Having been awarded best image in the 2024 Natural Landscape Photography Awards, I thought it was only fair to share the story here. The following words were published in the book NLPA book.
I think most of us are inspired by the natural world, and if not, just wait until you’ve finished this book! From a casual glance, landscape photography may appear to be about places, yet I’ve found myself most inspired looking inwards. That’s not because it’s all about me, I rarely like to be thrown into the limelight. It’s because I find the landscape reflects ourselves so gracefully. It grows, adapts and struggles as we do, it has a story waiting to be told, it’s the story that we all share.
I rarely begin a journey with the aim of chasing an obvious photo at the end. When I have, I’ve usually been disappointed with the results. It’s as if I feel pressured to come up with something good, rather than something meaningful or personal. As a child I explored nature simply for the enjoyment of being there, and that still underlies my photography today. The difference now is that I’ve learned to see in a different way, it’s not just about my surroundings, it’s also about interpreting the feelings that come along with them.
This photograph was taken in a local forest about an hour from my home in Victoria, Australia. It’s a place I feel personally connected to, having criss-crossed its steep slopes on foot, mountain bike and horseback. I’ve been swimming, camping and climbing. I’ve navigated by compass, explored waterways and occasionally been lost. To some, the area may be better known by a local colloquialism “Things are crook in Tallarook”, but I think that’s a little unfair.
I’ll admit it was cold, wet and foggy on the morning I made this photo, but that’s not exactly a ‘crook’ day in my book. Having wandered down an old dirt track, I arrived at a dam surrounded by gums. As I stood there photographing a thick mist moving through the trees, my hair and jacket became soaked as water fell from the leaves above. The falling drips formed patterns on the water’s surface. They looked like musical ripples, visual tunes playing in real time, teasing the figures reflected behind. I made several compositions as I learned where the music would play with each passing of a gentle breeze.
Tallarook may not be on the world stage, but I think this photograph represents the idea that places don’t have to be known, they don’t have to be grand. They can just have meaning to you.
As it happens, I wrote a poem inspired by my time in Australia’s southern landscapes, with Tallarook in front of mind, so it seems fitting to share it here:
Nature sways with inspiration,
gentle whispers in the breeze.
Leaves floating in the air,
twisted limbs,
tangled trees.
Dew falls,
shivering,
shifting moods,
our struggles shared.
A fiery day withers and fades, and
on my soul writes nature’s ways.