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.
I couldn’t believe my luck. In the past 8 years, we’ve twice had trumpeter swans on our pond and then only for a day. So when Terrie called at work with the news of a swan, I came home right away hoping to catch it in the evening light thinking it might be my only opportunity. It’s very difficult to approach our pond without being seen so I loaded my gear on a sled and dragged it behind me in the snow as I belly crawled to the bridge to hide behind the dam. I shot from there until the light ran out, and then retraced my crawl back home so I wouldn’t scare him away. Next morning I was relieved to see he was still there. I crawled back out into place before sunrise and shot until I had to leave for work. It was Friday and I hoped if he spent the weekend I could shoot the entire time. Better than that - he stayed the next two weeks.
One of the wonderful things about water is the reflection. Not only does it mirror the subject matter, it also introduces colours from the background that would otherwise get cropped out. In this image, it reflects the unbelievable vibrant greens of the spring grasses of the distant pond bank that contrast with the ducklings swimming in the near shadows.
