I walked a small track along the edge of the Oyster Harbour estuary almost daily for more than 20 years. I saw the colour of the water change with the sun, the clouds and the tannin that came down the Kalgan River after heavy rain. I saw grey days when mizzle washed all the colour away from water and sky, leaving a dense silence. After storms, I saw sea grass wrack washed up high onto the shore and wrapped around the base of the paperbarks. On winter evenings, I saw clouds lift just above the horizon and a shaft of sunset colour the fishing boat’s circle of pelicans as pink as flamingos.

I can see a landscape and admire it. I may even take a photograph to remind me of it, but when I walked the track along this Albany estuary I didn’t see it in a snapshot. I saw it in morning light, evening light, in different weather, season to season and year to year. Landscapes are dynamic, and observing the estuary and its shore over time enabled me to build a special relationship and a deep memory of place.