Returning to a familiar place

The enjoyment of getting to know a place – with a big payoff

This morning, with clear skies forecast and not inspired to go far, I went for a walk down along the Yarra River at Yarra Bend Park.

This park is quite large (260 hectares) close to the centre of Melbourne, full of native bush, steep embankments and rocky outcrops. Being less than 5 kilometres away of my home, it is where I kept my sanity during Melbourne’s COVID lockdowns.

Needless to say, I know pretty much every trail, view, nook and cranny.

And while there is not a tree I haven’t seen, I can’t say I’ve really seen each one. There are hundreds, probably thousands, of fully grown trees in the park – how can I know each one fully, explored every angle in every light, sat in silent companionship?

Getting to know one of the residents of the local park

Building this relationship with a place, and with the inhabitants of that place takes time. It requires being present through wet and dry, hot and cold. To move beyond an understanding of me, located in a place, to a sense of this particular place beyond me.

Ultimately this deep connection with a place will come through in the images made.

The other benefit of returning to a place is the lack of pressure.

Last week I went on an epic mission – three hours by car and mountain bike before dawn, then over an hour bush bashing through steep and tangled terrain.

It was an amazing trip – not just a photography session but an adventure. I certainly came back dirty, bleeding and sore (I will write more about this trip in another post). And I am planning to go back later in the year when the sun is better aligned with the river valley.

But even knowing that all this will be here next time, I felt the pressure to deliver. The location was amazing – could I do justice to the location? Would all that work pay off?

Was it worth it? You will need to wait for that trip report, however, I know it was a very different experience to this morning. Here I was not rushed, and it was easy to slow down and be deliberate.

Knowing you can easily return reduces the pressure to deliver

It was an absolute joy to go to a familiar place to slowly explore, unrushed with time to spend with each tree (probably only 10-15 in total) – walking around to view from different angles, trying different compositions, storing ideas in the memory bank.

Of course, it is far beyond my capabilities to be able to capture the essence of a tree or place at any time (although that would be an amazing superpower). To be honest, the light was not great and while I quite like one nice portrait of tree (above), this trip was not about the number of good images I came home with.

The joy of photography is in the seeing – and having the time to spend in a familiar place is the key to really seeing.

Postscript

Just a week after this visit, I looked out the window to see fog, a lot of fog. Quickly grabbing my camera bag I was parked and exploring within 15 minutes (another benefit of photographing close to home).

The Yarra River

This was not a trip to enjoy the companionship of nature – this was a mission. By the time I had parked I had mapped out my route, which scenes were likely to be worth spending time on and how the sun was likely to interact with the fog as it lifted.

Over two hours I shot just over 100 images, about 16 scenes. There was just no way I could have done that without knowing the area intimately. This is the other side of landscape photography (or any photography), when conditions are good you need to be quick and instinctive.

I came home with a bunch of images. These are two.

An iconic Australian scene

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