I have a deep passion for aerial photography — not with drones, but from the seat of a helicopter, where everything feels more instinctive to me. This image was taken during my second journey to a remote region north of Perth, in Western Australia. Vast, wild, and largely untouched, this part of the world offers a fascinating canvas shaped by tides, light, and time.
My process begins with research on Google Earth, where I look for patterns and textures. I then schedule flights according to the tides, which in this region can rise and fall by five to seven meters. All flights were early in the morning or late in the afternoon, when the light is soft and revealing. This photograph was taken at 7 am, just as the sun began to skim the surface of the water. The light made the sandbanks shimmer, a gift but also a technical challenge, as the beauty of the scene came with a risk of overexposure. I had to adjust the camera settings carefully, balancing brightness with the constant movement of the aircraft. What moved me most was how the light revealed delicate formations in the sand, left behind by the retreating tide. They reminded me of tree roots stretching toward the sea — not roots, of course, but the metaphor felt powerful. There is something deeply organic in these natural lines, a pulse that echoes both life and transience.
This image became part of a series I later titled Roots. Post-production is an essential part of my creative process; not to distort reality, but to express my emotional response. For this photograph, I chose tones inspired by earth and vegetation, gently enhancing the natural light already present to guide the viewer’s eye. If I have one regret, it’s not having had the chance to return to these areas at different times of day (helicopter flights are a little bit expensive). The shifting light and tides might have revealed even more layers, more stories to tell. But perhaps that’s what keeps the desire alive: the sense that the land always has more to offer, if you take the time to truly look.
