Moister drifts upwards

The morning mists are always worth stopping for and unfortunately an unexplainable reason for my late entry to work .... well that and road work.

I couldn't edit this series well ... so it stands as it took me... a very fast moving field of most air drifting around the valley as the sun rose and the day entered its ritual, a wonder of moments to capture in the surrounds.

The February Floods

Starting out at one end of the Maloort plains to watch the other side - the sky turning into a pastel brooding canvas with downward brush strokes - as a deluge of rain poured from sections of the sky ... so quickly and succinctly fulminating weeks of humid intent.

Exquisite bubbles in the sky

You can turn your head up to this vast sky, on days like this, and the lines of clouds grow smaller and plot out another field ... like the piles of stones below.... the lumps of white fluff line up the distant horizon.

A Kingdom in the Clouds

The heat is simmering with an ocean above, light opens the day and then the kingdom is in the clouds.... the caramel earth waits below as the languid summer feels the moist move and wander above.

The Farmer wants a wife!

This patch of land was transformed in almost a day, hay cut, bailed and stored.

The poster flapping in the wind, in tatters....this too me captures a longing and strange surreal inclusion to the landscape. I aim to document its demise as it degrades further.

almost white gold

with the sun at its peak, the golden fields are bleached to white gold
there is a white band wedding the hills and towns in between

In the heat of the day!

I took my old camera, pardon the spots, too hot to leave a camera in the car.... but a shame that the old one needs a service...

I love the bleaching of the sun, the way that it cuts everything into a flat paper plane of lines and shapes. 

The end is the beginning

This post marks the beginning of a project starting at the end of a year.

These first images were taken as the air moisture vaporised and the land began its groaning .... the kind that comes when the season of wheat harvest begins in  frenzy (just before Christmas and extreme heat). The wheat heads rustle like paper skirts in the hot wind and farmers on massive machinery can be seen with lights on late into the evening.