2026 Australian Geographic Nature Photographer of the year - Update

Today, alongside an extraordinary group of new and returning photographers, storytellers and genuinely wonderful humans, I was honoured to be announced as a finalist in the 2026 Australian Geographic Nature Photographer of the Year.

This marks my third consecutive year as a finalist, and I couldn't be more grateful.

My sincere thanks to the judges Jake Wilton, Mieke Boyton and Ross Gudgeon, my fellow entrants, and the incredible teams at Australian Geographic and the South Australian Museum, whose passion and hard work make this competition and exhibition such a special experience.

One of the things I look forward to most each year is seeing the remarkable images that have made it through. The standard of work is consistently breathtaking, and it's a privilege to have my photograph hanging alongside so many talented people who use photography to celebrate, question and protect the natural world.

So, a three-peat, and one image I wish never had to exist.

My image, titled Neglect, is not my most technically accomplished photograph. It isn't a perfect wildlife portrait or a carefully crafted landscape. It is confronting, uncomfortable and, if I'm honest, heartbreaking.

Camera: Canon EOS R5m2

Lens: RF100mm F2.8 L MACRO IS USM

Flash: Canon EL-5

F-Stop: f13, Exposure Time: 1/250s, ISO: 400

I found the remains of a juvenile Koala (Phascolarctos cinereus), while I was out photographing macro subjects in regional Brisbane. Its head had become trapped in discarded reinforcing steel left around a construction site. Unable to free itself, it slowly choked to death.

I had to squeeze into a very tight space to get the shot with the 100mm and I wanted to frame it as though the koala was still looking back at us, still asking a question.

Why? Because that's my question. Why did something so preventable have to happen?

A simple change in behaviour could have saved its life. Storing rebar horizontally, capping exposed hazards, better housekeeping, providing wildlife-friendly ingress and egress points around work sites, and considering that we share these landscapes with other species. These are not revolutionary ideas. They are small acts of responsibility.

This one Koala represents something much larger.

Across building sites in many industries, there are countless opportunities to reduce unnecessary wildlife deaths through better planning and awareness. I work in industry myself, and I know the overwhelming majority of people care deeply about safety. Extending that mindset to the wildlife that inhabits these places is simply the next step.

The irony is that this happened in Queensland, a state that still holds one of Australia's most significant koala populations.

Photography cannot undo this loss.

Photojournalism has always been about bearing witness. Sometimes the role of a photograph is not to celebrate beauty but to document consequence. To make people stop. To ask difficult questions. To ensure that an animal's death is not entirely without meaning.

Neglect may never be remembered as the most beautiful image, which is ok, not every image is. However, if this photograph starts a conversation, changes a workplace procedure, makes one person think differently about the way materials are stored, or ultimately prevents another needless death in someone's backyard, then it has already achieved more than many technically perfect photographs ever will. I'm honoured that judges saw value in that story, and I'm deeply humbled to once again stand alongside so many extraordinary photographers and conservation storytellers.

I only wish this was a story that never needed to be told.

Three years as a finalist, hard to believe.

Dave.