Humans are meant to leave only footprints in the remote wilderness of south-west Tasmania but they are not alone.

The wildlife expert leading our boat-based expedition around pristine Bathurst Harbour stops abruptly when he spots three huge raptor claws carved into the buttery sand along spectacular Stephens Bay.

There was a full moon when John Whelan joined his friend for a little backcountry night skiing in the snow-capped Canadian Rocky Mountains.

“It would be rare for the coyote pack to take down a couple of adult men,” recalls Whelan, “but you don’t tempt fate out there.”

Ask David Greatorex about benefaction at the Art Gallery of New South Wales and there’s a memory that burns too bright to ignore.

THE purplish hues of Uluru blackened into shadow and the majestic mound was swallowed by night.

Not far away, we dined on white tablecloths, a bush tucker buffet under a coldly crisp and cloudless central desert sky….