Here Too

You're not the only one standing in the heat of it.
 
Here Too is for the person standing somewhere unfamiliar, wondering whether there's room for them.
I made this near Broken Hill in the middle of summer. It was piping hot, and the ground was dry and sandy in every direction. I pulled into a car park to walk around, and in the shade of the only tree was a kangaroo, on his own, which is unusual. Kangaroos are usually in a mob. He was close enough that we could read each other, and neither of us moved. I was too close to fit the tree into the frame, so I made a tight portrait instead. Later I washed the landscape back to white. In colour, his coat and the dry ground run together. In black and white, he stands apart.
What I felt there surprised me. I was travelling alone through a desert summer, which can be a little intimidating when there isn't much room for things to go wrong. The heat made me slow and tired. He looked slow and tired in exactly the same way. We were two living things working out how to get through the afternoon, and for a moment I felt seen. Not because he understood anything about me. Because he looked like he felt what I felt. And here was an animal built for this place, resting in it and at home. Sharing that heat with him made me feel like I was in the right place.
 
Here Too is for the rooms and seasons where you're not sure you belong. It doesn't ask anything of you. It offers a quiet presence to stand beside, the way I stood beside him: not talking, not performing, just sharing the shade. Let it become something steady to build on. You're allowed to be here, too.