The illuminated buildings, streets, gardens and public spaces that characterise Melbourne tie its inhabitants to the immense brown coal mines and power stations of the Latrobe Valley, some 150 kilometres east, via a vast network of electrical infrastructure. By burning brown coal — a substance formed from vegetation that grew more than 25 million years ago, traceable through fossilised remains found during mining — we artificially irradiate our modern city, decimate species, and entwine our contemporary pursuits with deep time. Hinting towards Allan Sekula's speculative mode of photographic enquiry and in league with anthropologist Anna Tsing and eco-feminist philosopher Val Plumwood, Wilson's debut book offers poetic, quietly playful constellations of monochromatic images engaging nonhuman and animal actors to pose questions. In Wilson's ecology of images, native possums, insects, bats and city plants converse with fossilised kangaroo remains and vegetative forms found in brown coal.