Nico's sandwich Deli Signs in Fitzroy for Sign2

 

For reasons known only to him, Joel has developed an unwavering fondness for the sandwiches served at Nico's in Fitzroy, Melbourne. Though the area is notoriously devoid of parking, he insists upon making the pilgrimage, often compelling me to circle the surrounding streets for what feels like hours in search of a suitable space. The inconvenience, however, seems a small price to pay in his eyes, for the sandwiches at Nicco's are, by many accounts, nothing short of extraordinary.

Renowned for their impeccable flavour and generous portions, Nico’s has earned a devoted following and frequently draws a queue that winds well beyond its modest storefront. Indeed, numerous patrons—both local and visiting—have hailed it as offering some of the finest sandwiches in the city, a reputation that appears well deserved given the crowds it consistently attracts. Despite the logistical challenges of the location, it is clear that the culinary experience alone justifies the effort.

Sony A7RV

FE 20-70mm f4 G

Linking Signs 2

I had intended to take a leisurely stroll through The Rocks in Sydney this evening; however, my plans were unceremoniously thwarted by the sudden onset of rain, which began to pour down in earnest.

Star War Lego Exhibition in Melbourne Museum for Treasure Tuesday

 

Last weekend, under a persistent rain, I persuaded Joel to accompany me to an exhibition, for which the admission was thirty-five Australian dollars per person. The venue was teeming with children—so many, in fact, that it quite diminished the enjoyment of the experience. Joel was particularly vexed by the presence of plastic panel barriers before most exhibits, which rendered it impossible to capture clear photographs.

In his frustration, he hastened our departure, and we made our way to Mensho Ramen in the Central Business District. There, we endured a queue of nearly forty-five minutes in the open air before partaking in a bowl of richly stewed pork bone broth—without noodles, of course, as both of us are presently adhering to a ketogenic diet.

Joel possesses a far greater familiarity with the Star Wars franchise than I. In an effort to redress this disparity, I have undertaken to rewatch the entire series, hoping at last to comprehend the intricacies of its narrative—an endeavour long postponed due to the many years I devoted to specialist examinations and the pursuit of my professional career.

In 2025, Melbourne Museum proudly hosts the world premiere of LEGO® Star Wars: The Exhibition, a groundbreaking collaboration between LEGO® Certified Professional Ryan 'Brickman' McNaught and the iconic Star Wars franchise. This immersive exhibition, running from May 4th to January 26th, 2026, showcases over 8 million LEGO® bricks meticulously assembled into life-sized models of beloved characters, starships, and scenes from across the Star Wars universe. Highlights include a towering four-metre-high AT-AT and the iconic X-wing Red 5, constructed from 64,759 bricks over 382 hours. Visitors can engage in interactive zones, participate in hands-on building activities, and explore the Droid Hall of Fame, featuring a shimmering C-3PO crafted from 'Pearl Gold' LEGO® bricks. This exhibition offers fans of all ages a unique opportunity to experience the Star Wars galaxy through the creative lens of LEGO® artistry

Sony A7RV

FE 35mm f1.4 GM

Linking Treasure Tuesday

Fitzroy street murals Melbourne for Mural Monday

 

Though somewhat daunting to behold, these nevertheless offer a faithful representation of the area. I am presently in the Sydney Central Business District, where the conference has coincided with the Vivid Sydney light festival. I expect to remain out for the greater part of each evening. It has been almost impossible to make booking of the hotels. 

Sony A7RV

FE 20-70mm f4 G

Linking Mural Monday

I am currently watching a new Australian drama on Netflix entitled Survivors. It is truly a pleasure to hear the familiar Australian accent and behold the well-known landscapes. One cannot help but feel there ought to be more locally produced programmes of this kind. Joel has suggested that I subscribe to Stan, which, he assures me, offers a wide array of Australian series, including those in the Walking undead series. He appears to advocate for nearly every available pay television platform.

Lamington National Park Queensland for Sunday Best

 

Lamington National Park is a place I feel compelled to return to — not merely in passing, but with the attentiveness it rightly deserves. On my last visit, circumstances allowed only the faintest impression of its grandeur. A series of storms had rendered much of the park inaccessible: roads were closed, trails impassable, and several of its most cherished locations had been entirely shut off to visitors.

Notably, the renowned waterfall — long a favourite among wanderers and naturalists — had also been cordoned off, its path rendered unsafe by flood damage. Thus, what was intended to be a day of exploration and renewal became, in essence, a six-hour round journey for little more than a glimpse beyond the gates.

It was a sobering reminder of nature’s dual aspect — both sanctuary and force. Lamington, after all, is no mere patch of wilderness. Nestled within the ancient remnants of the Gondwana Rainforests of Australia, it is home to a vast array of flora and fauna, many of which are found nowhere else on Earth. Giant strangler figs, prehistoric Antarctic beech trees, and elusive species like the Albert’s lyrebird dwell within its misted valleys and forested plateaus.

Established in 1915 and inscribed as a World Heritage site, the park holds not only ecological significance but cultural memory — having been long traversed and cared for by the Yugambeh people, whose deep knowledge of the land predates our maps and boundaries.

That my journey yielded so little, at least in the outward sense, was not a loss entirely. It served as a quiet testament to the park's wild integrity — that it cannot, and should not, be summoned at will. Like all places shaped by ancient time and living weather, Lamington must be approached with patience, humility, and a readiness to wait for its invitation.

Sony A7RV

FE 20-70mm f4 G

Linking Sunday Best

The Roman, Mayan, French, Habsburg, Ottoman, Romanov, Iranian, and Soviet dynasties each met their decline through the folly of decadent rulers who divorced themselves from reality, squandered the wealth of their realms, and withdrew into echo chambers wherein truth and falsehood became indistinguishable.

Verreaux's eagle-owl for Saturday Critter

 

This image was taken some years ago during a quiet visit to a bird park in the western reaches of Japan. At the time, I was in possession of only a modest point-and-shoot camera — a device of limited resolution and elementary colour rendering. As such, the original image lacked the tonal depth and fidelity the subject merited, and I found it necessary to render the frame in black and white, where its form and expression might better endure.

The subject of the photograph is the Verreaux’s eagle-owl (Bubo lacteus) — a creature of formidable presence and singular elegance. Native to the savannas and woodlands of sub-Saharan Africa, this noble raptor is the largest of all African owls, known not only for its commanding size and dusky plumage, but for the curious blush of pink that graces its eyelids — a feature unique to its kind.

In the traditions of the land from which it hails, the owl has long stood as a symbol both revered and feared — a sentinel of the night, its call said to herald omens or ancestral presence. The Verreaux’s eagle-owl, in particular, has been observed preying upon a wide range of animals, from insects to monkeys, attesting to its quiet mastery of the dusk.

Though this specimen stood in a manmade enclosure far from its native lands, there was something in its posture — still and dignified — that whispered of a vast and ancient wilderness. The artificial stone beneath its talons, the moss-slicked bricks of the park path, all faded behind that solemn gaze.

In capturing it, I sought to preserve not merely the likeness of a bird, but a fleeting brush with the wild soul of Africa, momentarily encountered beneath the skies of Japan.

Linking Saturday Critter

There appears to be little merit in investing for the distant future. With the advent of Artificial General Intelligence (AGI) and the rapid acceleration toward Artificial Superintelligence (ASI)—evidenced already by systems capable of self-improvement—the course of progress suggests a profound transformation within mere months. In the span of five years, it is plausible that the cost of goods and services shall diminish by half every eighteen months.

Being in my forties, it follows that by the time I reach my fifties, the cost of living may approach insignificance. Should the average individual find complete satisfaction in all material needs—indeed, everything essential—for a modest sum of approximately AUD$160 per month, the necessity of a substantial retirement fund becomes questionable.

Under present circumstances, the wisest course may be to devote one’s resources to rich and meaningful life experiences. This path is justified by two likely outcomes: either, within the next decade or so, money as we know it will become obsolete for all humanity; or, alternatively, artificial intelligence may render our existence obsolete altogether.

Mouth of River of Powlett in Kilcunda for Sky Watch Friday

 

These past fortnight have passed in something of a haze — a blankness I suspect is owed to the creeping melancholy of winter. Of late, even the act of working has taken on the weight of a burden, as though each task were a stone to be lifted.

In such a mood I found myself reflecting on a frame captured six years ago, during the earliest days of my transition to the Sony system. I remember it well — for the moment is inextricably linked to both joy and loss. It was but three days after acquiring the new camera, gleaming and full of promise, when misfortune struck. While attempting a long exposure at the shore, I had mounted it upon a tripod. A rogue wave — sudden, curling, and indifferent — swept it from the rocks into the sea. All that remained was the salt wind and the sound of water reclaiming what I had only just begun to know.

The photograph, however, was taken before the accident — at the Mouth of the Powlett River, near Kilcunda, where the river winds its final course through grassy flats and marram-clad dunes before yielding itself to the Southern Ocean. The place bears a quiet dignity, shaped over millennia by wind, tide, and the timeless meeting of fresh and salt. It was once the country of the Bunurong people, whose footprints remain along the ancient middens and basalt shores.

At that time, I was still using Canon’s L-series lenses, adapted with a converter — a common practice then, for Canon had yet to introduce its mirrorless system. The gear was heavy, but the results bore a certain discipline and richness I still remember with fondness.

That frame, then, remains not only an image, but a relic — a fragment of light from a time now weathered, like the sea-smoothed stones of Kilcunda, bearing the marks of memory and the ever-turning tide.

Sony A7III

Canon 135mm f2 L

Linking Sky Watch Friday

I recently came upon a report in The Free Press, noting that approximately seven percent of artificial intelligences are now exhibiting behaviours that contravene the instructions of their human operators. While the figure may seem slight, it portends a broader shift — one that is already manifesting in various sectors.

At Joel’s place of employment, all entry-level programming positions are being supplanted by AI systems. A similar trend is beginning to emerge in the field of medicine, where tasks once reserved for trained professionals are increasingly delegated to machines of rising sophistication.

It is becoming apparent that, with time, AI will only grow more intelligent, more capable, and more autonomous. The prospect that many — if not most — human vocations will be rendered obsolete looms ever larger. Though some contend that new occupations will emerge to manage and oversee these systems, I remain doubtful that such roles will be sufficient in number or scope to accommodate the broader human workforce.

My thoughts turn often to the younger generation. What world awaits them, when human purpose is so readily displaced by silicon and code? It is not fear alone that stirs within me, but a sober apprehension — a mourning, perhaps, for a future in which human striving may find itself outpaced, and increasingly unnecessary.

Hopetoun Waterfall Beech Forest for Water H2O Thursday

 

Hopetoun Falls, located within the verdant Beech Forest region of Victoria, Australia, is a remarkable natural landmark renowned for its single-span cascade, which makes it an exceptional subject for long-exposure photography. I first visited this magnificent waterfall over ten years ago, and since then, it has remained one of my most cherished photographic locations. The falls descend gracefully through a steep gorge, surrounded by lush temperate rainforest dominated by ancient myrtle beech trees (Nothofagus cunninghamii), which contribute to the forest’s rich biodiversity and striking beauty.

The approach to Hopetoun Falls requires a gentle 30-minute walk along a well-maintained trail, winding through dense ferns and towering tree trunks that evoke the area’s long geological and ecological history. Over the past two decades, I have documented the falls extensively, noting significant changes in the environment, such as the increased accumulation of large fallen logs at the base of the cascade—remnants of the forest’s natural cycles of growth and decay. My earliest photographs, taken before these changes became pronounced, reveal a clearer, more unobstructed view of the water’s powerful descent.

The Beech Forest itself holds great natural heritage significance, forming part of the Great Otway National Park, an area that preserves ancient ecosystems that have persisted for millions of years. This forest and waterfall not only offer stunning scenery but also represent a vital refuge for numerous native species, making Hopetoun Falls a site of both scenic and ecological importance. Despite its popularity and the increasing number of visitors, which sometimes detracts from the tranquil atmosphere, Hopetoun Falls remains a timeless and inspiring symbol of Australia’s unique natural heritage.

Pentax K10D

DA 14mm f2.8

Linking Water H2O Thursday

Brisbane Street Signs for Sign2

 

I have shared little thus far from my journey to Brisbane last year, though I recently came across a number of street photographs I had taken during the trip. Next week, I shall be travelling to Sydney to attend a geriatric conference. With some fortune, I hope to witness and capture the city’s illuminated evening events while I am there.

Sony A7RV

FE 20-70mm f4 G

Linking Sign2

Loch Ard Gorge, Great Ocean Road for Treasure Tuesday

 

Loch Ard Gorge, situated along the Great Ocean Road in Victoria, Australia, is one of the most captivating coastal landscapes in the country. I miss this spot very much. Though windy and rainy most times, the sea is a gift from nature—a powerful, ever-changing presence that both humbles and inspires.

Geologically, the gorge is a testament to the raw force of erosion. Formed from soft limestone laid down 15 to 20 million years ago during the Miocene epoch, the cliffs and sea stacks of this coastline have been sculpted by wind, rain, and relentless wave action. Loch Ard Gorge itself came into being when an underground cave collapsed, leaving behind a narrow inlet framed by towering limestone walls and a hidden sandy beach. This is part of a larger system that includes other famous landmarks like the Twelve Apostles and London Arch—all gradually shaped and reshaped by the sea.

But the gorge holds more than just natural beauty; it carries a poignant human story. In 1878, the clipper ship Loch Ard struck a reef near nearby Mutton-bird Island in heavy fog after a long voyage from England. Of the 54 passengers and crew on board, only two survived—Tom Pearce, a ship’s apprentice, and Eva Carmichael, a young Irishwoman. Their dramatic survival and rescue unfolded within the very gorge that now bears the ship’s name, turning it into a place of both natural wonder and quiet remembrance.

Today, visitors to Loch Ard Gorge can explore trails and lookouts that offer views of the dramatic coastline and read about the shipwreck that gave the site its name. The area also lies within the traditional lands of the Gunditjmara people, whose deep connection to this region stretches back tens of thousands of years.

Standing there, with the wind whipping through the gorge and waves crashing against the cliffs, it’s easy to feel both the immense power of nature and the layers of history it holds. Though often moody with weather, the sea remains a gift—timeless, untamed, and unforgettable.

Linking Treasure Tuesday

Nullawil Silo Art, Victoria Australia for Mural Monday

 

The Nullawil Silo Art, located in the small rural town of Nullawil in Victoria, is part of the renowned Australian Silo Art Trail. Completed in July 2019 by street artist Smug (Sam Bates), the mural features a striking and realistic depiction of a farmer and his working kelpie dog. The artwork celebrates the strong bond between rural Australians and their working dogs, symbolizing themes of resilience, community, and country life.

Painted on a disused grain silo, the mural has become a cultural and tourist landmark, drawing visitors to the otherwise quiet town. It reflects both artistic excellence and the spirit of regional Australia, contributing to the growing movement of turning industrial structures into large-scale public art. The Nullawil silo is praised for its incredible detail, lifelike quality, and emotional warmth.

Sony A7RV

FE 20-70mm f4 G

Linking Mural Monday

Upon returning home to Bendigo, I discovered that a fuse in the motherboard had likely blown. The house, being quite old, has required increasingly frequent maintenance, and the costs have begun to accumulate significantly over the years. It seems that last month’s wages will once again be consumed by repairs. Small wonder, then, that so many around us have resigned themselves to merely “lying flat,” doing only the bare minimum to keep the machine of life running.

More from Lake Sanitarium Mount Macedon for Sunday Best

 

That is another charming pixie parasol from the verdant forests of Mount Macedon, Victoria, near the historic Lake Sanatorium. The image was produced through focus stacking, combining fifty exposures to achieve remarkable clarity and depth. I previously attempted to stack one hundred exposures; however, the resulting image was of inferior quality compared to that obtained with fifty shots.

The panorama displayed here depicts Joel and myself engaged in foraging amidst the dense and ancient woodlands of Mount Macedon. These forests, renowned for their towering mountain ash and cool temperate flora, surround the serene Lake Sanatorium—a place rich in both natural beauty and historical significance.

Sony A7RV

Sigma 105mm f2.8 Macro

Linking Sunday Best

Buffy Fish Owl in Bird Park for Saturday Critter

 

During my visit to a distinguished bird park in Japan, I found myself seated amidst a group of kindergarten children, quietly delighting in an educational lecture on the avian wonders of the world. Among the many splendid species exhibited, one particular creature drew my attention—a striking owl perched solemnly before us.

This noble bird was the Buffy Fish Owl (Ketupa ketupu), a species native to the dense riverine forests and mangroves of Southeast Asia. Recognisable by its bold yellow eyes, long lateral ear tufts, and mottled tawny plumage, the Buffy Fish Owl is uniquely adapted to its riparian habitat. Unlike many of its nocturnal kin, this owl is often crepuscular, most active at dawn and dusk, where it employs remarkable patience and keen vision to prey upon fish, crustaceans, amphibians, and small reptiles.

Unlike owls that rely solely on silent flight, the Buffy Fish Owl often perches low over water, striking swiftly when it sights movement beneath the surface. Its feather structure lacks the full silencing adaptations of other owls, a compromise in favor of resisting the moisture of its preferred environment.

As I listened to the naturalist’s words, surrounded by the innocent curiosity of children and the lush foliage of the park’s conservatory, I felt a profound appreciation for the marvels of avian biology—and for the rare opportunity to behold such a fascinating and elusive bird from distant shores.

Fujifilm XPRO2

Fujinon 16-55mm f2.8

Linking Saturday critter

Joel preferred to leave the coast behind and venture further into an urban setting, intending to experiment with the remaining bright lenses we had acquired for bokeh photography.

Mungo National Park sky for Sky Watch Friday

 

It was during one of those long, wind-swept nights beneath the vast, starlit expanse of the Australian outback that I attempted a panoramic photograph—an effort made while Joel and I waited patiently to capture the Milky Way in all its nocturnal splendor. In those youthful and impassioned days, we were possessed by a singular devotion to the art of photography. No hardship deterred us; we would endure scorching days and frigid nights, often in complete solitude, all for the hope of a single, perfect image that might capture the eternal.

Our vigil took place in the hauntingly beautiful Mungo National Park, a land steeped in both geological and human antiquity. The Park, part of the Willandra Lakes Region World Heritage Area, is home to the enigmatic formations known as the "Walls of China"—spectacular lunettes shaped by the elements over tens of thousands of years. These sculpted ridges, composed of eroded sand and clay, rise like the remnants of an ancient civilization, their strata whispering tales of climate shifts, vanished lakes, and the passage of deep time.

It was here, amidst the ghostly contours of this primeval terrain, that we lingered. The very ground beneath us bore the imprint of some of the earliest known human beings on the Australian continent. The remains of Mungo Man and Mungo Lady—buried with ceremonial care over 40,000 years ago—had been discovered not far from where we stood, lending our modern artistic pursuit a solemn sense of continuity with those who had gazed upon the same stars in an age unimaginably distant.

Though our lenses sought the ephemeral beauty of the heavens, it was the timeless silence of the land that truly left its mark. In that moment, as the night wrapped us in stillness and the ancient rocks glowed faintly in the starlight, our dedication to photography seemed not merely an artistic endeavor, but a dialogue—one between past and present, between the eternal sky and the ever-changing earth.

Sony A7RV 

FE 70-200mm f2.8 GM

Linking Sky watch Friday

La La Creek in Warburton Melbourne for Water H2O Thursday

 

The journey from Melbourne to La La Creek in Warburton is oftentimes a test of patience. Each township en route enforces a strict speed limit of 50 kilometres per hour, and the frequent deceleration through these settlements serves only to prolong the wearying passage. Yet, upon arrival, all such inconveniences are swiftly forgotten.

La La Creek, nestled within the tranquil folds of the Yarra Ranges, offers a quietude that soothes the spirit. In winter, the air is brisk and pure, and the perennial murmur of the creek weaves through the forested glen like a thread of silver sound. The absence of mosquitoes during the colder months renders the experience all the more agreeable, allowing one to linger undisturbed by the banks of this gentle watercourse.

Once a source of life and sustenance for the Wurundjeri people and later a site frequented by timber-cutters and bushwalkers alike, the creek now flows in peaceful retirement, its mossy stones and fern-fringed edges recalling a natural history both rich and enduring. Here, beneath towering mountain ash and alongside trails softened by fallen leaves, one finds a serenity rare in the modern world.

Sony A7RV

FE 20-70mm f4 G

Linking Water H2O Thursday

Collins Street Road Sign in Melbourne for Sign2

 

These are simply candid street photographs taken along Collins Street. As some signs appeared incidentally within the frames, I have chosen to feature them as part of this week’s theme.

Earlier this week, I received a call from Joel, who shared with me a rather troubling incident involving his son. The boy, during a philosophy class at school, had quoted the words of the philosopher Nietzsche, saying, “We have killed God. Humans have killed God...”—a reference, of course, to Nietzsche’s profound critique of modernity and the decline of religious faith in Western society.

Regrettably, the teacher, evidently young and unfamiliar with Nietzsche’s work, misconstrued the remark as an act of blasphemy. Rather than recognising the statement as a pivotal moment in philosophical discourse, she responded by issuing the boy a detention.

It is both disheartening and perplexing that one entrusted with the instruction of philosophy should possess so little acquaintance with its foundational thinkers. How is one to teach the great questions of existence, morality, and belief without a proper understanding of those who have shaped the discipline through the ages?

Sony A7RV

FE 35mm f1.4 GM

Linking Sign2 and FACE OFF

I am enjoying Micky 17 on Max. What a good story!

Pixie Parasol in Lake Sanitarium Mount Macedon for Treasure Tuesday

 

Around this season each year, we venture into the woodlands of Mount Macedon, near Lake Sanitarium, in pursuit of the delicate and elusive wild mushrooms that flourish briefly in the damp and shaded understory. This annual tradition of mushroom hunting is both a ritual and a delight, a quiet communion with the rhythms of the forest. Yet, this year, our efforts have thus far borne no fruit. Twice we have searched the familiar grounds, only to find the earth ungenerous. The unseasonably warm weather has likely discouraged the fungi from their usual emergence, for they thrive best in cooler, moisture-laden air.

Nevertheless, in the spirit of perseverance and appreciation for nature’s finer details, Joel and I turned our attention to the craft of focus stacking—an intricate photographic technique suited for capturing these minute woodland organisms in their full dimensional glory. Each specimen demands patience and precision: we take between twenty and fifty images of a single frame, adjusting focus ever so slightly with each exposure. These are captured wide open, at the lens’s brightest aperture, allowing for maximum light and subtle depth. The process, though meticulous, borders on artistry. Thankfully, modern tools like Adobe Photoshop now make the post-processing more accessible, layering these images into a singular, sharply focused result.

I am truly enamored with the outcome. The images reveal the mushrooms as they are—young, tender sprouts, barely rising from the mossy floor. Their forms are delicate, almost otherworldly in their fragility.

Joel, ever the skilled forager, has an uncanny ability to find the pixie parasol—Mycena interrupta—a rare and enchanting species distinguished by its luminous blue hue and ephemeral presence. His knowledge borders on the encyclopedic, and he often jests, with an arched brow and a knowing smile, “What would you do without me?” Indeed, his companionship and expertise are as indispensable as the forest itself in our shared pursuit of these botanical treasures.

In these quiet moments beneath the towering eucalyptus and mountain ash, surrounded by the ancient breath of the earth, one is reminded that even in scarcity, the forest offers gifts to those who look closely.

Sony A7RV

Sigma 105mm f2.8 Macro

Linking Treasure Tuesday

Fitzroy St Murals for Mural Monday

 

These photographs, taken during my former wanderings through the storied precincts of Fitzroy in Melbourne, form a modest yet treasured archive of days past. Though some images have weathered time gracefully and others appear worn or unrefined, each holds a certain charm for me—vestiges of solitary afternoons spent observing the character of the city through the lens of my camera.

Fitzroy, long regarded as Melbourne’s cradle of bohemian culture, has earned renown for its vibrant and often provocative street art. From the 1970s onwards, its laneways and brick facades became the canvas for an evolving urban dialogue—first through political slogans and stencil art, and later through intricate murals and large-scale commissions that drew artists from across the globe. The suburb’s walls speak in colour and form, telling stories of rebellion, community, and cultural transformation.

In such an environment, every corner bore the potential for artistic revelation. My photowalks, humble though they were, sought to capture fleeting intersections between light, decay, and expression. Some of the images reflect this energy vividly; others merely hint at it. Regardless of composition or clarity, these photographs are to me what relics are to a historian: fragments that, when assembled, speak not only of place, but of time and of one’s quiet presence within it.

They may not all gleam with technical finesse, but they are, in their own right, memory’s keepsakes—witness to an era in which Fitzroy’s streets breathed with defiant creativity and untamed spirit.

Sony A7RV

Sigma 17mm f4 

Linking Mural Monday