An Ode to Trees

There are choices on life’s journey
to that boundless place beyond my mind.
One would be to meet you once again—
where sunlight bathes our conversation
and feelings flow without direction or end.

I dream you might, for a moment,
cross my path once more—
to pause my endless journey
beyond this space,
beyond this time,
where branches touch in distant realms
on planes far beyond
the reach of my human mind.

Finding a tree that stands alone, a tree that speaks to your soul is something all of us need to do. When you have found ‘your tree’ the next step is to develop a personal relationship with it. Consider this as one of the most powerful, life-enhancing ways to connect with nature.

As with all new relationships, there is work to be done. Sit, bare-footed on the earth with your back to the trunk of your new friend and while shielded by its shade enter a state of ‘no thought.’ Breath slowly and deeply, and in the stillness, you will find your senses become heightened. Soon you start to see and feel art in the simplest of things around you; the abstract colours, patterns and textures of bark; the dynamic structure of buttresses dripping with fungus, moss and alive with a multitude of mini-beasts. Then there’s the artistry of fallen leaves, fruits and flowers – so many elements to catch the eye.

Revisit and repeat the process throughout the seasons and in many kinds of weather. Visit at dawn, at dusk and in the inky blackness of the night. Soon you will realise that you have become part of that tree.

You will never be alone; you will be in the company of many living things. All will know you are there; nothing goes unseen, unheard, unfelt. Many mammals, birds, and reptiles, a multitude of living things have already long-bonded with ‘your tree’. You will find this is so and you will begin to see much further than you have ever seen before.

A special relationship

Over the decades, I have developed relationships with some unique trees. Some are protected in National Parks and council gardens and even honoured with signs and barricades that protect and celebrate their grandness. Others are so unique that the landowners have seen fit to signpost ‘no entry’.  Still, others are atop mountains or deep in a rainforest-clad gorge. These extraordinary sometimes age-old botanical wonders have captured my artistic attention over decades of wandering. As I revisit them, I like to take pause, reflecting on my life journey. Who was I back then? How far have I travelled since then? It’s like turning back the pages of a diary.

‘A Mountain Ash Morning I and II’

A misty morning deep inside the towering mountain ash forest, a striking feature of Australia’s temperate wet forests at Yarra Ranges National Park, Victoria, sets a captivating scene. The mountain ash, or Eucalyptus regnans, is the world’s tallest flowering plant, reaching over 100 meters. On ABC’s Catalyst program, ‘Australia’s Favourite Tree,’ experts praised its ecological significance and unique adaptations.

These remarkable trees provide critical habitats for numerous species, including the endangered Leadbeater’s possum, and play a vital role in carbon sequestration, helping to mitigate climate change. Their deep-rooted systems stabilise soil and prevent erosion, which is critical in maintaining the forest ecosystem. Notably, mountain ash can regenerate after bushfires, showcasing its resilience.

‘Gondwana Forest’

Commonly known as Antarctic beech, is a crucial Gondwana relict of the rainforests of the southern hemisphere. It occurs in wet, fire-free areas at high altitudes in eastern Australia. The Antarctic beech grows in cool temperate rainforests from the Barrington Tops plateau in New South Wales, north to the Lamington Plateau and Springbrook Plateau, in southern Queensland, between altitudes of 480 m and 1550 m. It occurs in temperate to cool temperatures and with occasional snowfalls. Antarctic beech achieves its finest development at Werrikimbe National Park and Mount Banda Banda.

‘Wurundjeri Country’

A world of moisture and mystery, deep within the Yarra Ranges National Park, where ancient myrtle beech trees rise like living monuments draped in rich cloaks of moss. Every surface glistens in the damp, filtered light—branches, trunks, and forest floor alike—creating an ethereal green tapestry that speaks of time, resilience, and the quiet persistence of nature. This ecosystem is untouched by hurry, where life unfolds in layers and silence is broken only by dripping water and the occasional call of a lyrebird.

‘Each As One’

A grand old mulga tree is the central refuge during waterhole activity for flocks of emerald-green budgerigars and pink and grey galahs. When a predatory bird sweeps past, thousands of budgerigars respond in perfect unison, fleeing to the tree with astonishing synchronicity. Their collective movement—fluid and precise—suggests a hidden language, a kind of instinctive communication that binds them together like a single, breathing organism.

‘An Old Friend II’

A Ghost Gum’s smooth white bark contrasts the rugged red-brown ridges of the MacDonnell Ranges, Northern Territory. I consider this tree a friend—steadfast, silent, and ever-welcoming. For over thirty years, I’ve returned to this exact spot, greeted each time by its familiar form. In a landscape shaped by time and harsh conditions, this tree has become a living marker of continuity and quiet companionship, offering not just shade, but a sense of belonging in the vastness of the desert.

‘Light Hunter’s Delight’

I grew up in a culture of guns and hunting. It was the late 50’s and there were gun shops on every corner. Hunting, mainly fish and rabbits for food, was very much part of my youth. I feel these youthful experiences have served me well because nature photography is very much about hunting. Patience, at times stealth, a keen eye for detail and an addictive personality are all integral to this work. The prize, of course, is a sense of delight when even the most simple of elements, like the textural echoes seen in this composition, come into play.
Boab tree Kimberly District, Western Australia.

‘The Oneness’

The interrelations between the living and non-living elements in any ecosystem are a great source of fuel for any creative soul regardless of medium. I have reflected upon many ecological and, in this case artistic, relationships for many years and find the challenges, wins, and losses, both constant and enriching. I see the content of this digital charcoal sketch – something I like to do when I am feeling particularly playful – as a triangle between the tree, the rock, and my own emotions; in this trilogy, the ‘oneness’.

‘Life from Light’

As one of the planet’s most endangered wild places, the tropical rainforest is also among its most diverse and breathtakingly beautiful ecosystems. These lush green realms are not only heartlands of inspiration but also present a formidable photographic challenge.

I’ve spent years immersed in that challenge—capturing not just the rainforest’s visual splendour, but the deep emotional resonance it stirs within me. All forests are driven by a single impulse: the reaching for light. Interpreting that instinct visually has been a constant and compelling pursuit.

In this image, I wanted to honour the twists and turns of a grand old fig tree—its gnarled limbs reaching skyward in a slow, determined dance toward the sun.

Tropical Rainforest, Daintree World Heritage National Park, Queensland

‘Mist Forest’

‘Fairytails’

The Pandani or giant grass tree is a distinctive endemic Tasmanian angiosperm. It is dicot belonging to the Ericaceae family and is found in central, western and south-west Tasmania. This fairytale setting at Cradle Mountain is one of my favourite in the world of Australian botany.  Cradle Mountain-Lake St Clair National Park, Tasmania

‘Matilda’s Billabong’

River red gum at Combo’s waterholes, north-west Queensland, inspired ‘Banjo’ Paterson to write Waltzing Matilda, Australia’s most popular folk song. They are a refuge for wildlife during dry times.

‘Lost in Mist’

I became so absorbed with this encounter that I subsequently became disoriented in a heavy mist. I have never been able to find this remarkable rock-embraced snow gum since. Mount Field National Park, Tasmania.

‘Mountain Mist’

Even in its passing, this grand old twisted gumtree is one of my favourites, and I love to revisit it when in Tasmania, especially in misty weather. Mount Wellington, Tasmania.

‘Worrora Country II’

In the quiet tide of Doubtful Bay, where the Kimberley whispers its ancient secrets, the Rhizophora mangrove stands as a sculptor of time. Its buttress roots stretch like graceful arms, weaving through the mud and water, embracing the earth with a rhythm that speaks of patience and resilience. These roots rise in sweeping arcs, their forms both delicate and bold, etched by centuries of tides. Each curve, each twist, is an artwork carved by the forces of nature, a testament to survival in a land where the land and sea are in constant, graceful dialogue. In their bold beauty, these roots evoke a sense of both grounding and reaching, as if the mangrove tree is rooted in the past, yet reaching ever upward, stretching toward a future of endless possibilities.

‘Standing Tall’

The Ghost Gum in Trephina Gorge Nature Park stands as a monumental testament to the enduring strength of the Australian outback. This grand specimen, said to be the tallest Ghost Gum in the Macdonnell Ranges, reaches an impressive 33 metres in height, its branches stretching boldly toward the endless sky. At over 300 years old, this ancient tree has withstood the harshest of conditions, its weathered bark and twisted form telling stories of time and resilience.

It is a silent sentinel, watching over the rugged landscape, its white bark stark against the deep red of the surrounding cliffs. Beneath its broad canopy, the whisper of the wind through the leaves is a soft reminder of the tree’s longevity and the secrets it holds. To stand beneath its towering frame is to connect with a history that stretches far beyond human memory, a living monument to the spirit of the land, ever growing, ever enduring.

‘Kurkara’ & ‘The Healing Tree’

Above left: ‘Kurkara’ – The desert oak is a medium-sized, slow-growing tree found in the desert regions of the Northern Territory, South Australia and Western Australia.  The Anangu peoples know this iconic arid land tree as kurkara.

Above right:  ‘The Healing Tree’ – Historically, Indigenous Australians use the desert bloodwood tree for traditional medicine. The exudate from the trunk or branches was diluted and used as an antiseptic treatment of facial cuts and sores. Larger leaves were also useful for staunching wounds. The red bark kino can be stripped from the tree and mixed in water then consumed for diarrhoea as well as for indigestion and chest pain. The wood from the tree was also used by Indigenous peoples to make spear-throwers, digging bowls and carrying vessels. Europeans used the wood to make fence-posts, joists slabs and buildings as well as using it for firewood.
Both images: Uluru, Uluru-Kata Tjuta National Park, Central Australia.