Moments to remember, as captured by Graziher readers

We manage a very remote cattle station in the Northern Territory. We moved here with our two daughters Ruby, who was 18 months old at the time, and Della, who was not quite a week in the world. I have been questioned many times: why do we live there and how do we do it?

I contemplate the why: is there something in the red dirt that must trickle into your blood when you’re trying to scrub it off in the shower? The often dramatic weather and colourful skies take your breath away, but not quite as much as a cold morning with the winds of the Tanami Desert whipping your face in the middle of the dry. We have been fortunate enough to witness wet seasons here we may never get to see again, pelicans miles from sea landing next to the house and hundreds of birds making their home at the Sturt Creek while there’s water. We have fought and looked on helplessly as fire took over half the place last year.

The ‘how’, I think, is we just do. As a mother I am less part of the action when it comes to cattle work (some days I manage to sit in the saddle and it’s grand) but I have taken to trying to capture ordinary life around me with my camera. My little girls will dress like princesses and walk in my high heels but will matter-of-factly tell you about how the steak you’re eating is from a killer. I hope they can look back at their childhood and recall helping Dad at work, learning about life — sometimes the hard way — but just maybe I have helped set them up for the tough world they will go out into.

I grew up with both dairy and beef cattle, and occasionally a few goats and sheep. I work in agriculture at a Boer goat and dorper stud (plus I work as a waitress as well) and am currently finishing a degree in journalism and advertising. I fell into photography somewhat accidentally because my sister and friend were both carrying cameras around and I felt slightly left out.

From this beginning, I discovered film photography using my grandmother’s old point-and-shoot camera, and I guess it kind of snowballed from there. I shoot digital, film and drone images. The images here are a combination of all that: work, home and road trips.

There were two pivotal moments in my life that led me to where I am now. One was when my life in the city came to a halt as my plans to move to Cambodia had fallen through, leaving me lost and unsure of where to go and what I was destined to do. The other was when my housemate at the time gave me advice I needed to hear, “You know exactly what you want to do, you want to work on stations, like your mum.”

Prior to these moments I had become very accustomed to the urban lifestyle of chai lattes and cocktails. “Well, mate, come home and give it a crack, but it’ll either make or break you. It’s not for everyone, especially women,” were the words of advice from Mum that sealed my decision for my new adventure.

Fast-forward six years, and here I am. From a crash course on how to saddle a horse to running a stock camp, this journey has been an experience.

My photos are a showcase of the moments that remind me why I’m in this industry. When long and hard days make me wonder why I gave up my nine-to-five job, I reminisce on memories that would have never been created in the concrete world.

Contrary to popular belief, life in a stock camp is glamorous. We’re given the opportunity to experience a world that beholds so much beauty. And it goes beyond the typical landscapes and sunrises. It’s in the white teeth that shine through a dirt covered face, grinning at the larrikin of the camp. It’s in the hand that runs down the neck of a horse that’s just been fed after a long day. It’s in deals that are still sealed by a handshake. The “You got him!” words of encouragement thrown to your mate who’s drawn the rogue horse for that day’s muster.

Now I am settling into my next chapter, as I swap the stock camps for motherhood. I hope I will get to spend more time behind the lens, showcasing our unheard stories; documenting my fondest memories and moments: low on quality, high on quantity.

Dad went to America in 1980 with his parter at the time and another couple. The four of them travelled across the US in a camper van, skiing and touring. There are old photos of that trip floating about. I use his 44-year-old Pentax ME Super film camera (I still have the original receipt from Camera Corral, in Jackson, Wyoming, in 1980) and I brought it with me to work in the west. That is what makes up my social media page, The West on Film. All my images are shot on film, and then mailed to my mother to have them developed.

I love film because it feels like it captures a really genuine moment, and maybe the photos tend to be a bit more considered just due to the sheer cost of taking a photo and turning it into an image. Then there’s the anticipation: it can be months before I get the shots back and see how they turned out.

I took the camera out of curiosity, I enjoyed the idea of being like my dad. I get quite anxious at the idea of being photographed myself and I find that people tend to be less anxious around that old film camera. I still cannot take a decent digital photo, despite all the coaching and advice!