Marie and I had heard about the Noosa Everglades for years, so in 2018 we finally booked a half-day cruise to experience them for ourselves.
What struck me almost immediately was the quality of the reflections. The water was so still that the trees seemed to continue beneath the surface, creating a landscape that felt both real and mirrored at the same time.
As we travelled deeper into the Everglades, the world seemed to grow quieter. I could hear birds calling from the trees, the gentle sound of the boat moving through the water, and the occasional rustle of leaves in the breeze.
Without realising it, I began to slow down.
The absence of city noise was noticeable, but it was more than that. There was a sense of stillness that seemed to settle over everyone on board. Looking around, I noticed that people weren’t rushing from one side of the boat to the other searching for the perfect photograph. Most seemed content simply to sit, observe, and absorb the experience.
Occasionally the captain would point out a large bird’s nest or a kangaroo along the shoreline. Even then, there was no sense of urgency. We had all relaxed into the rhythm of the place.
When I returned home and downloaded the photographs, this image immediately caught my attention. I liked it from the beginning, although I never considered entering it into a competition. It wasn’t dramatic. It wasn’t rare. It simply felt right.
Over the years, I have found myself returning to it again and again.
What surprises me is that the photograph no longer reminds me of the details of the day. I can’t remember who else was on the boat. I couldn’t tell you what we did afterwards. Most of the facts have faded.
What remains is the feeling.
Each time I look at this image, I am taken back to the calmness of that morning. I remember the still water, the quiet surroundings, and the sense of being completely present in the moment. The photograph has become less a record of what I saw and more a reminder of what I felt.
Perhaps that is why some photographs stay with us long after others have been forgotten.
They remind us not only of where we were, but of how it felt to be there.
One of the lessons photography has taught me is that I don’t always need to understand why I am drawn to a particular image. Sometimes it is enough to recognise that it continues to speak to me.
This photograph does exactly that.
Each time I revisit it, it quietly returns me to a place of stillness, and for a few moments, I am back on the waters of the Noosa Everglades once again.