A Mere Inch

A mere inch. That's how little the heavy rains of last week have made the water level of the inland lake rise. The direct consequence of the higher water is the disappearance of the mudflats and grassy islands in the lake. Which in turn are (better: used to be) the foraging grounds for waders and Lapwings.

Weather was great for photography with a very dense fog. Clouds obscured the sun, so the fog remained for the full morning. Nice weather, but no birds. Who said a photographers life is easy?


I spent about an hour lying at the lakeshore, with only a few mallards and greylag geese somewhere in the white distance. At least, I guess they were mallards and geese, judging from the sounds I heard, coming from a distant invisibility.

Suddenly, out of this great white nothing, came a Great Blue Heron flying in. It landed right in front of me (still at 46 meters, according to the EXIF). I rattled off at a slow shutterspeed (as I had planned to do pan blurs this morning) and got a few nice ones. The Heron peered into the fog, roughly to where the clicking sounds came from, but clearly could not see me through the dense fog. Good to know I am not the only one with bad vision on foggy and gloomy early mornings. After a few seconds, the Heron decided not to take any chances and disappeared as quickly as it had landed. Again I had an eerily empty lake in front of me, but with the shots bagged, I packed up and went for some macro photography a few miles further.

Great Blue Heron; Canon 1D mark III w. 500/4 IS and 1.4x; 1/50s at F5,6 and ISO200; tripod and camo cloth.

Unexpected Appearance

Another morning at the lakeshore. This time, I chose a different spot to position myself, closer to where I had seen the majority of the Lapwings and waders during the previous sessions. But (there is always a but, isn't it?): the pouring rains earlier in the week had flooded many of the foraging grounds again. So the Lapwings chose yet a different spot to rest and forage. Of course, my horse. On the small 'island' in front of me, only a juvenile Little Ringed Plover showed up. I got a few backlit shots with the bird small in the frame. Close, but no cigar.


During the few hours I spent at the lakeshore, several waders flew into my direction, extended their landing gears right where I wanted them to be, but then decided to try their luck elsewhere. Among these were a pair of Common Snipes that landed some 10 meters to my left, but ran off into the high grass immediately. An hour later, I had completely forgotten about them and was checking out the large group of Lapwings through my viewfinder, when I saw something move from the corner of my eye. There were the Snipes, they had waited in the high grass for the full hour! I did not dare to move even the slightest bit and let the boldest of the two shuffle forward a meter. I waited until it had started foraging and then slowly took the first shots. It did not care at all and even started to groom. A few minutes later, the shyest of the duo got nervous for no reason and took off, of course followed by the bolder individual. All in all a very nice ending to an otherwise mediocre session.

Common Snipe; Canon 1D Mark III w. 500/4 IS and 2x; 1/40s at F9 and ISO200; tripod and camo cloth.

Watch Me Burn

I’ll tell you now you can’t win this
You’re way too slow
I’ll tell you now I’m gonna take this
Did you come here to watch me, watch me burn?

Three Days Grace - Burn (2003)

I went to the same place I photographed the Sandpiper last week, hoping for better chances and light, or other species of waders. No fog this time, but I did see several Common and Green Sandpipers, Greenshanks, Snipes and lots of Lapwings.

However, as many parts of the lake had gone dry, the waders had lots of restaurant space to choose from. In the end, I only got a mediocre shot of a Greenshank. 

Fortunately, like last time, dozens of juvenile White (and a lone Yellow) Wagtails were more than willing to pose for me. They were around all the time and captured small flies from mid-air or just from the wet grass. They even obligingly did their thing against the reflection of the rising sun. I got many interesting (semi-)silhouettes of the Wagtails that I'm happy with. I'll be back next weekend, this time hopefully in a better position for some images of the graceful wader family species.

White Wagtail; Canon 1D Mark III w. 500/4 IS and 1.4x; 1/1000s at F7.1 and ISO800; tripod and camo cloth.