FAREWELL | A photographer’s goodbye

I applied and interviewed for multiple jobs, trying to find my footing, but nothing seemed to land. I remember feeling a bit lost in it all, like I didn’t quite have a place or a clear purpose yet.

Then one day, Dad handed me a newspaper with an ad for a first-year cadet photographer.

In March 2018, I had jaw surgery that knocked me around for six months. By August, I somehow found myself starting at the Shepparton News, equal parts excited and quietly panicking, wondering if I was completely out of my depth.

Turns out, I wasn’t.

Somewhere along the way, I found my place.

And in that time, I’ve watched countless stories unfold: stories of resilience, community spirit, and the kind of small-town magic that sneaks up on you when you’re not paying attention... and then refuses to leave.

Some of my favourite memories aren’t the big headline moments — they’re the in-between ones. The familiar faces in the community, and the moments that quietly made it all feel like home.

One of the best parts of the job has been knowing the faces behind the stories. Seeing someone around town and remembering exactly when their photo ran, or how proud their family was to see their name in print.

Those moments never get old.

I’ve also loved hearing from parents and people who’ve cut out photos from the paper of themselves, or their kids, and put them up at home. There’s something really special about that. Knowing you’ve captured someone doing what they love, or a little kid seeing themselves as a future sports star, even just for a moment.

I’ve also had a front-row seat to Shepparton growing and changing. New businesses, new buildings, big ideas coming to life, including watching the new Shepparton Art Museum (SAM) rise from the ground, piece by piece.

I’ve photographed everything — fires, floods, politics, sport, and all the small, quiet moments in between that actually make up a life.

Along the way, I had two endometriosis surgeries and got my gall bladder removed... which, honestly, was not on my career bingo card. After some rest, I kept showing up. Camera in hand, always.

During the 2022 floods, I was the only photographer available — out there day after day for weeks, documenting it all as it unfolded with my colleagues back then, who I’m still good friends with today. It was exhausting, overwhelming and incredibly important.

Those are the moments that remind you why this job matters.

Some moments have stayed with me in a different way. I’ve been trusted to photograph people and families for the very last time. Moments that became memories far sooner than anyone expected. And others I’ve photographed from the day they were born, watching them grow up through my lens.

It’s a strange, beautiful responsibility.

I also had the chance to work on a column called Let’s Talk in 2022 with Caitlyn Grant, creating space for young people to talk about things we don’t always talk about. It was honest, raw and one of the projects I’m most proud of.

I’ve loved getting to know and document our Indigenous communities, the Yorta Yorta people. One standout was the Now & Forever concert in 2023 — photographing Briggs, Hilltop Hoods, Jimmy Barnes, Paul Kelly and more.

Seeing Paul Briggs walk out on stage with his family was one of those moments that just stopped you for a second — quiet, powerful and full of meaning.

I’ve also met plenty of centenarians over the years — and almost every single one of them gave me the same advice: travel, and don’t stop learning.

So... I’m taking that seriously.

But before I go — the sport.

The grand finals. The dust, the noise, the nerves, the tears. Those days are something else. It’s where everything feels bigger, louder, more alive, and it’s where I feel most at home behind the lens.

I’ll miss the Gators games — the familiar faces, the chats before tip-off, the way the whole place just buzzes.

I’ll miss the quieter moments too — like those golden evenings at McEwen Reserve photographing the GV Suns, when the light does that thing photographers secretly live for and everything just feels... still.

I think what I’ll miss most, though, is capturing this community as it really is — full of life, emotion, connection — and then walking down the street afterwards, seeing all the familiar faces that make this place feel like home.

And moments like the Gators’ 2023 grand final win. The energy that night was unreal. Being able to film and produce a documentary the following year was a reminder that sport here is never just sport. It’s belonging.

It’s hard to wrap up years like this neatly.

But if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that life isn’t meant to stay still.

So — I’m off.

Heading to Canada. Doing something different. Leaning into the unknown (which feels equal parts exciting and mildly terrifying).

But one thing won’t change — I’ll always be a photographer. I’ll always be drawn to people, stories and the moments in between.

Wherever I go, I’ll keep doing what this town taught me to do best: pay attention.

Because the best stories are always right there — if you’re looking.

I’m still young, but I’ve learned something that sticks: travel when you can, change direction if you need to, follow what pulls at you.

And if I’m honest, this next step feels like something that’s been a long time coming. Ever since I was a little girl, Canada has always been number one on my list — the mountains, the landscapes, the animals, the people. It always felt like somewhere I was meant to see for myself one day.

So, the fact that I’m actually going? That still feels a little surreal.

Little me would be pretty proud.

I’m not exactly sure how long I’ll be gone for — and I don’t really know what comes after Canada either. Maybe it’s home, maybe it’s another country. I’m just following where things lead for a while.

To the Shepparton community — thank you for trusting me with your stories. That’s never something I’ve taken lightly.

And to the newsroom — thank you for the banter, the chaos, the coffees, and the way everyone always showed up when it mattered. It’s also where I’ve met some of my closest friends — the kind you keep for life.

If I’ve learned anything over my time here, it’s to stay curious. To listen, ask questions and to lean into the unknown. I’ve always admired Anthony Bourdain— the way he saw the world with openness and honesty, and in many ways, that mindset has inspired me to take this leap. To go somewhere new, to keep learning, and to trust that there’s something waiting on the other side of it.

Because if this job has taught me anything, it’s that the moments matter, the ones we celebrate, the ones we hold onto, and even the ones we don’t realise are important at the time. And if I’ve been able to give even a small piece of that back, something someone might pin up on their wall and look at years from now — then that means more than I can probably put into words.

Thank you Shepparton, for everything.