I don’t have a lot of photos of me in Australia. Like most people who enjoy photography, I prefer to be behind the camera. But every once in a while, I was in a situation where a photo seemed like a reasonable response. My favorite photo is the one of me at the end of the riding trip, in oil skins and Snowy River hat. I love it because of what it represented—I had become my dream. (Which is, of course, why it’s on the cover of my book.)
I believe it was because of my sense of relief and delight at Burbong—the horses, the gum trees, the grassy paddocks, the sheep, the feeling that I had returned to what I recognized as Australia— that I allowed myself to end up in front of the camera again. If nothing else, I think this photo of me with Ray and Rhuben suggests that I was certainly having a good time.