Magic happens when you least expect it. Most often when I set out for a walk with my camera I don’t have a particular image in mind as a goal. It’s more a state of mind that’s prepared to accept what the world – in this case the forest or sea or grasses – give me.

I take photographs when it feels like time stands still. This can happen at any moment and in any place. It’s a matter of looking and of luck. And it’s a matter of not forcing the moment; allowing the moment to appear unannounced and unforced. Regularly I’m drawn to a particular spot where light plays with shadows.

Like when the leaves of a fern become radiant and golden in the blazing sun’s afternoon fall light. How can word’s adequately describe such a moment? That’s where silence and pictures take over. At such moments I’m in the grip of a sense that change is the only constant in life. That everything changes. I feel a deep kinship with the fern leaf and this moment when its changes are so radiant. The fern is golden at the end of its season. I’m filled with awe and that brings peace and acceptance.

In my photograph I try to honour that moment so the image conveys the feeling of calm and acceptance. Magic happens when you least expect it. I want anyone who sees it to absorb the feeling that filled the air that afternoon when the sun turned the fern leaves to gold.