There are many benefits in returning to a previously visited country - sites are familiar, roads are less daunting and the landscape is already an acquaintance if not a friend.
We are in South Island of New Zealand at the moment and although I’m covering some well-known ground, there are more than enough nuances in the land to keep the visit fresh.
One of the areas of interest is the ever-impressive Aoraki (Mount Cook) National Park. At the southern tip of the park lies the sublime Lake Pukaki – a glacial fed lake which shimmers an incredible shade of blue during the day. I find myself here almost exactly a year after my last visit in January 2006. During that time I managed to capture a brief burst of sun on the rolling fields in front of Lake Pukaki / Mount Cook which turned into the Aoraki (Mount Cook) Limited Edition Print.
As we were driving past the area the other day I noticed the same field and the same trees and decided it was well worth a small trek to see what changes had occurred in the intervening 12 months. With a sullen sky, flat light and fields of colour no more, it was a completely different scene which greeted me.
The incident has impressed on me a number of lessons. Firstly, if you see an opportunity for a photo (or for anything in life for that matter) take it for no-one can tell you when, if ever, it will repeat itself again. Secondly, the natural world is in a constant state of change and one can only marvel at its evolution by returning to the same places over time.
Whilst fields and flowers may change on a seasonal basis, the tale also raises a broader note. What if I were to re-visit the Perito Moreno glacier in 30 years time instead of just one? What of the Antarctic or low-lying islands such as the Seychelles? What of Venice or London?
There are environmental changes afoot which will fundamentally alter the view and landscape which my future children and grand-children will experience. Maybe in that regard, my work is taking on archival/documentary role which I cannot appreciate today….
