What started as a wildlife photography session quickly changed the moment we stepped into the walkthrough. The atmosphere, behaviour and constant movement of the joeys made us realise almost immediately that this was no longer just about still images. Once we switched over to filming stock footage, we stayed there for the rest of the shoot, focusing entirely on capturing natural behaviour, slow moments, tiny movements from inside the pouches, and the immersive feeling of being inside the enclosure itself.

“celebrate the innocence, vulnerability, and undeniable cuteness of young creatures. These expressions capture the magic of early life and the strong protective instincts nature inspires in us all”.
Anon

RAW MOMENTS: Behind our Joey Wildlife Stock Footage

It was one of those crystal-clear spring days where the sunlight feels almost too sharp. The heat sat directly on the backs of our necks as we stepped into the enclosure.

One of the brilliant things about Manor Wildlife Park, which is owned by Anna Ryder Richardson and located near Tenby in Pembrokshire is that several of the animals are in walkthrough areas, meaning there are no fences to shoot through, no awkward mesh ruining focus, no barriers between you and the animal.

Nothing but you …. and them

Then we realised:

most of them were still tiny and hidden inside the pouches.

At first, we struggled to understand why everybody seemed so excited about the joeys. We couldnt really see any!

Older joeys bounced in and out with surprising speed, somehow folding themselves back inside despite looking far too large to fit. The newborns were different. Tiny noses poked out for a second or two before vanishing again.

That changed the entire way we had to shoot and we quickly switched to video because that would capture the intimacy of the little wallaby family units

You could not casually lift the camera and react.

You had to already be focused.

Already waiting.

Already prepared.

Any movement — shoot. Even if it turns into nothing, still shoot.

Without zoom lenses, you would never even realise some of the joeys were there.

Because we had been asked not to crowd the joeys, we stayed well back and relied heavily on long zoom lenses, eventually setting up tripods just to stabilise the shots while waiting for the smallest movements from inside the pouches.

So we waited.

And waited.

Three hours disappeared inside that enclosure.

The frustrating part was trying to respect the animals properly while watching other visitors walk directly in front of cameras, crowd the wallabies, or attempt to hand-feed the little ones. Families came and went quickly. Click. Click. Move on.

But they did not stay long enough to see what we saw.

They did not stay long enough to capture what we captured.

People often ask how Gray manages in situations like that as a blind photographer.

Sometimes my role is simply helping pinpoint where the focus needs to be — especially when all you are working with is the tiniest nose emerging from a pouch in the distance. But once Gray locks onto something, his patience is honestly greater than anyone I know.

That is where the connection happens.

Not between photographer and camera.

Between photographer and animal.

And somehow, yet again, he captured the best footage of the day.

By the time we finally walked over to see the tiger cubs, we almost did not care anymore. The wallabies had unexpectedly become the story.

It felt like one of those rare shoots where everything aligned: the weather, the behaviour, the timing, the patience, the connection.

Driving home, we were buzzing.

Then we opened the memory cards.

Over 100 wallaby photographs – here is what we had after deleting the obvious substandard shots