When we first moved to our place in ‘the country’ I knew nothing about the bushland which takes up most of our 15 acres. The trees were beautiful, but we didn’t notice the flora. It didn’t take long though for me to develop a real sense of place.

Diagnosed with a serious illness in 2013, I had time to wander, and knowledgeable friends to tell me about the native orchids, lilies, bush pea and other wildflowers on our land. Surprisingly, they captured my heart. I had always been more comfortable indoors. Now I wandered the bush for hours at a time with my camera.

My nature blog Fifteen Acres is the result of the knowledge I gained during this time. These photographs are definitely NOT art. They are a record of species. However, as I walked each day, photographing in different seasons, at different times of the day, when different species were flowering, I built up a lot of knowledge. The way colours change with different light, the texture of bark in different seasons, and so much more. I’m not conscious of this when I create, but looking at my finished paintings, I recognise the colours, the forms and the lighting from the bushland I walk.

‘The Womb of the Wood Nymph’

In the next few posts, I will explore the connection with a specific place. In this post I want to focus on a photograph I now call ‘The Womb of the Wood Nymph’. This is one photograph in a series I took on a walk. The rest were quite ordinary, but this one stood out due to the light.

My first title for this photograph was ‘A Rainbow of Tree Trunks’. I loved the subtle range of colours. The new title came when a ten year old girl gave me a new perspective on what I captured. She stood staring at the photograph for a long time. Eventually she turned to me and said “My favourite part is the devils eye.”

Try as I might, I had no idea what she had seen. I asked her to point it out. Finger pointing to a slanted piece of yellow light between a background tree trunk and a branch, I saw the eye. Once seen, never forgotten.

The feature my eye goes to is the cradle shaped grey hollow on the lower left. Almost like a womb of the forest, protecting wildlife, and the result of a long life. Putting these elements together, the photograph took on a sense of spirituality, or fairytales, or magic. All of these.

The Watchful Eye

Now I walk to find tiny leaves in the winter. I know where the flowers will bloom in spring. I feel moss change from springy carpets in winter to a crunchy dry mass in Summer. I find pin-head sized fungi growing on fallen branches, and deep purple mushrooms under bright green bracken. It truly does feel like a magical place.

As I explore artistic mediums and styles, I see the bush reflected in almost everything I do. Even in colour field abstracts, where the idea is to exclude forms, I see trees, the light filtered through leaves, the texture of bark and lichen. It’s etched in my sense of the world, as indelible as the blackest Indian ink.