There’s a place close to home where sheoaks and melaleucas dance with the wind, the smell of pine hangs in the air after autumn rain. It has always been there, a strip of land between urbanisation and the lake, called The Reserve.

The Reserve at Tuggerawong, nature’s aviary, where we mere mortals can immerse ourselves in the sounds and colours of such regal creatures as the royal spoonbill, the wary grey heron, the bountiful ibis and communities of sandpipers.

As the seasons change, food supplies alter and with them the winged messengers. Sulphur-crested cockatoos make way for hundreds of corellas; black swans for myriads of pelicans. Migrating shorebirds wade on the fringe of the lake among the weed, searching for morsels.

As blossoms appear on the Melaleuca’s, lorikeets and parrots of all kinds take up residence, letting us know that this is their territory.

Lockdown!

“Stay at home” we were told. This was terrifying for someone like me, who suffers from claustrophobia and cabin fever. Then: “You are allowed to leave home to exercise.”

Hallelujah!

Masked up, camera and water bottle in hand, I embark on my daily foray, across the road, down the lane and in two minutes — freedom, a refuge. I am surrounded by nature, bathing in the beauty of the lake as it changes colours throughout the day.

I feel a sense of excitement as there, in the shadows, a royal spoonbill and heron wade. Mother and father plover teach their young to forage in the weeds. Magpies herald the day, carolling high in the treetops. My ever-ready 300 mm lens aims, ‘click!’ Captured. A moment in time that will be immortalised in an art work.

As a printmaker, I see the resemblance between the printmakers plate — the matrix — and The Reserve. The image of the plate remains constant, as does the strip of land between home and lake. But no matter how often you visit The Reserve, there is always something new to awaken the senses and please the visitor.

This is a special place. It is my home.