Some glorious evening light in the unforgiving High Country.

In early 2024 I spent some time in Victoria’s High Country. It was an unfamiliar yet rewarding environment to explore—with striped snow gums and towering granite tors.

I was scouting locations to revisit in winter when I stumbled on this striking tree. So I waited for the midday sun to dip behind a cloud as the softer light shaped this storied snow gum.

Sweeping sand dunes illuminated on golden hour.

With waterfalls, my first instinct was always to capture the grand scene. To stick with a wide-angle lens and frame a striking stream leading through to the falls as the centrepiece.

Yet I’ve found myself becoming more drawn to smaller scenes within the frame.

They’re not as grand as their wide-angle counterparts. But they do present one of photography’s most rewarding challenges. To distil the essence of an experience into a single, simplified shot.

So on a trip out to The Grampians, I simply took my 70-200mm telephoto on the hike down to the falls. While it was challenging at first, I soon began to notice frames within the falls—focussing on this particular cascade and freezing it at one quarter of a second.

I had set off before dawn to photograph the trees of the Yarra Ranges. Only to find the way to my hike padlocked and closed for winter.

With daybreak fast approaching, I took a gamble on an unexplored expanse of native forest. (And as you can already tell by this frame, I’m stoked I did.)

As I waded through the undergrowth the rising sun began to ignite the morning mist. First in a deep scarlet, then shifting to a golden glow that illuminated the forest.

Us landscape photographers often talk about stunning sunrises and magical moments. (And I can be as guilty of hyperbole as most.)

But in that moment I found myself overwhelmed with pure awe at the scene unfolding around me. I composed myself to fire off a few frames, with this one easily climbing to the top of my portfolio.

So to mix metaphors, when two roads diverge in the woods, follow the light.

This is Australia, but you wouldn’t know it. Deep in Victoria’s Great Otway National Park pockets of ancient forest remain, where gnarled beech trees reign eternal.

The main 12 Apostles lookout offers sweeping views of the coast, yet there are only so many angles of the apostles before all images start to look the same. Here’s what they look like from the other side.

When photographing waterfalls, it’s tempting to use a wide-angle lens and include the entirety of the falls. But often, there are equally impressive hidden gems, waiting to be isolated and captured.
So on a trip out to The Grampians, I simply took my 70-200mm telephoto on the hike down to the falls. While it was challenging at first, I soon began to notice frames within the falls—focussing on this particular cascade and freezing it at one quarter of a second.

After six months apart, my dad and I went on a photography road trip along Victoria’s Great Ocean Road. Our first mission was to photograph the wild koalas down at Cape Otway, nestled in the manna gum bushland. In the late afternoon light this little guy was as curious about us as we were about him.

Unfurling tree ferns. Drifting fog. Stands of towering mountain ash. Shifting sunbeams. This is Victoria’s Yarra Ranges at its absolute finest, wandering deep through the Black Spur.

As the river weaved out to sea, it carved these channels and islands in its wake. A tiny landscape of light and shadow set to be washed away as the next wave reclaimed the land.

With a howling easterly blasting through, it sculpted these shifting sands—forming corrugated waves and peaks several stories high. I stumbled on this sculpted trio nestled beside a larger dune that offered partial respite from the tempest. I ducked down, kept the tripod low and snapped a few frames before the sun dipped out of sight.

My pick of images from a glorious sunrise session in the wild and wonderful Yarra Ranges National Park. Using my 100-400mm Sony telephoto lens I captured a range of forest details, focusing in on the subtleties of forms and dappled light.

Along the Cape Woolamai trail local wildlife greeted me at each turn, with flocks of ibis, soaring albatross and curious wallabies watching me through the scrub. As the sun set, scores of shearwaters glided over the Southern Ocean, taking in one last catch before returning to their burrows on the Cape.

Over the holidays I showed my Dad around the Yarra Ranges – a location I feel at complete ease getting lost in. And so we were fortunate to stumble on this scene, of mountain ash towering over myrtle beech and tree ferns, which captures the essence of this remarkable region.