FRESH PAINT

Lucky us.

In June, on three separate occasions, we were fortunate to witness three painted turtles laying eggs along the bank of the pond. We marked the areas hoping to see them hatch. But even with three nests, it was a long shot that we’d spot the loonie-sized offspring emerge and work their way through the grass to the water.

But the odds were with us. Not only did Terrie notice the tiny ground breaking disturbances of the first and second nests hatching – both birthings happened on weekends when I was home with the camera to capture the moments.

Two out of three – not bad.

INTO THE DARK

Something different and rare.

I wanted to try for a different view of the Sandhill cranes as they flew into the big pond for their evening rest. At the refuge the photographers usually goes to the “flight deck” area on the east edge of the water but I thought I’d setup at a nearby trail where the birds would pass over an opening in the tree canopy.

Well, it didn’t pan out and I was about to leave when I spotted what I assumed was a coyote coming down the trail. Of course when I focused in I realized I was looking at a mountain lion.

Incredible luck. There is always talk about the lions at the refuge but just a few sightings. And here I was, all alone, safe inside my car with the camera all set up, as a big cat slowly headed straight for me.

Turns out I was at one of the few spot in the park where a lion could get access to hunt without having to get wet crossing the surrounding canals. And it was only a hundred yards from the Rio Grande which the cats use as a highway to cover their 100 square mile territory and visit their females.

It was one of those wonderful moments when what you see in the viewfinder gets the adrenaline pumping. To add to that I was nervous – not for my safety, but hoping I had focus and enough exposure for the night light, especially given it was my first few days with a new camera.

Algonquin Family

POUNCIN’ AROUND

Sometimes I learn the hard way.

I was positioned on a hillside, shooting elk in this meadow, when I decided to have a quick look around the bend of the hill. Well, one bend led to another until I found myself about 50 meters away from where I’d left my camera set up – when I spotted what I thought might be a wolf moving through the tall grass.

I raced back, berating myself along the way, and sure enough by the time I returned, what would have been a full frame shot had become much wider and getting more so by the second. It turned out to be a coyote. He was pouncing in and out of view, as he worked his way quickly across the clearing. A few camera clicks later he disappeared into the tree line.

I learned a valuable but what should have been an obvious lesson that morning;

Always take the camera.

Exploded View

It’s the perfect spot.

There’s an area in the corner of the pond where the ducks always hang out. It’s shallow and there are a couple logs they can perch on to preen. It’s also a great place to photograph them because the setting sun slips through the trees and lights them up but doesn’t reach the bank behind them. So their colors and any water splashes are lit up in full glory, and even further enhanced by the stark, dramatic, contrast of the dark shadows of the shoreline.

When the conditions are right and I see them begin to preen, I always turn my attention to that area for the perfect opportunity.

THE GREAT BLUE YONDER

Scootching made this shot possible.

It’s often the case when I wake in the morning that I’ll look out from the bedroom window and see a heron on the pond. And as much as I’d like to go out to shoot I know from multiple past experiences that it’s almost impossible to get out there close enough to get a shot without spooking them.

But occasionally there are two herons, which means there’s a chance that something interesting can happen between them as they jockey around the pond for territorial position. And while they distract each other there’s a chance they might not notice a big guy with a huge lens sneaking towards them.

There wasn’t time to change so I just donned my camo hat and went out in my pajamas. I sat on my butt behind the camera and scootched forward along the wet grass whenever they weren’t looking. It took me a half an hour to work my way down the exposed hillside to the edge of the pond - a distance of a mere 60 feet.

I finally reached the cover of the tall grass along the pond edge and from that vantage caught this sequence of one heron crossing to get away from the other.

Then again, perhaps it was the pajamas.

Chickadee

Hitch

The Green Heron

RUSH HOUR

FULL OF BULL

In the parks out west, the buffalo pretty much appear to have the run of the land, including the roads. Wherever they want to wander and for however long they want to stay is up to them. There is a technique for herding them with your vehicle that locals use so they can go about their business, but for tourists, like us, we just let them be and used it as an up close and personal photo opportunity.

RISE & SHINE

Another one of those shots that was supposed to be a shot of something else.

A new family of geese had spent the night on the pond and I was out before sunup to try for pictures. I couldn’t get very close because they were already on the water so I just settled into the opposite side of the pond under the cover of some camo material and shot them as they fed back and forth along the far bank.

It was a busy morning; first a couple mallards, then the kingfisher, some mergansers, and finally my favorite - wood ducks. Their colouring is amazing. It is so vibrant, so crisp and detailed, that it appears to be painted on. They’re skittish but they didn’t see me undercover so I was able to get several good shots of them cruising the pond. I shifted my focus to one who had wandered off by himself to feed along the edge. Suddenly the sunlight broke through the trees and he lit up like neon. I started blasting away. Then something spooked him and I could tell he was about to take off. No matter how much I anticipate it’s always tricky to keep up with birds launching off the water. I was lucky this time to get three shots off while keeping him in frame.

The goose family only stayed the day and then moved on up stream but seeing as how it was the first goslings we’d ever had, I took it as a sign of good things to come.

Launch Sequence

Lording Over

Slinky Minky

FEET FIRST

I was surprised when I arrived at the site. I had been seeing full frame photos of puffins from this area, yet because of the lay of the land, there was no way that I could hope to get that close – even using my powerful, 600mm, super-telephoto lens.

Elliston, located on the Bonavista Peninsula of Newfoundland, is a popular destination for tourists seeking puffins because of its easy access to view the birds. The trail to the colony leads right to the edge of a steep cliff. Just beyond there is a series of sea stacks – pinnacles of sheer rock, plateaued on top and peppered with the burrows of thousands of puffins. But the chasm that separates visitors and the nearest nest is at least seventy-five feet. How did people get close-ups?

I asked around but none of the other photographers that were there could figure it out either.

I assumed there must be another location and decided to shoot where I was, then scout around for the better site. I settled onto the edge and began looking for interesting compositions of the birds congregating around their burrows. I noticed an area where they were launching and landing and tried to catch them at various stages of action. There was continuous wind from the sea that channeled up along the face of the cliffs. The puffins had an easy time taking off but the shifting updrafts made their landings a little tricky.

The situation was actually to my benefit; the stiff air currents pushed up at the birds as they tried to touch down slowing the action and allowing me to capture long sequences of the birds coming in for landing. It was one such sequence that became FEET FIRST.

I felt I’d exhausted the possibilities from my location, said goodbye to my fellow photogs, and hiked back to my vehicle. As I was starting to drive off I spotted a couple locals and inquired about getting better access. They said if people stayed back from the edge and gave the birds some space, eventually they would come over to the viewing ledge. Before they could finish speaking I parked, geared up, and was trotting back to spread the gospel.

PORTRAIT OF A PUFFIN

DUCKTAILS

Mid-summer, I started putting together a floating rig for a “low rider water cam.” I wanted to get as low to the water as I possibly could for a “duck’s eye view”.

I started with a one-person inflatable boat and cut the floor chamber out of it so I could surround myself with it like an inner tube. I strapped a wood platform across the bow, bolted the tripod head to it, and covered the whole setup with camouflage netting. I mounted the camera, lifted the rig over my head, and carefully eased myself into the pond. Our pond is artesian fed and extremely cold so I wore a wet suit. My arms rested on the side of the raft and I could walk on the bottom or kick myself around the pond. I was low and mobile.

I started going out with the camera in July on some of the hottest days of the summer but didn’t have much luck with wildlife showing up. I’d stay out for 2-3 hours, waiting, and took a book to while away the time. Then I hit the jackpot. One sunny morning, I had three hours with a group of baby ducks, a heron hunting along the shore, a mother wood duck and her young, cedar waxwings, a king bird, a kingfisher, and these four young mallards, bottom dipping for food.

I probably have a hundred shots of ducks tilting to reach the bottom but none so perfectly balanced, lit, and timed, or from such a low angle as DUCKTAILS. It was a lucky morning and the perfect christening of “the low rider water cam.”