Like birds, wildlife and Tasmania’s diverse weather, my photography can be unpredictable. I can take 400 shots in a day, or go a week without taking any. I have no genre I’m focused on, I love to challenge myself to capture what-ever comes my way. The last two day’s I’ve seen some magic light at dusk over the mountain but by the time I can stop somewhere to grab the shot, the magic had gone.
Often when I hear black cockatoos squawking in the valley, they won’t come near or when they do, I don’t have a camera handy and they go before I can grab one. This bird toyed with me for half an hour, hiding around the other side of a bottle-brush tree next to our deck, watching me through the branches, as I watched him.
Sometimes you get that shot, more often than not you don’t but it’s still an experience, the thrill of the hunt. Sometimes I get disappointed that I missed a shot, but I’m never disappointed with that life experience, a memory to be personally savored, but not shared. That’s life.