This week’s photo involved nothing more than setting up my camera and walking out my front door. The cherry tree in my front yard is a welcome perch for birds flying in to survey the feeding station. However, they usually only stay still for a brief few seconds before moving to the bird feeders. Here, patience and a quick trigger finger save the day.
When I’m photographing birds in the front yard with my long lens, I always use an extension tube to decrease the minimum focus distance of the lens. Otherwise, even standing all the way across the yard, I’m too close and can’t get a focus lock on anything in the yard. This closer distance allows small birds to fill the frame, but makes photographing large birds impossible, unless I’m just going for a head shot or head and shoulders portrait (and how many mourning dove portraits do you really need?)
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.
Usually if I’m out photographing birds and I know I’ll be hiking several miles, I take along my smaller 100-400mm zoom lens instead of the gigantic 800mm. The 800 alone weighs 9 pounds, which feels like 50 after a couple of miles. I broke my rule on the day I captured this nuthatch, because I didn’t want to compromise on this day – I was hiking through Arastradero Preserve in Palo Alto, which is a great place to see a wide variety of birds. I’d been there before with my “hiking” lens, but the whole time I kept thinking in my head, “If only I had my big lens!” This time I was giving myself no excuses.
As I set off into the hills, the weight of the lens, camera, and gimbal head weighed heavily on my shoulders. “It will be worth it,” I kept telling myself. I was hoping to see a coyote, as I had on other occasions. Armed with my big lens, I was excited to see what I could capture. No coyotes that day – in fact, even the bird activity seemed rather low. I stopped for a few shots of acorn woodpeckers, flying from tree to tree and squawking at each other.
As I was watching the woodpeckers, a couple of white-breasted nuthatches landed on the tree closest to me and started foraging up and down the tree trunk looking for insects. Unfortunately, they were very fast, practically running up and down the trunk, and disappearing around the back side just as I’d get one in focus. Were they playing games with me? I watched one snatch a spider from within the tree bark, but he was too high in the branches to make a good photo. Finally, my patience paid off. One the nuthatches came around to my side of the tree, perched upside down, and proceeded to call out. A few clicks later and I knew I had it.
So were the tired legs, sweat, and shoulder pain worth the photos that day? I would say yes, even though I got very few keepers from the day. The legs recovered, the sweat dried, and the shoulder pain faded, but my photos will be there forever.
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.
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.
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.