After my sabbatical from, well, everything, the last couple of months, the one thing I have been itching to do is just head out into the countryside and just envelope myself in its sounds, in its silence, in its scent; in fresh air.
I decided the day beforehand (regardless of the weather), that I would head to the Otways. Spend some time amongst its ancient gums and perhaps even pay a visit to the congregation of Californian Redwoods that also call the Otways home
As a photographer, sometimes having specific goals for a shoot you want to do, based on minimal research can often lead to frustration and unnecessary ‘perfectionist’ thinking.
I had every intention of plodding on with my Redwood shoot. It didn’t matter if it rained, I thought, there’ll be some kind of canopy above that will protect the forest floor from getting too wet. The first fault of my specific thinking was that I would be able to access the Redwoods in the first place.
Alas, this did not happen, after turning off the winding road near Buchanan, a slightly offputting sign edged into my periphery, “Shared Tourists + Log Trucks”. Although the road was not surfaced, it was gravel, and I threw my rational fears aside and proceeded down the road. A white ute was a bit behind me so I felt justified in my decision to come down the road.
Before long the gravel somewhat disappeared leaving huge tire marks in the softening mud and clay where logging trucks had already made their way down. Despite driving a hatchback (and quite frankly, common sense!), I talked myself up on my driving abilities and thought, you can handle this, it’s just a bit slippery.
My newly boosted confidence in my driving skills was shot down when, no more than 500m later, I felt the back end of my beloved Astra swaying ever more regularly from side to side as I negated the slick of wet clay that was now the road. Getting bogged in the middle of a road shared by logging trucks was not my idea of a lovely day out shooting.
I let my white ute friend pass me; a small wave and a smile letting me know I was making the right decision. I needed a 4WD, let’s be honest. I white-knuckled the car back up the soft incline, grateful for the new set of tires bought not too long ago. No more dirt roads today, I said to myself, that’s it.
There are no images of this ‘offroad’ adventure, documenting my fear of sliding off the road for posterity was definitely not at the forefront of my mind!
Back on a sealed road, I took another turn off; this time one that was sealed! I made my way along the labyrinth of curves carving a path through the verdant fields the dairy cows call home. The fog and mist that had settled into the valley overnight still ensconced hillsides in its midst defying the rising morning sun.
The animals of the valley had cottoned on too and ventured out, basking the in the warmth that was heralding winter’s end.
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What should have been a five-minute drive turned into forty-five minutes as inquisitive eyes framed with gorgeous long lashes lured me in to say hello. I have to admit, I am one of those people that stops at just about every dog she sees on the street, coos over every baby animal in the fields along the highway.
So when it’s just me, my car and my camera, a small stretch of road through dairy country takes a little longer than what the normal passenger would endure!
These gorgeous, russet-brown youngins were quite interested in the black hatchback that parked before them at the bottom of the slope. One, in particular, was putting on quite the show and was more than happy to be the subject within the composition. This gorgeous trio at the fenceline shared quite the view with the rest of their herd.
The sloping hills that elegantly layered themselves one after the other into the distant forest shrouded in the fog of early morn, sparked memories of my time living on the edge of Dartmoor National Park in Devon, in the UK. I stood there for a few minutes, doing nothing more than breathing in the crisp cold air and allowing my ears to bathe in the gentle silence of Weeaproinah’s isolation. What a soundtrack to life these dairy beauties got to experience each day! Distant calls of birds of prey soaring on the winds, sent their voices down and across the valley. The wind itself as it tickled the boughs of stoic trees that lined the edge of one field from the next. So much going on yet it was blissfully peaceful.
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I had stopped quite a few times by this stage, positioning myself and my camera down the valley away from the sun. But then as I was turning back to the car, I looked up the hillsides and saw this beauty.
All by herself, as if she had quietly stolen time away from the rest of her heard, she stood there cloaked in her silhouette in the harsh morning sun. The simplicity of the composition really struck a chord. It summed up the simplicity in life that I search for. Time to one’s self, surrounded in nature’s simple beauty; being at one and not separate from it. It is not obvious what breed she was, as the severity of the sunlight cast her into shadow.
And in essence, it doesn’t really matter. Nature cares not for breed or creed. She is just a cow surrounded by nature in it’s most beautiful and simple form. And that’s what nature is and should be for us when are out in nature too. The thinking of modern living becomes irrelevant and is replaced by thoughts shaped by perspective and present circumstance. It’s hard to think of the pressures of the constructed world in the presence of such natural beauty. It’s one of the only times we get to back to our natural form of thinking; survival.
Identity no longer matters; opinions, moods, gripes and grudges have no bearing whilst in the natural world. We are just a being, another animal serving the only needs that keep us living.
I guess what I’m trying to say is, you can’t put a value on what standing in one of nature’s billions of beautiful settings can do for your mind. This composition felt like a real reset button for me, and also a reminder that the most compelling are more often than not the least obvious of compositions.
Having captured my spirit animal atop her hillside, it was time to keep moving on. I decided to avoid the highway this time and head back along the backroads, through towns like Colac and Birregurra. Having munched down my packed lunch at the Bunning’s carpark in Colac, I ventured down the back roads out of town heading back east towards home.
I had barely left Colac’s perimeter before I stumbled across yet more dairy friends. This time, these working gals of the dairy were a LOT bigger and a lot more discerning as I pulled up the Astra on the corner edge of their field. The looks of inquisition began immediately as I stuffed my other lenses in the pockets of my puffer jacket. To be honest they were probably disgusted that I had nothing of the edible variety to tempt them with.
Before long, they had gathered in numbers, along the fenceline, numerous pairs of eyes fixated on any movement I made. I hadn’t actually been this close to dairy cows in a long time, and I had truly forgotten how enormous they are!
If there has been one thing I’ve learnt about them, it’s that they’ve got to get comfortable with you, so for a minute or so, I just walked gently and slowly up and down the fenceline, not really looking at them, but making it obvious that I meant no harm at all.
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My little sojourn up and down the grassy roadside proved to separate the genuinely interested from those who may have thought I was packing some sumptuous dairy cow treats.
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One, in particular, was fairly enamoured with camera.
Little Dairy Gal No. 514 and I became quite acquainted. Her stare not intense, but rather focused. She really had no inhibitions at all, her glance only deviating when someone was pushing into the line from behind, or she could smell some delectable clump of grass beneath her sizable hooves.
Others had interesting little characters too. Some hiding their intentions to nibble on a roadside bush, with rather sheepish looks!
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Others were just gentle darlings, just a little cautious to come and say hello!
And before I knew it, I was out of SD card memory, having got swept away snapping my hooved gal friends. Despite whether they understood me or not, I took a step back, commanding their attention yet again, and proclaimed “Thanks girls, it’s been a real pleasure, thanks for the company!”
I still could feel their gentle lash-laden eyes watching me as I walked back to the car and turned to see them gathered in the corner, like your family gathering at the front door, waving you farewell on your holiday.
I drove off the grass waving at these cows, probably to the confusion of the truckie passing on the opposite side of the road. But I didn’t care, I had fun capturing these gentle creatures, I would have jumped the fence and given one a hug if I could have. Maybe next time, hey?
What animals do you love to capture in your photography?
Let me know below!
Much Love