An american avocet spreads its wings to come in for a landing

Most of the bird images I take tend to be portrait-type images. The reason for this is situational – like it or not, birds do a lot of standing around. While these static shots are great for exploring the finer details of a bird’s plumage, they show little of a bird’s behavior. That’s why whenever possible, I try to capture birds in action. Whether it be flying, foraging or fishing, photographs of birds in action can tell a more complete story about that species, as well as show off details that may otherwise be hidden.

Feet extended, a brown pelican skies across the surface of the water as it lands

One of my favorite action shots is the landing. When a bird comes in for a landing, the body tends to be more upright, which allows the underside of the wings to be angled toward the lens. The bird needs to stop both its downward and forward momentum, causing the wings to fan out at their maximum surface area, as shown in the first photo above.

Because the bird’s body is more upright, the landing is almost an action version of a portrait shot. Anthropomorphizing the body position, the bird is almost saying, “Okay, I’m here and ready for my photo op.”

A brown pelican flaps its wings as it lifts off the surface of the water

Conversely, the take-off shot is not usually as photogenic. The body is more parallel to the ground, and on the downstroke, the wings tend to flatten out and their detail is hidden from the camera. Also, the bird is definitely headed somewhere else, which lacks the same connection a viewer might feel with a bird portrait.

A white pelican spreads its wings as it takes off from the water

Sometimes, however, I get lucky with a take-off photo and capture the wings in the full upstroke position, showing wing detail and freezing a pose that happens very quickly. Although I am happy with outcomes like this, I still prefer the landing poses in photographs.

At the end of the day, there are so many bird behaviors to capture, finding those perfect moments is an endless quest. Multiply that by almost 9,700 bird species, and rest assured that the life of a bird photographer never gets dull.

A california ground squirrel eats a freshly picked thistle leaf. Canon 800mm f/5.6L IS lens with the EOS-7D. ISO 400. Evaluative metering +2/3: 1/800 sec. at f/7.1.

Recently I was out photographing birds, but perhaps a little too early in the day for the typical evening activities. Most were slumbering in the late afternoon heat. However, the California ground squirrels were out in force, foraging and grooming, and generally looking cute.

After watching this one give himself a vigorous dirt bath, he hung around the area for a quick snack. He slowly moved from one thistle patch to another, plucking leaves and daintily gnawing at the edges of each leaf until it was gone. A quick look to each side and he was on to the next plant.

As he did this, I couldn’t help but notice how dextrous his tiny hands were in the way he plucked and handled each leaf, slowly turning it in a circle as he bit at the edges. Although they are so numerous it is easy to take them for granted (or think of them as pests!), they certainly are entertaining to watch.

Two great blue heron siblings huddle together as a strong wind blows across their nest. Canon 800mm f/5.6L IS lens with the EOS-7D. ISO 400. Evaluative metering 0 EV: 1/400 sec. at f/8

Recently I joined two photographer friends in photographing two large great blue heron nests. One nest (above) held two relatively young chicks, while the other housed three siblings who were almost ready to fledge. In the smaller nest, the two chicks waited and waited, but I never witnessed a parent return with food. The other nest, however, was a different story.

Three hungry great blue heron chicks eagerly await the return of a parent with food. Canon 800mm f/5.6L IS lens with the EOS-7D. ISO 500. Evaluative metering +1/3 EV: 1/2500 sec. at f/6.3

About ten minutes after ariving on site, we were rewarded with a parent’s return to feed its chicks. That was when the aggressive battle began.

An adult great blue heron returns to the nest to feed its hungry chicks. Canon 800mm f/5.6L IS lens with the EOS-7D. ISO 500. Evaluative metering +1/3 EV: 1/2000 sec. at f/6.3

As the parent was trying to regurgitate its meal for the hungry chicks, they took turns squawking in its face, demanding food.

Hungry great blue heron chicks surround the parent, begging to be fed. Canon 800mm f/5.6L IS lens with the EOS-7D. ISO 500. Evaluative metering +1/3 EV: 1/2500 sec. at f/6.3

When it took a while for the food to come up, the chicks got more aggressive. One would grab the parent around the beak, and yank its head down into the nest. When this didn’t work, one of the chicks bit around the parent’s neck and yanked at the throat. I was shocked to see such a display, but figured this kind of behavior fostered some of the competition amongst the siblings that would serve them out in the “real world”.

A great blue heron chick aggressively bites at the parents beak and neck, waiting to be fed. Canon 800mm f/5.6L IS lens with the EOS-7D. ISO 500. Evaluative metering +1/3 EV: 1/2000 sec. at f/7.1

After the parent finally dumped the food at the bottom of the nest, it took off, presumably to continue to feed these young insatiable appetites. The youngsters continued to battle each other over the remnants until it was gone. The next time you see one of these seemingly docile creatures standing at the edge of a marsh, remember that they are also predators, trying to eke their own way through the world.

A lazuli bunting perches on a branch in the sun, singing, Arastradero Preserve, Palo Alto, CA. Canon 800mm f/5.6L IS lens with the EOS-7D. ISO 400. Evaluative metering 0 EV: 1/2000 sec. at f/7.1

Last week I spent the evening in Arastradero Preserve in Palo Alto in order to photograph Lazuli Buntings as they returned to the Bay Area for the summer. I hiked for a while through grassy hills spotted with oak trees, past wet marshy areas, and through dark oak woodland, still not seeing any of the buntings. I stopped and played their call on my iPhone. From every direction, dozens of voices answered my call. I then realized that I had been surrounded by buntings all day, I just had not recognized their bird song.

It was as though a veil had been lifted, and I started seeing them everywhere. As the sun started to drop to the west, I saw many buntings move to the treetops, hoping to sing out to the world in those last rays of the day.

A lazuli bunting perches on a branch in the sun, Arastradero Preserve, Palo Alto, CA. Canon 800mm f/5.6L IS lens with the EOS-7D. ISO 400. Evaluative metering 0 EV: 1/2000 sec. at f/7.1

By the end of the day, I had my target species in the bag, plus a few other surprises.

Clutching the remains of a fish he caught, an osprey takes off out of a nest after he delivered dinner to his nesting mate, Mono Lake, CA. Canon 800mm f/5.6L IS lens with the EOS-7D. ISO 1600. Evaluative metering 0 EV: 1/320 sec. at f/5.6

Last week I took a photography trip to the eastern Sierra to capture some spring time action over there. I went with a photographer friend to the south end of Mono Lake in hopes of a great sunset. Unfortunately, the skies were clear and the light was flat. Instead of a lasting sunset glow, it was as if someone just turned out the lights.

Fortunately, there were two pairs of osprey nesting near the shore in large nests built on top of two tufa towers. Just before dusk, the males came in close to the nests with fresh-caught fish. We had a brief show during which they perched on nearby tufa towers, enjoying their dinner, before they returned to the nests to deliver what was left to their respective mates.

An osprey clutches the remains of a fish in its talon as it perches on top of a tufa tower, Mono Lake, CA

During this time, the sun set and the light left. However, just before it got completely dark, I managed to get a shot of one of the males leaving the nest with the rest of the fish dinner. Because the sun was well over the horizon, it back lit the birds. I knew I could not get enough detail on the birds, so I underexposed and went with a full silhouette, emphasizing the graphical shape of the osprey taking off.

The female avocet signals that she's ready to receive the male by standing with her head close to the water with the beak straight out in front. Canon 800mm f/5.6L IS lens with the EOS-7D. ISO 400. Evaluative metering +1: 1/800 sec. at f/8

As they begin, the female signals to the male that she’s ready by standing alert with her head low and forward, close to the water. The male stands next to his mate, or directly behind her.

The male avocet mounts the female from behind. The act of copulation lasts only a few seconds. Canon 800mm f/5.6L IS lens with the EOS-7D. ISO 400. Evaluative metering +1: 1/800 sec. at f/8

In one quick motion, the males jumps up onto the female’s back. Breeding only lasts a few seconds, during which time the male flaps his wings repeatedly. Just as quickly, he jumps down again.

Immediately after copulation, the avocets cross beaks. Holding them in this position, they walk in a tight circle two or three times. Canon 800mm f/5.6L IS lens with the EOS-7D. ISO 400. Evaluative metering +1: 1/640 sec. at f/8

Immediately after copulation, the avocets turn toward each other and cross beaks. Each bill rests against the other’s neck, with the male standing slightly taller than the female. Holding this position, they walk in several tight circles.

Soon after the avocet pair copulates, they promenade side-by-side in a straight line. Canon 800mm f/5.6L IS lens with the EOS-7D. ISO 400. Evaluative metering +1: 1/800 sec. at f/8

Once the circles are completed, they march off together side-by-side. I always find it fascinating to watch these intricate rituals that have developed over thousands of years.

Rising out of the water, an american avocet flaps its wings in the air. Canon 800mm f/5.6L IS lens with the EOS-7D. ISO 400. Evaluative metering +1/3: 1/1600 sec. at f/7.1

A male evening grosbeak perches on a chinese pistache tree and feeds on the many small nuts. Canon 800mm f/5.6L IS lens with the EOS-7D. ISO 800. Evaluative metering 0 EV: 1/800 sec. at f/8

This winter, Santa Clara Valley was lucky enough to see several groups of evening grosbeaks take up residence is a couple of predictable locations. Word quickly spread throughout the birding and bird photographer communities. This species is not very common for this area, so it was a first time bird for many who found them (including me!) The grosbeaks returned to the same general area day after day for several months, providing everyone with great viewing and photo opportunities.

A male evening grosbeak perches on a chinese pistache tree next to a small branch full of food to eat. Canon 800mm f/5.6L IS lens with the EOS-7D. ISO 800. Evaluative metering 0 EV: 1/800 sec. at f/8

These photographs were all taken on the same day on the grounds of a technology firm. (Even the technology parks of Silicon Valley have their share of wildlife!) This particular gross (yes, a group of grosbeaks is called a “gross”) had about 20 females and 3 males. They flew between a number of chinese pistache trees within the same area. Between the flurry of activity and the loud noise of nuts cracking in their beaks, they resembled a swarm of locusts, stripping one tree bare and then moving on to the next.

They would do just about anything to get at the tree’s food. It was amazing to watch them hang almost completely upside-down from a branch in order to reach the nuts. Here a female shows her perching skills.

A female evening grosbeak hangs upside down from a branch of a chinese pistache tree in order to reach some nuts. Canon 800mm f/5.6L IS lens with the EOS-7D. ISO 800. Evaluative metering 0 EV: 1/800 sec. at f/8

Not to be outdone, the males could dangle just as well.

A male evening grosbeak shows off his perching skills. Canon 800mm f/5.6L IS lens with the EOS-7D. ISO 800. Evaluative metering 0 EV: 1/1600 sec. at f/8

Overall, I spent about an hour following these birds from tree to tree. When I finally left, they seemed just as energetic as when I arrived. It was a treat to see this rarity, especially in such numbers.

A male common goldeneye attempts to impress a female by lengthening his neck and extending his head. Canon 800mm f/5.6L IS lens with the EOS-7D. ISO 400. Evaluative metering +2/3: 1/1600 sec. at f/7.1

Spring is almost here, and with it comes the showmanship and fortitude of male birds courting their females. Especially fun to watch are the common goldeneyes, with their neck stretches, head throws and incessant quacking – all in the pursuit of charming that special someone who, if the performance is good enough, might return the affection. I took all the shots seen here recently at Shoreline Lake in Mountain View, where a multitude of common goldeneye can be seen putting on their show. If you live nearby, I definitely recommend a trip there either in the early morning or late afternoon, when the birds are most active.

The common goldeneye courtship display consists of several different maneuvers. The most common move seems to be the neck stretch, which can be seen in the photo above, and the photo immediately following.

A male common goldeneye courts a female by extending his head out in front of him. Canon 800mm f/5.6L IS lens with the EOS-7D. ISO 800. Evaluative metering 0: 1/800 sec. at f/8

If he wants to get a little flashier, he shoots his head straight up with a long neck and lets out a loud quack. Sometimes this first and second move are done in sequence, with the bird first poking his head out in front, and with the neck extended, swiveling it straight up to quack. This usually gets the ladies attention.

Getting a little flashier, he shoots his head straight up with a long neck and lets out a loud quack. Canon 800mm f/5.6L IS lens with the EOS-7D. ISO 800. Evaluative metering 0: 1/1000 sec. at f/8

If that doesn’t quite do it, or the goldeneye is feeling particularly frisky, he pulls out the head tuck move. Here he folds himself backward in half, touches his head to his back and lets out a kind of double-quack. It seems as though the first quack actually comes in normal position, followed the the quick head throw and second quack up into the air. This second sound is louder and more drawn out than the first, kind of like putting the accent on the second syllable of a two-syllable word.

Here he touches the back of his head to his back and lets out a kind of double-quack. Sometimes this move is performed at high speed, as the male goes sailing past the female with his beak up in the air. Canon 800mm f/5.6L IS lens with the EOS-7D. ISO 800. Evaluative metering 0: 1/800 sec. at f/8

Finally, if nothing else is working, the goldeneye busts out the uber-display. After performing the double-quack with his head tucked against his back, he forcefully kicks both feet backward, splashing water high into the air. I only saw this display a few times by only two birds – each of the other displays were more common.

After performing the double-quack with his head tucked against his back, he forcefully kicks both feet backward, splashing water high into the air. Canon 800mm f/5.6L IS lens with the EOS-7D. ISO 800. Evaluative metering 0: 1/1000 sec. at f/8

If all goes well, he finally attracts his mate, who shows the love by mirroring some of his moves. In the following photo, the male is being followed by an interested female.

A male common goldeneye attempts to impress a female by lengthening his neck and extending his head. The female mimics the behavior in reply. Canon 800mm f/5.6L IS lens with the EOS-7D. ISO 400. Evaluative metering 0: 1/2400 sec. at f/5.6

Courtship displays of different avian species can be fascinating to watch, and can get quite elaborate. Personally, I think I’ll stick to chocolate and flowers!

The bill of a brown pelican balloons underwater as it scoops the water for fish. Canon 800mm f/5.6L IS lens with the EOS-7D. ISO 400. Evaluative metering +2/3: 1/640 sec. at f/7.1

This week’s photo features a brown pelican fishing. What impressed me about this photos is just how big the pelican’s throat pouch balloons underwater. Often we just see the head as it comes up full of water (and hopefully fish), but here we can see the bill before any water starts to drain. Brown pelicans often dive for their food, whereas other pelican species prefer to scoop prey just below the surface of the water. Once the bill is above water, it must drain before the pelican can swallow what’s left over. During this time, fish can sometimes be seen jumping out of the throat pouch for freedom. In addition, other birds sometimes take this opportunity to steal fish out of the pelican’s mouth.

After perching in the wrong spot, a red-shouldered hawk is dive-bombed by a white-tailed kite. Canon 100-400mm f/4.5-5.6L IS lens with the EOS-7D. ISO 800. Evaluative metering +1/3: 1/4000 sec. at f/7.1

Occasionally raptors invade each others personal space, be it to encroach on their hunting ground or perch too close to a nest. They can engage in aerial battles, sometimes in dramatic fashion. Such was the scene I witnessed recently when a red-shouldered hawk perched on a tree, and a white-tailed kite didn’t like it very much.

I was alerted to the commotion by the screams of the kite, as it dive-bombed the hawk to drive it away from its perch. I was hand-holding my 100-400mm zoom lens at the moment, so I turned and ran straight toward the group of trees in order to get in better range. I didn’t worry about sneaking, because I figured both birds were probably too preoccupied to care about my approach.

After perching in the wrong spot, a red-shouldered hawk is dive-bombed by a white-tailed kite. Canon 100-400mm f/4.5-5.6L IS lens with the EOS-7D. ISO 800. Evaluative metering +1/3: 1/3200 sec. at f/7.1

The kite swooped down on the hawk about five or six times, each dive causing the hawk to fly straight up and wheel over upside down to avoid the kite (who was quite a bit smaller than the hawk). Finally, the hawk gave up the flew away over the horizon. The kite also disappeared from view, presumably to return to a nearby nest or favorite perch. As soon as the commotion began, all other birds in the area disappeared to let these two birds of prey battle it out alone. After the fight was over, the entire forest was eerily quiet.