Even though most of my work leans into urban structure—grit, glass, tension—I’ve always had a quiet respect for wildlife. There’s no theatre to it. No performance. Just the animal, the place, the moment—and if you’re lucky, a stillness worth keeping.
I was walking along the edge of a coastal cliff when I spotted these gannets. They were balanced on a ledge with the sea behind them, facing away from each other like some kind of mirrored sculpture. No squawking, no movement—just this calm, almost meditative presence. I slowed down and took my time framing the shot. The background dropped off just enough to isolate them against the haze. Soft light helped bring out the fine feather texture. It felt like everything lined up for once.
This image is now part of the Bird Photography Collection on my main site. If you’re drawn to more subtle wildlife moments, it’s available as a hand-signed wall art print—cleanly composed, quietly observed, and printed to retain every soft curve and sharp line.
There’s something sculptural about gannets. The way they align themselves. The lines of their wings and beaks. In the wild, they seem designed—minimal and intentional. And that’s exactly what I tried to honour with this frame.
If this resonates, you might also want to revisit the elk encounter I shared from Grand Canyon National Park. Very different subject. Same idea: no planning, no interference—just a moment waiting to be seen.
