THE STORY BEHIND THE IMAGE

My connection to lutruwita-Tasmania extends back much of my life, but in 2023 I began undertaking annual art residencies focused on studying and documenting the island's gentle giants and ancient Gondwanan tree species. Since then, I have returned each year, revisiting these wild landscapes and discovering new ways of seeing the natural world.

During that first residency, I attended a conference in Hobart exploring the role of art in environmental advocacy. It was there that I first encountered the term witness tree—a tree left standing while the forest around it is completely removed.

Through the mycelial networks beneath the forest floor, trees exist in relationship with one another. The thought of a single tree remaining, unable to move, unable to cry out, simply bearing witness to the destruction around it stayed with me.

Not long afterwards, I encountered one myself.

The ground was still smoking.

Witness Tree by Melissa Hammond

I had travelled to lutruwita-Tasmania to see the Valley of the Giants in the Styx Valley, but before reaching them I found myself unexpectedly standing before this tree, confronted by the reality of what I had only recently learned. The silence in that landscape was visceral. It felt empty, as though life itself had been removed.

After documenting my first encounter with a witness tree, I got back in my car to see the giants and just down the road, everything changed. What surprised me most was not just their height, but the extraordinary abundance of life. The forest floor resembled a terrestrial reef, alive with mosses, fungi and countless endemic species. Moss-covered trunks stretched so high above me that I couldn't bend my neck back any further.

The silence I experienced there was entirely different.

It felt full.

The pressure in my ears was immense. I found myself constantly trying to pop them. It felt as though the forest was alive with conversations beyond my perception and understanding. I later learned there was a physical explanation for this—the sounds of countless living organisms reverberating through the forest, blending into what we perceive as silence.

Among those giants was one particular tree that I return to again and again. Standing beside it brought an immediate sense of calm. Resting against its moss-covered trunk, I felt supported, held and deeply connected to the landscape around me.

Over time, this tree became part of my Tasmanian story.

The Towering Giant by Melissa Hammond

Last year, while travelling back to lutruwita-Tasmania for another residency, I had learned that another area of old-growth forest in the Styx Valley was under threat.

The tree I had come to love had been saved more than a decade earlier through the efforts of forest defenders, volunteers and conservation organisations who fought to protect the area. Their work ultimately secured protection for the forest, allowing people like me to experience these remarkable giants today.

When I heard that nearby forest was scheduled for logging, I wanted to learn more and contribute in whatever small way I could. I attended an information day, met forest defenders, listened to their stories and visited the proposed logging coupe to document what I could, including the tree marked to become the next witness tree.

The future is bleak for you. By Melissa Hammond

What I did not expect was to spend the night there.

Someone with the intent of causing harm to the volunteers intentionally jammed the lock on the gate, making it impossible to leave if there was an emergency. We were all trapped. It was a frightening situation, and one that could easily have become dangerous as darkness fell.

Yet what stayed with me was not the fear.

It was the kindness.

Gentle Touch by Melissa Hammond

Lead with love, not fear.

Another piece of wisdom that has remained with me came from Bob Brown: "Don't get depressed, get active." This has been especially helpful when all seems lost.

The environmental challenges we face can often feel overwhelming. Sharing the images of destruction are important in helping us understand what is at risk, but I was reminded that sharing what we love, and why it matters, can be just as powerful.

That is what Gentle Touch became.

For me, the photograph speaks to reciprocity. It is a reminder that forests are not simply places we visit or resources we extract from, but living communities that sustain biodiversity, regulate climate and support life far beyond their boundaries.

I am able to stand beneath this tree today because people before me chose to protect it. Their actions remind me that every one of us can make a difference.

By revealing a gesture hidden within the forest, Gentle Touch seeks to make visible the beauty, wisdom and vulnerability held within these ancient ecosystems, inviting a renewed sense of connection and care.

In recognition of the ongoing work of the Bob Brown Foundation, forest defenders and volunteers who continue to protect Australia's old-growth forests, 20% of profits from all edition sales will be donated to support their efforts.

The remaining funds will support my return to Tasmania to continue documenting the ancient forests and gentle giants, helping to share the stories of places that cannot speak for themselves, but whose future depends on the choices we make.