tom m wilson

In between the interstices of the light, falls the darkness.

Life is a balancing act. In my mind I see all the darkness and destruction of this world as well as so much light and beauty. On the side of darkness I see Westerners driving cars more suited to militarised zones than a trip to the supermarket. These people fail to read the fine print of their actions.

On the side of light I see this young wandoo tree catching the evenings light above the Swan River in the supple curves of its trunk. I know that trees such as this one capture carbon dioxide, and ultimately help Gaia to regulate herself at a temperature suitable for all of us living things. To take this photograph, as I do whenever I do photography in Perth, I jumped on my bike and cycled to the location. It’s easy to read the fine print of such actions.

Webcams are an example of a green technology. I’m not saying that using one should always replace having a tete a tete in person, but using them more might reduce the amount we fly around the place. So now I have one… and even if you don’t have one you can do a one-way video chat with me. Go to http://www.aim.com/ My username is: Thomas MurrayWilson

If you drive two hours north of Perth you get to the Moore River. I visited a friend of mine, Peter, who is a bee keeper and who has some land in this mostly flat and sandy country. The Menzies Banksias were wreathed with buzzing bees wherever I walked. Being allergic to bee stings, I was watching my back.

Down by the Moore River a friend’s child, Hamish, scampered through the tussled trunks of Paperbark trees.

Later, in a fit of Blake-like sermon-on-the-mount grandeur, the sun blasted its rays outwards.

I spent some of my childhood in the south-west of W.A., and being back here this last week has reminded me of what I like best about my old stomping-ground.

Here I stood, watching the morning’s light creep onto the Frankland River.

A demure leaf orchid.

Beyond this peppermint tree, the farming pasture rolls down to the sea. This photo could almost be a painting by Samuel Palmer of the English countryside in Kent.

I stand under this peppermint tree and the angles of the branch on the ground and the hills and the trunk of the tree to my left imparts a feeling of reclining ease in the land.

There is only one place where the karri trees meet the southern ocean. Behind these flowers is the location.

The orange lichen gives Elephant Rocks its unique character.

Here the evening light was caught high up in the arms of this karri.

This grass tree had its stalk removed, and its diverging leaves stimulated my eye.

The rich reds of the tingle trees bark seemed to glow in the soft winter light.

Peaceful Bay is just down to the right in this photo.

The whole trip was an experience of the natural world of the south-west which is existing in all its splendour out of sight and mind of the majority of Perth’s population. A place which is quietly going about its millennial routines, while the city’s denizens further north shoot here and there, oblivious to the subtle winter beauties of the south. Maybe some of these photos will remind Perth people of what is best in their state.

From grey to red, the winter has its secrets.