into the energy budget the birds need for raising a single chick. That chick, known as a puffling, gets one chance each summer.
The birds' responses to disturbance are subtle. A puffin that is relaxed will preen, doze, or bustle about its business. A bird that is worried will stand tall and stare, flick its head, gape, shuffle away or abandon a landing altogether. If you see that, you are too close, full stop. Move back slowly and settle down again.
As a rule of thumb, stay on the marked path and keep your distance from any grassy bank that could hide a burrow. On cliff-top reserves, that often means staying several metres back from the edge, which is safer for you as well as the birds.
Puffins arrive at their colonies from late March, but the real spectacle runs from late April to early August. May and June are the sweet spot: the birds are busy, the days are long, and the beaks are at their brightest orange.
Overcast, still days with a low sun give the clearest views. Wind and rain send the birds to sea, and a stiff onshore breeze will keep you squinting at an empty cliff.
Puffin burrows are not always obvious. On flat, grassy clifftops they look like rabbit holes, often clustered in loose colonies among sea campion, thrift and coarse tussock grass. The soft turf above them is easily compacted or collapsed by a boot, and a caved-in burrow means a lost chick.
Look for the signs before you tread anywhere: pale, fishy-smelling guano around entrance holes, worn earth ramps, and a low purring or growling sound drifting up from below, which is the sound of a puffin at home. Where a bank looks like a honeycomb of holes, treat the whole area as off limits and view from the path edge.
Remember that puffins also nest in rocky crevices and among boulders on some islands, so keep to established routes even where the ground looks bare and solid.
You do not need to get close to get a good look. A pair of 8x42 or 10x42 binoculars will fill your view with a puffin from twenty or thirty metres away, which is exactly what you want. A spotting scope on a tripod turns a distant raft on the water into a study of individual birds, and it is the single best tool for a respectful visit.
Boat trips are a wonderful way to see puffins rafting offshore, particularly around islands where landings are restricted. Choose an operator that holds a steady distance, does not chase rafts and does not approach burrow banks head-on. Watching from the water is often the closest view you will get without causing any disturbance at all.
On land, seek out the viewpoints that wardens have already established: a headland, a hide, a stretch of clifftop path with a clear line of sight down to the colony. These spots exist because they work, keeping people and birds comfortably apart.
Take everything home with you, including crumbs and apple cores, which draw in gulls and rats that raid burrows. Shut gates, stay behind any rope or fence line, and follow the instructions given at a landing point without treating them as optional.
Above all, be patient. Sit down, get comfortable and let the colony forget you are there. Within ten minutes the birds will resume their comings and goings, and you will have the kind of hour that stays with you for years.
Hi, my name is Anthony kuber. I am artist and fashion designer.
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