#subantarctic

Re-greetings between Antipodean albatrosses, who have spent a year at sea.

Albatrosses are famously ‘monogamous’, choosing one partner to nest with for most, if not all, of their life. Real life is messy, and this does come with caveats – there’s a bit of ‘extra-pair copulation’ that goes on, and if breeding doesn’t work out well they may choose another partner, if they can. With the large sex-bias towards males in the Antipodean Albatross population, a lot of the males…

Some subantarctic minimalism.

We can never make the same image twice. The endless permutations of weather and light, of where birds fly, how the clouds darken and draw light across the landscape, all of these factors spin out into different, unique combinations. Things might look similar, but never the same. Every westerly wind we get brings somewhat predictable conditions that differ in their intensity. We had a lot of odd…

This summer season sees me back on Antipodes Island, back with the glorious albatrosses who call this place home. It’s a thrill and an absolute privilege to spend a few months here, working through the end of the season that began when I was here in January last year. Nests with eggs are now large, fledge-ready chicks with their last tufts of down slowly being whisked away by the wind. Next…

Some extra-close-up textures from Antipodes island.

Gentians, ferns, Acaena (biddy-bids), Lycopodiums and more! I love photographing wildlife, but something that draws me just as much is the textures of the environment I’m in. All the tiny details. What fascinates me is the scale at which patterns are made in ecosystems – from tiny regular fern fronds and feather textures to the seemingly organised spacing of tussocks across a hillside. This post…

Enjoying a rare sunset with Grey petrels on Antipodes island.

The end of a long day of census blocks, walking in lines over lumpy, orifice-infested vegetation. Wind riffling up the slopes of the southern end of Antipodes island, tossing golden tussocks with a chill sou-wester. Add to that a few thousand Kuia / Grey petrels returning from the sea, and low golden light in a rare patch of clarity, and you have something that is still fizzing in my blood…