The morning of the Christmas Eve finds me deep in the mallee that surrounds our camping spot, where I try to find interesting compositions with the outback vegetation and the rising sun. Nothing particularly interesting eventuates, but that's fine: you win some, you lose some.

The morning at the Kosciuszko is just beautiful. The rising sun coaxes a few strands of mists out of the ground, which travel far and wide along the grass-covered plain between the mountains and the river. With the sun come the kangaroos: a whole herd of them scatters around, foraging for breakfast. A couple of them stops right next to my vehicle, apparently very interested in what I'm having for a brekkie myself. It's the middle of the summer, but the air feels quite shivery: 10 or 12 degrees, maybe? Must be very frosty here, come June or July.