Photographer Max Ferguson’s book “Whistling for Owls” alternates written and visual stanzas for a loose narrative about love, loss and longing.
The book winds through images of lush nature that seem to flourish at the edge of someone’s backyard. The air is dense, wet and calm. Animals and people exist within a suspended, ambiguous atmosphere. The symbolism triggered by the encounter of photographs and text prompts interpretations that know more than one answer.
“I first met the birdwatcher as she climbed over a stile someway from the house we were staying at. She seemed startled to see me – as if I shouldn’t have been there. Maybe I shouldn’t have.”