In a world filled with fast-paced trends, niche, long-standing hobbies have a special kind of charm. For photographer and director Harry George Hall, the idea of a small group of people skating across frozen fields in East Anglia became a fascination that led him on a journey of discovery.
The project, “Fen Skating,” evolved into something more than a story about a sport—it became one about community, tradition, and connection to the land.
In late 2022, while in Cape Town for a commercial job, Hall discovered a drone shot on Twitter of people skating on a frozen field in rural eastern England. England isn’t known for ice skating because the right conditions are so rare, but the serene image caught his eye. He saved the screenshot and revisited the tweet, which was labeled “Fen Skating.” Intrigued, he dug deeper and found that fen skating is a niche hobby with a small, passionate online community who share tips about where and how it happens.
Fen skating takes its name from the vast area of low-lying, marshy land in the eastern counties of England—Cambridgeshire, Lincolnshire, Norfolk, and Suffolk. Once waterlogged, these fens have since been drained for farmland, but are filled with shallowly flooded fields, waterways, and marshes, making it a unique and often safer environment for skating than frozen lakes or ponds. The ice that forms on these waterways is delicate and fleeting, yet it offers skaters a rare and serene experience, surrounded by frosty grassland and vast, open skies.
By the time Hall returned to the UK, temperatures had risen, but his interest in fen skating had only deepened. As a photographer, he was drawn to people's stories, and the simplicity of fen skating—people gathering in nature to enjoy an age-old activity—fascinated him. The joyful images he'd seen online, bathed in soft morning light, were contagious, and Hall was eager to meet the skaters, hear their stories, and understand their passion for the practice.
After several trips to East Anglia, Hall finally found the perfect conditions: a frozen field, early morning light, and a handful of skaters ready to take to the ice. He captured the rare, serene beauty of the scene, with frozen waterways framed by frosty grass, all bathed in the soft glow of the morning light. The skaters, their faces tinged with the chill of the early hours, looked content as they glided across the ice.
Through his research, Hall also discovered the deep history of fen skating, which dates back to medieval times. It was particularly popular during the 17th century when metal blades were introduced to the practice. Before that, people used sharpened animal bones attached to boots. Hall’s photos reflect the connection to this rich history, providing a glimpse into a tradition that has largely been forgotten.
But perhaps the most striking part of the project for Hall was the strong sense of community he witnessed among the skaters—NHS workers, farmers, speed skaters, and even ice hockey players—gathering not just to skate, but to connect with one another. Fen skating, with its unpredictable window of opportunity based on the weather, makes each day on the ice feel all the more precious.
As one skater, Richard, put it: “Fen skating is like life, enjoy it while you can.”
