STORY
The yellow-tailed black cockatoo rose against the storm-heavy sky, its dark wings edged with gold, each feather a brushstroke against the gathering clouds. I had been tracking this flock for hours, their calls echoing through the wind-bent trees. Then, as if responding to an unseen signal, this one took flight, launching itself into the moody expanse.
There’s a rawness to birds in flight, a freedom unburdened by earthbound concerns. With its striking plumage and piercing gaze, this cockatoo seemed built for these skies, its wings slicing through the air with practiced ease. Against the muted storm light, the subtle iridescence of its feathers gleamed, a contrast of shadow and brilliance.
This image holds that fleeting moment power and grace suspended mid-air, an untamed spirit moving effortlessly through a restless sky.