I photographed several great kiskadee when I was in Mexico at the beginning of the year. These are large flycatchers, prevalent throughout Latin America. Most of the time I saw them high in the treetops, but after a bit of patience, I was able to photograph several in the lower branches.
Regardless of the pose, the best photos are captured with a catch-light in the bird’s eye. This brings a sense of life to the bird, and creates a more pleasing photo.
Both photos were shot with the great Canon EF 100-400mm lens. It is not the fastest out there (f/5.6), but when used correctly, it can produce fantastic results.
On a trip to Mexico at the beginning of the year, I was lucky to find a large, male common iguana and set about photographing it. My favorite portrait position was when it began to climb the trunk of a smooth tree. It walked vertically up the tree with ease, employing the use of its long toes claws.
I also managed to get some interesting poses from the ground, where it was patrolling its territory. Here you can see the iguana’s large dewlap, a flap of skin hanging from its neck used to regulate body temperature.
As the male had spines of an extraordinary orange color, I wanted to get a ground portrait that showed them off. I used a shallow focus an emphasize the head, while you still see a hint of the orange spines in the background.
Probably the most notable feature however was the large feet of the iguana. It was fascinating to watch it grip smooth surfaces and navigate them so easily.
Using a long lens, I made sure to keep my distance, both so as not to disturb the lizard, and so that I felt safe! The last thing I wanted was to have to treat a nasty lizard bite. As usual, please click the images for larger, more detailed versions.
Roosevelt Elk are the largest of the remaining four subspecies of elk in North America. I photographed these elk in northern California, just south of Prairie Creek Redwoods State Park. They travel in a herd of about 30-40, and can usually be seen grazing or lazing about on either side of highway 101 in the mornings and evenings. I have seen them about 50% of the times I pass through that area, and it is always worth a quick stop to photograph them.
The herd is mostly made up of females and calves, but there are a few young bulls sprinkled here and there. This male kept pretty far away from the dirt road from which I was photographing, but occasionally he emerged from the brush to give me some clear views.
As with any wild animal, photographing them takes special care and etiquette. Especially with large mammals, keeping your distance and being extremely vigilant around them is of utmost importance, both for your safety and theirs. Using a long lens is a necessity in order to stay far enough away so that they don’t get agitated. I’ve seen too many tourists approaching with small point and shoot cameras, trying to get close enough to get a reasonable shot. In these cases, it is much better to just admire them from a distance, and if you must have a photo, go buy a postcard from a local merchant!
In a world of ever encroaching human presence, it is a joy to see a large herd like this living fairly undisturbed. Next time you are planning a road trip, do some research before hand and look for any wildlife viewing areas along your route. You never know when you might be treated to a personal experience with large wild animals.
I photographed this common murre in Oregon on an early spring trip geared toward landscape photography. Although I did bring my wildlife lenses with me, I happened not to have them down on the beach the day I saw this little guy. My longest lens in my bag was a 70-200 on a full frame camera.
The common murre only comes to shore to breed, and this one can be seen in breeding plumage. Once these birds breed, both the male and female molt, rendering them flightless for one to two months. I’m not sure if this one had been through this molting yet, but he seemed quite content just to hang out on his rock.
After seeing this murre standing on a small rock, the first thing I did was creep around to the south to approach him with the sun at my back. This made the bird front lit, which is the typical lighting necessary to create a pleasing bird portrait. Once I had the angle of light correct, I began to creep toward my subject (partially to compensate for my short focal length I had available) in a low crouch. I moved very carefully, only creeping forward a few inches when he was looking away. As usual, I balanced my desire to get as close as possible with the bird’s comfort zone.
After taking several photographs at the distance with which I was comfortable, I backed up slowly the way I had come. It is always better to leave your subject undisturbed than to selfishly stand up after you have your desired shots and risk flushing the bird.