Marie and I spent Christmas and New Year in Tasmania in 2014. Instead of following our usual holiday routine, we decided to take a trip and explore somewhere new together.
It was also one of the first times we travelled with DSLR cameras and had started to think more seriously about photography. We were still learning, still experimenting, and almost every place we visited felt like an opportunity to see something differently.
Before leaving home we had read about a place called The Nut at Stanley. The photographs we saw showed a large volcanic formation rising sharply from the coastline. It looked dramatic and slightly mysterious, and we were curious to see how it would feel standing there in person.
When we arrived, the scale of it immediately stood out.
The town itself sits quietly around the base of the formation, with small houses gathered along the shoreline. From a distance the photographs we had seen began to make sense. The Nut is not just an unusual geological feature — it completely shapes the character of the town and the landscape around it.
I made this photograph while walking along the beach that afternoon.
From that vantage point the broad sweep of sand and the calm water seemed to frame the scene, while the town settled gently against the base of the formation. The Nut rose above everything else, solid and unmistakable between the sea and the sky.
Later that evening we welcomed the new year at the small restaurant attached to the motel where we were staying on the far side of The Nut. The evening was relaxed and cheerful, the food excellent, and there was something enjoyable about celebrating the moment in a place that still felt unfamiliar.
From time to time we talk about going back to Stanley, although so far we haven’t made the journey again.
Yet the photograph keeps the place present for us.
Whenever I look at it, I’m reminded not only of the landscape but also of that early period when photography was beginning to take on a larger role in our lives. It was a time when every trip felt like a small adventure, and every photograph felt like part of a much longer journey still unfolding.
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