Walking with Moana: Exploring Belonging with a Camera and a Cat

It is dark and the cicadas call incessantly, an invisible orchestra. Moana sits, looking. She walks forward tentatively, pushes her nose deep into a plant, smelling something I cannot smell. She walks on. Suddenly she leaps after a moth, or rushes after a cockroach. The burst of speed over, she sits. I wait. Place presses close. I lift the camera to my eye, and there she is, in the light from my head-torch, a small sinuous grey body walking carefully along a green verge, tail flicking. I wonder what I will make with the footage that might convey the experience of these walks, our close attachment as we experience the night together.