I’m a photographer who writes to paraphrase Austin Kleon. Therefore, my blog combines posts on books (reading, writing, musing over), lots of photos (all taken by me, unless otherwise stated), culture and arts in general, some astronomy and space (I’m a Science-Fiction fan), and cats as cats rule the internet.
Not much time? Read My Top Ten Blog Posts.
I’m beyond excited to share some big news: my online shop has finally gotten a fresh, fabulous update, and it’s packed with goodies that’ll bring the beauty of the wild right into your life!
Whether you’re looking to spruce up your home, deck out your workspace, or find the perfect gift, I’ve got something for everyone—and every budget. Let’s dive into what’s new and why you’ll want to swing by the shop ASAP.
A Treasure Trove of Prints and Gifts
So, what’s in store? My updated shop is bursting with stunning nature and wildlife photography prints that capture those jaw-dropping moments in the wild. Think vibrant landscapes, soulful animal portraits, and everything in between. Here’s a quick peek at the print lineup:
But wait, there’s more! I’ve added a bunch of fun, nature-inspired gifts that are as practical as they are pretty. Check these out:
No matter your budget, there’s something here to spark joy and bring a slice of the outdoors into your world.
Why Shop My Collection?
Every photo in my shop is a labor of love. From the moment I’m out in the field, waiting for that perfect shot, to the final print or gift, I pour my heart into making sure each piece is top-notch. These aren’t just products—they’re little windows into the wild, meant to inspire awe and remind us how amazing our planet is. Plus, when you shop in my online shop, you’re supporting my passion for photography and helping me keep capturing the beauty of nature. How cool is that?
Can’t Find What You Want? Let’s Chat!
I’ve tried to pack the shop with as much variety as possible, but if you’re dreaming of something specific—like a certain print size, a custom gift, or a photo you saw on my Instagram—don’t worry! Just hit me up using the Contact form on my site. I’m all about making sure you get exactly what you’re looking for, and I’m happy to answer any questions you might have. Seriously, don’t be shy—let’s make some nature magic happen!
Let’s Bring the Wild Home
Ready to add a touch of the wilderness to your life? Head over to my online shop and explore the new collection. Whether it’s a framed print for your living room, a mug for your coffee breaks, or a phone case that screams you, there’s a piece waiting to make your day a little brighter. And if you’re shopping for gifts (holiday season, anyone?), these nature-inspired goodies are sure to wow.
Thank you so much for supporting my work—it means the world to me and keeps me out there chasing those perfect shots. Pop by the shop, browse around, and let me know what you love! Oh, and be sure to follow me on Instagram for sneak peeks of new photos and behind-the-scenes fun.
Happy shopping, and let’s keep the wild alive together!
Love my work? Support my journey by buying me a coffee or sharing it on your preferred social network. And don’t forget to swing by my online shop to check out my latest prints and gifts. Thank you 🙏 !
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In youth from rock to rock I went,
From hill to hill, in discontent
Of pleasure high and turbulent,
Most pleas’d when most uneasy;
But now my own delights I make,
My thirst at every rill can slake,
And gladly Nature’s love partake
Of thee, sweet Daisy!
2
When soothed a while by milder airs,
Thee Winter in the garland wears
That thinly shades his few grey hairs;
Spring cannot shun thee;
Whole summer fields are thine by right;
And Autumn, melancholy Wight!
Doth in thy crimson head delight
When rains are on thee.
In shoals and bands, a morrice train,
Thou greet’st the Traveller in the lane;
If welcome once thou count’st it gain;
Thou art not daunted,
Nor car’st if thou be set at naught;
And oft alone in nooks remote
We meet thee, like a pleasant thought,
When such are wanted.
3
Be Violets in their secret mews
The flowers the wanton Zephyrs chuse;
Proud be the Rose, with rains and dews
Her head impearling;
Thou liv’st with less ambitious aim,
Yet hast not gone without thy fame;
Thou art indeed by many a claim
The Poet’s darling.
If to a rock from rains he fly,
Or, some bright day of April sky,
Imprison’d by hot sunshine lie
Near the green holly,
And wearily at length should fare;
He need but look about, and there
Thou art! a Friend at hand, to scare
His melancholy.
4
A hundred times, by rock or bower,
Ere thus I have lain couch’d an hour,
Have I derived from thy sweet power
Some apprehension;
Some steady love; some brief delight;
Some memory that had taken flight;
Some chime of fancy wrong or right;
Or stray invention.
If stately passions in me burn,
And one chance look to Thee should turn,
I drink out of an humbler urn
A lowlier pleasure;
The homely sympathy that heeds
The common life, our nature breeds;
A wisdom fitted to the needs
Of hearts at leisure.
5
When, smitten by the morning ray,
I see thee rise alert and gay,
Then, cheerful Flower! my spirits play
With kindred motion:
At dusk, I’ve seldom mark’d thee press
The ground, as if in thankfulness
Without some feeling, more or less,
Of true devotion.
And all day long I number yet,
All seasons through another debt,
Which I wherever thou art met,
To thee am owing;
An instinct call it, a blind sense;
A happy, genial influence,
Coming one knows not how nor whence,
Nor whither going.
6
Child of the Year! that round dost run
Thy course, bold lover of the sun,
And cheerful when the day’s begun
As morning Leveret,
Thou long the Poet’s praise shalt gain:
Thou wilt be more belov’d by men
In times to come; thou not in vain
Art Nature’s Favorite.
William Wordsworth (1770 – 1850) was an English Romantic poet who, with Samuel Taylor Coleridge, helped to launch the Romantic Age in English literature with their joint publication Lyrical Ballads (1798).
To read more poems, click here.
Love my work? Support my journey by buying me a coffee or sharing it on your preferred social network. And don’t forget to swing by my online shop to check out my latest prints and gifts. Thank you 🙏 !
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Two young kangaroos sparring at sunset. This is how they learn to fight, first with their mother and then with other young males. As they grow, sparring with other males helps them establish their position within the mob. With experience, the sparring sessions become longer and more intense.
Kangaroos use their sharp claws, strong back legs, and muscular tails —capable of supporting their entire body weight — to deliver powerful kicks that could disembowel a human.
However, these youngsters were only playing and started grooming each other shortly afterward.
The cutest koala ❤️. I was lucky to get this shot as the handsome boy went to sleep directly afterward; koalas sleep most of the time (18 to 20 hours a day) because they need all their energy to digest the poisonous eucalyptus leaves they eat.
Although koalas seem like they would be easy to photograph since they don’t move around much, this is only true if you’re okay with capturing images of sleeping koalas. If you’re hoping to find a more active koala, be prepared for a lot of patience.
A red squirrel from last year. The gardening season has started and I’m mostly out in the garden and not indoors editing photos this time of the year.
This is a crocodile photo I edited for the upcoming World Crocodile Day. I like using these special days to raise awareness about animals and, to be honest, it also makes writing a photo caption easier.
And a squirrel because I love squirrels ❤️ as you know.
Love my work? Support my journey by buying me a coffee or sharing it on your preferred social network. And don’t forget to swing by my online shop to check out my latest prints and gifts. Thank you 🙏 !
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The line-storm clouds fly tattered and swift,
The road is forlorn all day,
Where a myriad snowy quartz stones lift,
And the hoof-prints vanish away.
The roadside flowers, too wet for the bee,
Expend their bloom in vain.
Come over the hills and far with me,
And be my love in the rain.
The birds have less to say for themselves
In the wood-world’s torn despair
Than now these numberless years the elves,
Although they are no less there:
All song of the woods is crushed like some
Wild, easily shattered rose.
Come, be my love in the wet woods; come,
Where the boughs rain when it blows.
There is the gale to urge behind
And bruit our singing down,
And the shallow waters aflutter with wind
From which to gather your gown.
What matter if we go clear to the west,
And come not through dry-shod?
For wilding brooch shall wet your breast
The rain-fresh goldenrod.
Oh, never this whelming east wind swells
But it seems like the sea’s return
To the ancient lands where it left the shells
Before the age of the fern;
And it seems like the time when after doubt
Our love came back amain.
Oh, come forth into the storm and rout
And be my love in the rain.
Robert Frost (1874 – 1963) was an American poet and winner of four Pulitzer Prizes, most known for The Road Not Taken (a poem often read during graduation ceremonies), Fire and Ice, Mending Wall, Nothing Gold Can Stay, and Home Burial.
To read more poems, click here.
Love my work? Support my journey by buying me a coffee or sharing it on your preferred social network. And don’t forget to swing by my online shop to check out my latest prints and gifts. Thank you 🙏 !
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A photograph is a secret about a secret. The more it tells you the less you know.
Diane Arbus (1923 – 1971) was an American photographer best known for her intimate black-and-white portraits.
To read more quotes, click here.
Love my work? Support my journey by buying me a coffee or sharing it on your preferred social network. And don’t forget to swing by my online shop to check out my latest prints and gifts. Thank you 🙏 !
Follow me on Instagram | Facebook | Threads | LinkedIn | Tumblr | X | Buy Me A Coffee
On a night of whirling snow
When every twig and star is dead
There is a house where I can go
And knock and enter and be fed
With fire and wine; and as we grumble
Winter ceases on the panes.
The outer heights of darkness tumble
Down and in upon our brains,
And sitting there so bitter-bright
We build a season of our own—
Of cynic ice and sudden white
Blasts of understanding blown.
Mark Van Doren (1894 – 1972) was an American poet, writer and critic.
To read more poems, click here.
Love my work? Support my journey by buying me a coffee or sharing it on your preferred social network. And don’t forget to swing by my online shop to check out my latest prints and gifts. Thank you 🙏 !
Follow me on Instagram | Facebook | Threads | LinkedIn | Tumblr | X | Buy Me A Coffee
The difference between art and craft lies not in the tools you hold in your hands, but in the mental set that guides them. For the artisan, craft is an end in itself. For you, the artist, craft is the vehicle for expressing your vision. Craft is the visible edge of art.
David Bayles (b. 1952) is an American photographer and author.
To read more quotes, click here.
In the very early morning
Long before Dawn time
I lay down in the paddock
And listened to the cold song of the grass.
Between my fingers the green blades,
And the green blades pressed against my body.
“Who is she leaning so heavily upon me?”
Sang the grass.
“Why does she weep on my bosom,
Mingling her tears with the tears of my mystic lover?
Foolish little earth child!
It is not yet time.
One day I shall open my bosom
And you shall slip in—but not weeping.
Then in the early morning
Long before Dawn time
Your lover will lie in the paddock.
Between his fingers the green blades
And the green blades pressed against his body . . .
My song shall not sound cold to him
In my deep wave he will find the wave of your hair
In my strong sweet perfume, the perfume of your kisses.
Long and long he will lie there . . .
Laughing—not weeping.”
Katherine Mansfield (1888 – 1923) was a New Zealand writer and critic who was an important figure in the modernist movement.
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With a difference — Hamlet.
Again the bloom, the northward flight,
The fount freed at its silver height,
And down the deep woods to the lowest,
The fragrant shadows scarred with light.
O inescapable joy of spring!
For thee the world shall leap and sing;
But by her darkened door thou goest
Forever as a spectral thing.
Louise Imogen Guiney (1861 – 1920) was an American poet, essayist and editor.
To read more poems, click here.
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