The photography of Callum Ross appears, at first glance, to capture a moment of calm. As we sit with the image, a tension arises and conveys a sense of anticipation. This is a moment, a transition point that hints at a larger plot. We are compelled to wonder, where would the image take us next? Far away from the cities that fill the sensoria of its citizens with its constant input, to a world where we must contribute to the story. Our thoughts and senses projected onto the scene begin to fill in the blanks. Nature waits there, asking us to write ourselves upon it, to interpret ourselves against it. A mirror to reflect and pause, and the freedom to explore our own thoughts.

Ross captures elements within nature that defy the expectations for landscape photography. A mountain peak penetrates the skyline. A curtain across a window, refuses a view to the outside. A figure, back turned, resists. The fog breaks our view of the hillside, denying further observation. Houses lay on the horizon, concealed almost to the point of absence. Ross gives us scenes that prompt reflection, inviting us to ask questions and remember to question. They hold us at a distance, reminding us that we stand outside the scene, but inviting us to participate in a moment of meditation between nature and the self.