With my images I hope in part to soften the walls of separation between the viewer and the wild, to invite you to step into a world devoid of barriers, classification and hierarchy.
20% of the sale of each print will be donated to the David Shepherd Wildlife Foundation. You can read more about the incredible projects they support at davidshepherd.org.
The Details
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Sociable weavers work as a team to create some of the most spectacular structures built by any bird. These nests can weigh well over a ton and survive more than a hundred years, housing up to 500 birds at any one time.
I was six years old when I first saw a wild giraffe. That moment was so astounding, being in the presence of an anomaly of a creature, an impossible being beyond the imagination of my Dr. Seuss story books.
It was around the same time I knew I wanted to be a safari guide; for all I know it could have been the same day. Eighteen years into the profession and though I can truly say I’ve never taken the sight of a giraffe for granted, there was always something in me that wanted to re-experience that first encounter.
In a strange way my wish came true after a year of COVID-19 enforced absence from the wild spaces that many of us hold so dear: with new eyes I saw a giraffe.
A beautiful stretched horse, a triangular tower pitched skyward by strong, sinuous legs. He moved as if he could expand time and I could feel the vibration of his foot fall reach my body. His ears were reminiscent of antennae and his eyes were dark and alluring pools. He was somehow both a giant and the epitome of grace, both curious and all-knowing, and from the heavens he looked down towards me and gently stole my breath.
In a world where there is so much separation between humans and wildlife it seems that the rarer some species become the more likely it is that their bodies will be prized as ornaments or a fabricated idea of medicine. The last of the helmeted hornbills have in the past five years been targeted for their casques that reportedly sell for more than elephant ivory. There has been a spike in the demand for the meat of chimpanzees, bonobos and gorillas. Okapis, the closest living relative of the giraffe and a creature so rare that I’d be surprised if I ever see one have recently been targeted for their hides. Pangolins are openly sold in restaurants in countries inside and outside of Asia. A colleague of a friend recently said “I wonder how long it is before shoebills become an item”. A week later the smuggling of shoebill eggs came into the spotlight.
A while ago, I learned that jaguars in Suriname were being hunted and exported to the East for their teeth and a “glue” that is made by cooking their bodies in a pot for a week.
I have tried to understand how someone could consume this beautiful jaguar as a glue without so much as a second thought about her life, her cubs, or her feelings, how the glue was obtained or who else might have been affected as the contraband travelled along its supply chain... but I just can’t imagine being that disconnected from nature.
This is another personal reminder of how lucky I am to have spent time in the presence of these wonderful creatures and wish this opportunity for so many others. The world might be a better place if more of us could lock eyes with a wild jaguar.
This entire planet is our home. All of the beings that we share this home with are our kin, our fellow earthlings. We are all different expressions of the same stardust and there is not a single one of us that is not meant to be here. What kind of neighbours we choose to be is of course entirely up to us.
© 2026 James Kydd