These images were not made in the wild, but in a zoo — and that made the experience far more emotional than expected.

To stand in front of such beauty, such power, and such presence, yet to see it confined within walls, was difficult. Behind the frame, there was admiration, but also sadness. Tears filled the eyes, caught between the privilege of seeing them up close and the pain of knowing this was not where they truly belonged.

Maybe that is also why these images carry such weight. They are not only about the animal itself, but about everything held within that moment — awe, frustration, tenderness, and a deep respect for what they are. A look, a posture, a stillness, and all at once comes the reminder that some beauty should be met on its own ground, not behind barriers.

This chapter holds that conflict — the wonder of seeing them, and the longing to one day photograph them where they are fully free. Not confined. Not contained. But in the landscapes that shaped them, in the life that truly belongs to them.

This is my way of honouring them, while holding onto the hope of one day seeing them where they truly belong — in the wild.