The shepherds searching for rare predators
High in the rolling Albanian mountains, where the valley gives way to idyllic pastures with wildflowers stretching far and wide, two shepherds are watching the sunrise.
These shepherds have come from many generations of shepherds before them who grazed their livestock in this valley. But fewer and fewer generations of Albanians are choosing this livelihood.
One of those shepherds, Urim Mana, thinks of the tranquil landscape of Albania's Shebenik National Park as his home. Each morning, he embarks on a journey to his herd of 20 livestock. He moves through worn dirt paths, noting each plant nestled into rocky crevices and any new prints left by prowling carnivores - signs of potential threats from which he ensures his herd is protected.
Mana has been managing his livestock for two years, willingly following in the footsteps of his forefathers. “This profession has been passed down in our family since my grandfather,” he says. “It's been in our family for around 30 years.”
As he performs his daily ritual, meandering along the beaten path, the sun begins to crest over the mountaintops and the air stills for a moment. Mana stops in his tracks. Placing his feed bucket on a low-lying rock he leans down to inspect a bear print in the earth. This one is several days old - it hasn't rained recently and so the earth has been too hard to leave a print.
Shepherds like Mana continue to face mounting challenges. More and more people are choosing to move away from this traditional way of life, resulting in a loss of tradition and generations of ecological knowledge which could benefit current conservation efforts. “It's seen as hard work and very repetitive,” he says. “It seems simpler not to do it because it demands dedication. In other words, it's a 24-hour job.”