So here's how it went down—I barely got a “good morning” out before I was reaching for the camera. That sky? Already putting on a show. Colour bleeding through the mist, calm water like glass, and dead trees reaching up like bones from the water. Classic moody magic.
We’re at Wyaralong Dam in Queensland, and I’ve got the brilliant Wendy Klein with me - legend, really. She brought me to this spot, and wow, what a gift it turned out to be. Spoiler: you’ll want to bring a towel and maybe a pair of waterproof shoes next time…
When I say we had to hit the ground running, I mean it. The colour was already fading, so I literally plonked my camera down and started firing.
And then came the joy: reflections so perfect you could flip the image and barely tell.
Call it strange, but I love shooting what I call dead things in water. There's something about the stillness, the decay, the way light plays across the surface—it’s poetic in a way only nature and a wide lens can deliver.
This spot? It was overflowing with that mood. The water was calm, the trees were skeletal, and the mist was starting to whisper through the scene.
“It’s just… absolutely gorgeous.”
Pro Tip: Let Your Camera Sleep Outside
Here’s a trick I’ve learned (the hard way): if you're shooting in humid, misty conditions like this, don’t bring your camera straight from an air-conditioned room or warm car into the field. It'll fog up. Fast.
Instead, I left my gear in the car overnight, bag open, so it could acclimate. No lens fog, no surprise condensation. Just clean glass, ready to go.
Mist, Mood & Movement
We had a little mist dancing along the dam. Not heaps—but just enough to add texture and softness behind the trees. The kind of mist that teases you, makes you hope it builds just a bit more before the sun burns it off.
I spun the camera around to reframe—there was a lovely group of trees in the other direction—and I adjusted the polariser to kill some of the glare and pull out reflections. The water was high and mucky though, and my tripod was sinking into what felt like pudding.
“Looks like solid ground… it’s not. That’s mush.”
ISO125 | f16 | 16mm | 1.5 seconds
Composing With Intention
As the sky started to brighten, I knew the window was closing. I did a few things to maximize what I had:
Reframed to catch the light between the trees, playing with how it filtered through
Focus stacked a couple of shots to keep the trunks sharp but let the background soften
Cloned out a few twigs in post (because let’s be honest—some things just don’t add to the image)
Even did a couple of 1- and 2-second exposures to try and flatten some water ripples without losing texture.
One of my favourite moments? Realising a small move to the left made all the difference. Suddenly, that patch of light tucked itself between two trees perfectly. Composition is everything.
“It’s more difficult to shoot from here—but the eye loves it.”
Final Frames and Feelings
The sun finally started breaking through—bright, backlit, and intense. The mist lifted, and the moment passed. But I’d gotten what I came for: serenity, symmetry, and stillness.
Wrapped up the session with one last shot—golden light, silhouetted trees, soft water.
“It just is… beautiful.”
Thanks to Wendy & This Lovely Landscape
Massive thanks to Wendy Klein for the invite and the company. This place? It’s special. Not because it’s famous or dramatic—but because it’s subtle. It asks you to be quiet, to move slowly, to look.
And I’m glad I did.
“Please look after yourself, look after your loved ones. Until next time—see ya.”
If you wish to follow the adventure and see how I overcome the challenges that hinders us all on location. If you do please visit the full video on my YouTube channel here.
