|2nd July 2012, for no reason except the breathtaking colours.|
When I was flicking randomly through photos on my hard drives looking for something to post, one image kept popping up. Well, not one image, one scene.
|Mother's Day, 2014, my first without my mum.|
I live on the Gold Coast in Queensland, about a half hour drive from the border into New South Wales. I grew up just over the border, in a then-sleepy little beachside town where my parents built the first brick house and we never locked the doors. One of the most iconic sights of the area is Mount Warning, just out the back of Murwillumbah. Picture a town stuck in the 50's, a few hippies and lots of leeches and you are getting the idea. Mount Warning is the sight that tells me I'm approaching home as I whizz down the freeway and it appears on the horizon skirted by cane fields and mist.
Mount Warning is the central plug of the volcanic crater the whole Tweed Valley resides in, one of the most diverse and beautiful areas of the world. The peak was named so by Captain James Cook in 1770 to warn sailors of dangerous coral reefs off the coast. The indigenous Bundjalung people had already named the mountain far more romantically however, calling it Wollumbin, meaning ‘cloud catcher’.
|14th July 2012, the day our grandchild was born.|
After the new motorway was constructed out behind the coastal towns in... I forget but it was quite a few years ago now, I got into the habit of stopping most times I was driving to or from home to photograph the vista of Mount Warning lording over the cane. This became ritual and I found myself recording important times like going home for Christmas with a portrait of the mountain. Looking back I have literally dozens of shots of the same scene. I chose 4 to feature today, all of which bring back different memories.