Mungo National Park and night sky, New South Wales, Australia

 

Willandra Lakes Region is wide and large. It is also a world heritage zone. The night time is actually not quiet. There are all sorts of sounds that are kind of spooky to hear. The night in the desert is pretty much alive. 

The view gets my adrenaline pumping. 

Sony A7RIV

Laowa 12mm f2.8 

Night posts

Piangil Night Sky with light painting for Skywatch Friday

 

Piangil lies approximately half an hour’s drive beyond Swan Hill in Victoria, situated near the threshold of the Australian outback. A modest rural locality surrounded by flat open farmland and distant horizon lines, it offers a profound stillness, especially under the vast dome of the night sky. This particular photograph was taken several years ago, during a period when I was deeply passionate about the art of light painting. At that time, I did not hesitate to rise in the small hours of the night, load the car with equipment, and make the journey into such remote reaches for the sake of a single frame of long-exposure magic.

How times have changed. These days, I find myself lacking the same energy or will to embark on such nocturnal expeditions. Age, it seems, makes its presence known not with fanfare but with small surrenders.

The lens I used then—a Laowa 12mm f/2.8, prized for its rectilinear precision and remarkable field of view—was sold a year later at a price that exceeded its original retail value. I remain mystified by the ways of eBay buyers; why one would pay more for a secondhand item than simply purchase it new from a reputable dealer escapes my understanding. Yet such are the strange economies of online marketplaces.

Sony A7RV

Laowa 12mm f2.8 

Linking Skywatch Friday

Maldon Night Sky for Skywatch Friday

 

Another photograph emerges from my earlier endeavours to capture the Milky Way arcing over the night sky of Maldon—a small Victorian town whose silence after dusk seems made for stargazing. The Milky Way hangs there like a memory etched in light, undisturbed by the slow breathing of the land below. Standing beneath that celestial sweep, I recall a decade-old exchange: my tentative enquiry with the local hospital about employment, and their firm insistence that only the most renowned specialists in the country were fit for service in this quiet town. It felt an irony of scale—a remote settlement with modest economic activity aspiring to impossible standards—one that gently closed a door before it ever opened.

Time, however, has a curious way of circling back. Over the years, invitations and requests to provide services here have drifted my way, as persistent as the evening breeze that moves through the gums. And yet, I find myself declining, not out of resentment, but from a quiet shift in purpose. I have come to prefer observing Maldon rather than working within it—studying its contours through the lens, not the clinic. These days, I arrive only with a camera, drawn more to its stories than its needs.

Maldon itself is a place where history does not lie dormant; it glows softly beneath the surface like embers of an old fire. During the gold-mining era of the 1850s, this was a town alive with feverish promise. Its hills, now calm and draped in native scrub, once rang with the clatter of picks and the rumble of quartz-crushing batteries. Tents rose like temporary dreams, shops and hotels sprang up overnight, and fortunes were made or shattered in the dust of a single day. The goldfields carved the character of Maldon—its wide verandahs, its brick shopfronts, its still-standing chimneys—and left behind a heritage precinct now cherished for its rare preservation.

By daylight, the remnants of that past lie scattered across the landscape: abandoned shafts, rusted machinery, and slopes reshaped by human determination. But under the night sky, these relics recede into silhouette, and Maldon returns to a kind of primordial quiet, older even than the gold rush. It becomes a meeting place of eras—the ancient light above and the colonial history below, with my camera simply bearing witness.

So I wander through the town not as a clinician, nor as a would-be specialist, but as someone content to capture what remains when ambition has faded: the curve of a starlit street, the loneliness of an old mining headframe, the way the Milky Way spills over Maldon as though blessing both the glory of its past and the gentle obscurity of its present. Photography, here, feels like the truest work I can offer.

Sony A7RV

FE 16-35mm f2.8 GM

Linking Skywatch Friday

Sydney Harbour Bridge at night for Treasure Tuesday

 

On my most recent journey to Sydney, I found myself once more compelled to photograph the city by night. As ever, the train bore me across the city to the bridge, that great span from which Sydney reveals itself most eloquently after dark. Yet the experience proved unlike my previous visits; the familiar scene appeared altered, as though the city had chosen to show me a different aspect of its character, quieter and more reflective, yet no less commanding.

The bridge itself, the Sydney Harbour Bridge, stands as one of the defining works of Australian engineering and civic ambition. Conceived in the early years of the twentieth century, it was born of a pressing need to unite the northern and southern shores of the harbour, which until then were linked only by ferry. Designed by Dr John Bradfield, whose vision shaped much of Sydney’s modern infrastructure, the bridge took form under the engineering firm Dorman Long and Company of Middlesbrough, England. Construction began in 1923 and employed thousands during the difficult years of the Great Depression, becoming both a source of livelihood and a symbol of national resolve.

Completed and opened in 1932, the bridge is the world’s largest steel arch bridge of its kind, its vast curve rising with austere grace above the harbour waters. Built from more than 52,000 tonnes of steel and held together by millions of rivets, it was assembled from both shores toward the centre, the two halves meeting with remarkable precision high above the water. Its opening was marked by ceremony and controversy alike, famously interrupted when a ribbon was cut prematurely in political protest, an episode now woven into the bridge’s lore.

Since that day, the Harbour Bridge has carried trains, vehicles, cyclists, and pedestrians, serving not merely as a crossing but as a constant presence in the life of the city. By night, when its arch is traced in light and reflected upon the dark water below, it appears less a feat of industry than a great, luminous gesture—binding shore to shore, past to present, and the restless city to its enduring harbour.

Sony A7RV

FE 20-70mm f4 G

Linking Treasure Tuesday

Old Vintage Hardware Store in Maldon at night for Skywatch Friday

 

This photograph was taken several years ago. The tungsten street lighting along the roadside proved a formidable obstacle to achieving a proper long-exposure capture of the Milky Way. As can be seen, the galactic core appears somewhat distorted, and the roadside sign bears an intense orange-yellow hue that disrupts the serenity of the scene. In post-processing, I was compelled to subdue the colour saturation almost entirely. Perhaps a monochrome rendering might better preserve the atmospheric quality of the composition.

Yet, despite its technical imperfections, the image remains a cherished memory. I would not now venture into the quiet hours of the night to attempt such a shot again—too great the risk of passing traffic or untoward encounters on those dim country roads.

The scene was taken near the old hardware store in Maldon, Victoria—a fine relic of the gold rush era. Established in the late nineteenth century, its timber façade and pressed metal signage speak of a time when craftsmanship and commerce flourished hand in hand. The store once supplied miners and settlers with shovels, nails, and kerosene lamps—tools that built not only homes but entire communities. Even now, its weathered walls stand as a reminder of Maldon’s industrious past, the first town in Australia to be officially classified by the National Trust for its historical significance.

Thus, the photograph—though imperfect in exposure—captures more than the night sky: it holds a fragment of history, both personal and regional, where the stars and the spirit of an old goldfields town meet in quiet dialogue.

Sony A7RV

FE 16-35mm f2.8 GM

Linking Skywatch Friday

Fengjia night market Signs for Sign2

 

Clams bake and grill Sign

This sort of game is popular in Asia

Calamari roast 

Strolling through a night vendor market is not particularly conducive to weight loss. However, I take great pleasure in wandering through such places, camera in hand, with my wide-angle lens capturing the lively atmosphere. To avoid the incessant nuisance of scam calls, I make use of a different SIM card while abroad.

Despite my travels overseas, Joel remains in regular contact with me via Signal. He appears rather enthusiastic about the prospect of starting his own podcast, though I sincerely hope he does not. His intensely private nature is well-founded, and only a true friend could engage with his perspectives without passing judgment.

Street photography serves as a sport for me, and as such, my frames often include various signs encountered along the way. 

Sony A7RV

FE 14mm f1.8 GM

Linking Sign2

I am currently enjoying the third season of The White Lotus and have reached the fourth episode. Additionally, I am planning an overnight trip to Shifen, a region renowned for its picturesque waterfall and vibrant night market. However, as my mobile plan is limited to only one gigabyte of data per month, I must rely on public Wi-Fi to access the blog.

Signs around Darling Harbour Sydney for Sign2

 

By day, Darling Harbour performs its duties efficiently—ferries arrive and depart, cafés hum, families drift between museums and promenades. But it is after dusk that the place reveals its true temperament.

When night settles, the harbour exhales. Glass towers loosen their grip on the sky and begin to speak in reflections, their lights unspooling across the dark water like careful calligraphy. Neon signage, garish in sunlight, softens into something theatrical, glowing with intention rather than insistence. The waterfront paths become ribbons of light, guiding footsteps past palm silhouettes and quiet eddies where the water holds the city’s colours without complaint.

The air feels warmer at night, even in cooler seasons, carrying the mingled scents of salt, food, and river damp. Conversations drift more slowly. Laughter echoes off pylons and under footbridges, lingering longer than it does during the rush of daylight. Boats glide through the harbour like deliberate thoughts, their wakes briefly breaking the perfect mirror before the water gathers itself again.

Here, Sydney’s modernity is at its most persuasive. The entertainment precinct—so exposed and crowded by day—turns intimate, almost reflective. Light installations and illuminated signs do not compete; they converse, tracing the harbour’s edges and framing the skyline beyond. The city does not overwhelm the water at night; instead, it learns to share the space.

Darling Harbour after dark is not merely a brighter version of itself—it is a different place altogether. Less functional, more lyrical. A harbour that waits for the sun to disappear before showing how beautifully it knows how to shine.

Sony A7RV

FE 35mm f1.4 GM

Linking Sign2

Darling Harbour Night Signs for Sign2

 

Whilst on an evening stroll, delighting in the shimmering night lights of Sydney, I happened upon a number of curious signs as well. The gentle hum of the harbour was accompanied by the warm glow of shopfronts—those modest night establishments nestled along Darling Harbour, still open and inviting well into the late hours. Their illuminated windows offered a quiet charm, a testament to the city’s enduring vitality after dusk, where commerce and leisure intertwine beneath the soft reflections of water and light.

Sony A7RV

FE 20-70mm f4 G

Linking Signs 2

Phillips Island seashore, Victoria, Australia

 

This was taken during a disappointing adventure to Phillip Island. I was meant to discover a meteor shower at night for the wonder in the night sky. Instead, the thick cloud cover came over my head leaving me in despair. All the effort down the drain that the sky was looking so opaque without colours. Then I set up the gear pointing at the shipwreck in the water. 

Sony A7RIV

FE 70-200mm f2.8 GM

Sea photos

Sidney at night for Sign2

 

During my visit to Sydney in May this year, I found myself captivated by the quiet poetry of the city’s nocturnal signs. Each evening, I wandered alone through its luminous streets — a gentle form of walk therapy, where movement and solitude met in quiet accord. The first and second photographs were taken at the Estée Lauder light-up event — a touch theatrical, perhaps, yet undeniably radiant against the cool night air. The third captured an aged warehouse sign near Chinatown, its faded letters whispering of another era. The final image revealed the grand entrance of Luna Park, aglow beneath the stars, where nostalgia and laughter seem forever suspended in the shimmer of electric light.

Sony A7RV

FE 20-70mm f4 G

Linking Sign 2

Melbourne South Bank at night for Treasure Tuesday

 

It has been several years since my last visit to South Bank. I was pleased to discover a newly erected Ferris wheel, accompanied by a series of luminous installations that greatly appeal to photography enthusiasts. Of particular note is the splendid illumination of the surrounding architecture, which lends the precinct an enchanting ambiance after dusk and offers ample opportunity for artistic expression.

South Bank, situated along the southern banks of the Yarra River in Melbourne, is one of the city’s most vibrant cultural and recreational precincts. Once an industrial area, it has undergone a remarkable transformation into a bustling hub of art, dining, and entertainment. The promenade is lined with world-class restaurants, lively cafés, and luxury hotels, drawing both locals and visitors who seek to experience Melbourne’s cosmopolitan charm. Notably, the Arts Centre Melbourne and the National Gallery of Victoria, both iconic institutions, contribute to the area’s reputation as a cultural heart of the city.

In recent years, South Bank has seen the addition of new attractions, further enhancing its appeal. A striking Ferris wheel now graces the skyline, offering panoramic views of Melbourne and the Yarra River. At night, the precinct comes alive with a symphony of light—installations and architectural lighting casting a glow upon the buildings and walkways, creating a picturesque setting ideal for evening strolls and photographic pursuits. The thoughtful illumination of structures such as the Eureka Tower and surrounding facades adds an elegant brilliance to the cityscape, reflecting beautifully on the river’s surface.

South Bank is more than a destination; it is an experience that seamlessly blends the arts, leisure, and modern urban design. Its well-maintained promenades, proximity to the Central Business District, and integration of natural and man-made beauty make it a cornerstone of Melbourne’s identity. Whether one visits to enjoy a theatrical performance, dine by the river, or capture the interplay of light and architecture through a camera lens, South Bank offers a timeless and ever-evolving canvas that embodies the spirit of Melbourne.

Sony A7RV

FE 20-70mm f4 G

Linking Treasure Tuesday

Night stall at Bendigo for Sunday Best

 

On a cold night at Bendigo, the neon light really gives a good mood.

Sony A7RV

FE 50mm f1.2 

Linking Sunday Best

Spider in the garden for Eileen's Saturday Critter

 

This week is raining nonstop. I ended up having with dining spree with my friends. Quite a bonding experience. 

Photographing in the backyard is very convenient lol. 

Pentax A200mm f4 macro

Linking Saturday's Critter

Last night, I had some fine food at a city Japanese restaurant. I did meet a friend but my whole focus was enjoying the dishes off Ala Carte menu. 

I will be heading out with Joel for his birthday dinner tomorrow night. 

Bolte Bridge Night for Sky Watch Friday

 

A classic location for boring Friday Night

Sony A7RV

FE 70-200mm f2.8 GM

Linking Skywatch Friday

Melbourne Night City View as Treasure Tuesday

This is taken during a low tide at Brighton's beach. The night scenery is not bad.

Sony A7RIV

FE 70-200mm f2.8 GM

Linking Treasure Tuesday

 

Lake Weeroona Bendigo for Skywatch Friday

 

Every night during my walk around this lake, it gives a different light. This night, I happen to have my camera with me. 

It has been raining in Melbourne. More rains to follow in the next three days. So I will be hitting some fine dining places with Joel. 

Sony A7RV

FE 50mm f1.2 GM

Linking Sky watch Friday

Mallee sky every night, Australia

 

Mallee region is said to be the part of outbreak if spies and murderers want to disappear from the world. However, I dont see any of them at all.

After work in regional towns, I always love to stop by the sides of road enjoying the sky.

Sony A7RIV

FE 16-35mm f2.8 GM

Night posts

Surfer's paradise urban sunset for Sunday Best

 

On this night, I took night shots in Gold Coast and Brisbane. Joel and I went back to hotel after 2 am. That led to a late riser next morning ready for an adventure to Lamington national park. 

Sony A7RV

Sigma 105mm f2.8 macro

Linking Sunday Best

Lake Boga Milkyway for Thursday Water H2O event

 

This was taken last night. The weather turned good on a new moon night. So I took the camera to the lake side for a snap. Damn, it was so cold -2 degrees Celsius. 

Sony A7RV

FE 14mm f1.8 GM

Linking Water H2O Thursday - for any photos to do with water

Back beach, Mornington Peninsula

 

A late post this morning since I had another adventure last night. It was fun searching for a landscape. There is no time to re-examine the work last night. However, I am so buggered this morning. Sore muscles everywhere

Sony A7RV

FE 16-35mm f2.8 GM

Linking Sunday Best