We have a big pond right outside the back of the house and every summer we’ve been fortunate to have at least one family of mallards make it their home. In fact, the last two seasons they’ve shown up on exactly the same day – June 10th. I try to be ready to photograph and spend as much time with them as I can during their first few weeks when their cute factor is way off the charts. Sometimes I get in the water to move around and shoot them from eye level. Other times, like for this image, I shoot from the cover of a blind. It’s impossible to tell them apart from their markings but it’s easy to see personality differences right from the start. Some are very timid and barely leave mom’s side. Others are more daring and venture farther away until she silently signals and they race back, virtually running atop the water. And, there appears to be three parade modes. There’s the one where mom leads and they all trail behind single file. There is the cluster mode with mom in the middle of the group. And then there is this arrangement where the chicks take the lead and proudly parade themselves around the pond.
It’s not just the moon; - it’s the supermoon. Okay, technically it was the night after the super-full-moon. It’s not the traditional island-view of Toronto we’re used to seeing. It was shot from 60K north of downtown in Caledon, using 840mm worth of lens. It’s not a cheat. The moon appears huge because: Obviously, the farther away, the smaller the city appears. But as I used a super-telephoto lens, downtown appears large in the frame. And since the moon stays relatively the same size no matter where you are, and because during that “super” cycle it was roughly 13% larger, it appeared huuuge compared to the buildings. It’s not a comp. I didn’t move anything. This was the moon’s actual trajectory. That strange howl you might’ve heard that night, downtown? That was me whooping when I saw it passing perfectly behind the CN Tower. Photoshop was used only to stitch the sequence together. It wasn’t (just) luck. I used an “app” (LightTrac) to determine when and where to position myself. It was lucky: - That I had access to the perfect viewing location. - That the horizon was free of cloud-cover yet cloudy enough overhead to add interest as the moon peeked in and out of view. (The night of the supermoon it was completely clouded at the horizon and only clear well above the skyline.) And, it was lucky that everything came together perfectly.
Danger was all around. They were closing in: pushing me, tugging at my legs, herding me, all sizes and ages, and all with a gleam in their eye. Usually I shoot alone. But that’s impossible at the zoo. I was in the midst of a dozen families of giggling kids shrieking at the site of huge bears playfully charging the windows of the underwater viewing room of the polar bear pool. I concentrated, trying to catch the bears as they darted past the windows, not knowing which of the five portals they might go to, trying to get a clear shot without hands slapping at the glass, and trying not to trip over kids or the armada of strollers. I also didn’t want to hog the view. So I stepped back and shot from behind the little mob, holding my camera overhead. Pretty soon I was giggling along with everyone else as the bears dove, tumbled, and bubbled about to the delight of their audience. Sure I missed some shots but it only takes one. And this one was it.
