Every year has its own vibe. Some years arrive gently, predictable in their rhythm. Others move through like a system you feel in your bones long before you can name it. 2025 was the latter. A year of extremes. Of expansion and contraction. Of joy that felt incandescent, and grief that arrived without warning.
Peaks and valleys. Always.
And somewhere in the middle of it all, a reel of moments that now exists outside of time. A highlight film that holds the year the way memory does – not chronologically, not neatly, but truthfully.
This is what 2025 looked like when we pressed play.
The Highlight Reel as a Mirror
We made a highlight reel of the weddings and celebrations we planned and photographed this year.
On the surface, it’s movement. Colour. Music. People at their most alive. But when we watched it back, late at night, tired in that bone-deep way that only a full year can give you, we realised it was doing something else entirely.
It wasn’t just showing us what we did.
It was reminding us why.
Every frame carries weight. Not because it’s perfect, but because it’s honest. A kiss that stops time. A laugh that breaks the room open. A dance floor that forgets the outside world exists.
The reel doesn’t show the emails, the planning calls, the 4am alarms, the flights stitched together by adrenaline and coffee. It doesn’t show the quiet moments when you sit on the edge of a bed after a wedding, shoes kicked off past midnight, wondering how you’re going to do it all again tomorrow.
But it holds the proof. That the work mattered. That the people mattered. That the year, in all its messiness, was lived fully.
A Win That Still Feels Surreal
Early in the year came something we still struggle to describe without pausing. The Nikon win.
Out of close to 50,000 entries.
A moment of recognition that felt much, much less like a trophy and more like a deep exhale. Not because we ever need validation, but because it reflects years of work done quietly, consistently, with care. Work shaped by curiosity, craft, and a refusal to rush what matters.
Then came the exhibition in Tokyo. At the T3 Photo Festival.
Being a part of one of our favourite art festivals, our work viewed by strangers who didn’t know the story behind it but felt something anyway. That’s the alchemy. That’s the reason we keep refining our eye, pushing ourselves, staying uncomfortable.
It was a high point. One we’ll carry for a long time.
Namibia: Space, Silence, Perspective
The scale of it. The silence. The way the land makes your thoughts slow down whether you want them to or not. Freedom doesn’t always arrive as joy. Sometimes it arrives as space. As distance. As a reminder that the world is bigger than your inbox.
Namibia gave us perspective we didn’t know we needed. It stripped things back. Reminded us that creativity doesn’t come from constant output, but from allowing yourself to be moved.
The views were extraordinary. But more than that, it was the feeling of being small in the best possible way.
The Quiet Gift of Our Parents
One of the quieter, deeper gifts of 2025 was time with our parents.
Not rushed. Not incidental. Real time.
This year, we learned more about them than we had in years. Stories that hadn’t been told before. Context. History. The invisible threads that shaped who they are, and in turn, who we are.
There’s something grounding about realising that the people who raised you are still unfolding too. Still layered. Still human.
It shifted us.
Yamba Sunsets and Familiar Skies
Yamba gave us sunsets that felt like punctuation marks.
Moments where the day simply asked nothing of us. Where the light did all the talking. Familiar skies have a way of calming the nervous system in ways no productivity hack ever could.
Those evenings mattered more than they looked like they did at the time.
Magnetic Island & Ninety Years of Life
And then there was Magnetic Island. A pause in the year that felt quietly monumental.
We travelled north to celebrate Dee’s dad turning 90 … ninety years of life, history, humour, and the kind of steady presence that shapes generations. Standing in Townsville, walking through places that held his roots, we weren’t just celebrating a birthday. We were honouring a lifetime.
Stories surfaced. Context deepened. Threads connected. You start to see people not just as parents, but as young versions of themselves once … full of beginnings, risks, and choices that quietly built the lives we now stand inside.
In a year of relentless movement, that moment asked us to stop. To look back. To be grateful. To remember what lasts.
Friendship, in Fleeting Moments
This was a year where catching up with friends felt rare. Precious. Almost ceremonial.
Stolen dinners. Long conversations that picked up mid-sentence. Laughter that felt like oxygen.
There wasn’t enough of it. There never is. But what we had was real.
And sometimes that’s enough to remind you who you are outside of your work.
The Valley We Didn’t See Coming
And then there was the loss.
In August, Tracey lost a high school friend to cancer.
There’s no neat way to fold that into a year. No lesson to extract cleanly. Loss like that doesn’t arrive with meaning attached. It just arrives. Sudden. Unfair. Heavy.
Grief sat alongside everything else. Not always visible, but present. Sometimes softened by busyness. Sometimes sharpened by stillness.
The work continued. Because sometimes continuing is how you survive. Not because you’re avoiding the pain, but because you’re carrying it while life insists on moving forward.
That loss lives in this year too. It always will.
Exhausted, and Satisfied
By the end of 2025, we were tired in a way that only comes from giving everything you had.
Utterly exhausted. And deeply satisfied. There’s a difference.
This wasn’t burnout. It was the fatigue that follows meaning. The kind that tells you the energy was spent on the right things.
What the Reel Really Holds
The highlight reel doesn’t show everything.
But it holds enough.
It holds proof of trust. Of love. Of people choosing to gather, celebrate, commit, and be present in a world that rarely slows down.
It holds evidence that even in a year with loss, uncertainty, and relentless pace, beauty was still made. Memories were still created. Stories were still honoured.
And that matters.
Carrying 2025 Forward
We don’t believe in perfect years. We believe in lived ones.
2025 asked a lot of us. It gave a lot too. And as we step forward, we carry it all – the wins, the grief, the quiet moments, the loud ones, the people, the places, the work that left us tired but proud.
This reel is a thank you. To our couples. To our families. To our friends. To the year that shaped us.
Here’s the highlight reel. Not as a summary. But as a remembering.
With full hearts, Tracey & Dee | 37 Frames
