tree

Our pho­to expe­di­tion through the bush was an incom­pa­ra­ble expe­ri­ence. Day­long dri­ves on slow tracks, the scout­ing of sites mapped before, the cross­ing of the wilder­ness, learn­ing about vast diver­si­ty, expe­ri­enc­ing nat­ur­al beau­ty. Mak­ing camp late for eight, for eat­ing, for pho­tos of noc­tur­nal obscu­ri­ty. We searched for the star­ry desert nights, yet the trip went through sum­mer rain, the night’s silken out­back light obscured by the unsea­son­ably blan­ket of cloud. When the weath­er clears the noc­tur­nal space is ampli­fied by soli­tude, a sil­hou­et­ted expanse lin­ger­ing between domes­tic feel­ing dune crests and spher­i­cal hori­zons, the void seem­ing­ly untouched by man — an unerr­ing pres­ence of ancient time. The light of the cos­mos ren­ders a uni­form glob­al panora­ma. Day­light is shin­ing inwards, night­light mov­ing out­wards; lit­tle light denies colour, no light denies space.