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.

Smoke on the Water

August and september always seem to be a difficult time for the photographer in me. Breeding season is over, as is the roe deer rut, and it is still way too early for feeding stations and fungi. Which means I have to think hard what to photograph, or just go out without a true photographic plan in mind.

It is also the time to work away a backlog in image processing and start making preparations for next season. Some very interesting plans in mind that are a true photographic challenge. I hope to be able to show the results next spring!

Last Friday, sunrise was predicted to be nice with good chances for fog. So the logical thought was to go to a large body of water with possibly some birds around. Now is the time that waders and stilts start to migrate and even in this part of the country some of them can be found along the shores of inland lakes. I arrived early at the scene and got down on my belly along the goose-crap-covered shore. Within minutes, a Common Sandpiper arrived and slowly fouraged into my direction. They never stand still and with the sun not yet above the horizon, I struggled to get a sharp image. After a while, I tried to get pan blurs with the head relatively sharp. Unfortunately, all of my attempts failed miserably. In the end, I got one sharp portrait and the image shown above, which I like best. Although the head is sharp, the rest of the bird shows the movement that goes with their typical, nervous feeding behavior. When the sun finally peeked through and the fog slowly disappeared, the Sandpiper had gone. Four Common Snipes foraged some distance away, but as soon as I tried to crawl a bit closer, some 400 lapwing policemen got nervous. As I did not want to alarm the birds, I backed off and went home. Lets try again next weekend.

Common Sandpiper in Fog; Canon 1D Mark III w. 500/4 IS and 1.4x; 1/40s at F5.6 and ISO1000; tripod and camo cloth.

Over.And.Out.

In my post of July 29, I mentioned that I planned to visit the kingfisher site in hopes of a third brood. Well, I did so last week and to my relief, I found two very busy parents and some noisy chicks in a (new) pipe in the breeding wall. I did not get any useful images though. So I went back last weekend, this time with the wide-angle lens and a remote control. I placed the setup in the stream near their favourite perch (a mere 20 centimeters away) and waited several hours under my camo cloth. During 4 hours, both the male and female paid the odd 10 visits to the site. 20 chances for a good shot, you might think.

However:

1. The female smelled the scent of clear and present danger and flew directly into the nesting pipe every time: -10
2. The male came from the wrong direction (even from right behind me) several times: -4
3. The male was chased away by unleashed dogs two times (tripod stumbled, but fortunately did not fall): -2
4. The male decided twice that the camera would make for a nice perch too (no pics, but it did happen): -2

Simple math then yields two chances for a photograph. The first time, the dappled sunlight only hit the background, not the kingfisher. Not enough light on the background for a silhouet, so no keeper. The second time, a cloud obscured the direct sunlight and it finally all came together. A happy photographer left the scene. Although I have not seen any of the chicks from the three broods, I am confident a healthy kingfisher population will try to beat this years winter. Hope to see at least two survivors next year, same time, same place, same photographer!

Common Kingfisher male in habitat; Canon 1D Mark III w. 17-40/4 L at 26mm; 1/8s at F11 and ISO500; tripod and wireless remote.

In your face!

Finally a chance to give the indexfinger some relief.

A friend took me to several small patches of wet grassland close to home, carefully managed by a nature conservancy organisation. These meadows don't look like much to the untrained eye, but all kinds of insects surely know how to appreciate this habitat. It was just teeming with miniscule wildlife, I could easily spend a whole day on just a square meter. Especially the sheer number of grasshoppers was amazing. Every step I took caused at least a dozen of them to jump around.


So I focused on the various species of grasshopper that inhabited the grassland. My plan was to shoot them clinging to a stem of grass, but from above and at large magnification. That way, I would get a close portrait with both the foreground and background nicely out of focus. A good plan theoretically, but the execution was a different thing. These critters are called 'hoppers' for a reason...a very good reason. They hardly ever sit still (when they do, they like to play hide-and-seek behind the stem of grass), and particularly dislike a tripod being placed right over them. Shooting handheld was not an option, because of the large magnification (and thus very limited DOF) I wanted to achieve. After a few hours of fun and frustration (so that's why they call a group of grasshoppers a plague), I had bagged a few photographs I am happy with.

Large Marsh Grasshopper; Canon 1D Mark III w. 150/2.8 macro, extension tube and 1.4x; 1/80s at F4 and ISO400; tripod.