A tree swallow perches on a narrow branch in the sun

When I first got into photographing birds, I would often walk along the bay trails and wonder what these incredibly fast birds zooming around at full speed close to the ground were. They never seemed to slow down, and never seemed to perch. They always had somewhere important to be.

A violet-green swallow perches on barbed wire

I soon learned that these were swallows, and eventually got better views (and photographs) when I did find the odd one perched for a brief few moments. I also learned that there are six swallow species that can be seen through the Bay Area: barn, cliff, tree, violet-green, northern rough-winged, and purple martins. So far I have satisfactory photos of all but the last two.

A cliff swallow hangs from a nest and feeds a hungry chick

The problem with photographing swallows is that they never seem to slow down. They fly far to quickly to photograph in flight (at least it is beyond my skill level) and they even feed in flight. I rarely saw them perch, and when they did so, it was for very short periods of time.

A barn swallow perches on barbed wire

Over time, I was able to find most of my target species while they were resting. Finding an active colony of cliff swallows helped because the parents returned on a regular basis to feed their babies. I’m sure I’ll get opportunities with my last two local swallow species soon, and may even catch sight of a bank swallow migrating through the area.

A snowy egret grows long bushy feathers and has a bright red skin around the base of the beak in breeding season

Looking back through my archives, I came across these photos of a snowy egret in full breeding plumage. Because there are so many of these birds around my home, I often overlook them (everything ends up looking like a crow after awhile). But these photos stood out as they were taken at the height of breeding season, and this bird in particular had magnificent breeding colors.

A snowy egret grows long bushy feathers and has a bright red skin around the base of the beak in breeding season

As snowy egrets enter breeding season, their feathers become long and shaggy. When the they display, they can create a great fan of feathers with which to show off. In addition, a hormone in the body changes the pigment of their skin around the eye to a bright red.

Seeing these photos reminded me that birds are a living and breathing part of the natural world around us. Like much of nature, they change colors and shapes as the seasons change, and are constantly adapting to their environment.

An american goldfinch clings to the narrow branch of a cherry tree. Canon 800mm f/5.6L IS lens with the EOS-7D. ISO 400. Evaluative metering -2/3 EV: 1/2000 sec. at f/8.

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?)

A burrowing owl stands on rocky ground, looking at the camera. Canon 800mm f/5.6L IS lens with the EOS-7D. ISO 400. Evaluative metering +1/3: 1/160 sec. at f/8.

This week’s photo features a popular favorite – the burrowing owl. This species exists throughout the Bay Area (if you know where to look), but every year their habitat is either destroyed or urbanized. Instead of living in a natural grassland habitat, they are now more often found on golf courses or other large landscaped areas (such as corporate campuses). Fortunately burrowing owl advocates tend to be passionate and active, which may yet give this species a fighting chance.

The burrowing owl is one of the more photographed species of owl in the Bay Area, mostly due to the fact that they are non-nocturnal, and burrow away from trees in more open areas. That is not to say they are easy to find, however. I’ve located an owl in its burrow with my long lens before, then looked up and was unable to locate it with my naked eye. Their camouflage is so good sometimes, that people almost step on them before they see them.

A burrowing owl portrait is captured against a white sky background. Canon 800mm f/5.6L IS lens with the EOS-7D. ISO 400. Evaluative metering +1/3: 1/320 sec. at f/8, fill flash.

I found this owl in the Alviso area of San Jose. There were high overcast skies, which can be very good for bird photography. The shadows are softened so you can shoot all day. In the lower image I used a fill flash to introduce a catch-light to the bird’s eye. Neither images are cropped – a testament to the power of the 800mm lens.

An anna's hummingbird perches on the edge of its nest as it prepares to feed its chicks. Canon 800mm f/5.6L IS lens with the EOS-7D. ISO 800. Evaluative metering -2/3: 1/640 sec. at f/10.

Recently I was alerted to the location of an anna’s hummingbird nest near my house. After much searching, I found a nest the size of an espresso clinging to a narrow tree branch. No hummingbirds were visible, but I knew this nest contained several recently hatched chicks. I could hear them making faint sounds as they waited for their parent to show up with food. Finally, an adult approached and perched on the edge of the tiny nest.

An anna's hummingbird feeds hungry chicks while perching on the edge of its tiny nest. Canon 800mm f/5.6L IS lens with the EOS-7D. ISO 800. Evaluative metering -2/3: 1/800 sec. at f/10.

The hummingbird proceeded to feed each chick one by one. Once it was finished feeding them, it settled down for a short rest on to of the nest, incubating the chicks.

An anna's hummingbird sits on top of its nest, incubating young chicks. Canon 800mm f/5.6L IS lens with the EOS-7D. ISO 800. Evaluative metering -2/3: 1/800 sec. at f/10.

I took these photos from 20 feet away, which is the minimum focusing distance of my lens. It is important to never approach any kind of nest too closely. Doing so will disturb the nest and stress the birds, potentially causing the death of the chicks.

In fact, after taking these photos, I saw a couple approach the nest, and start trying to pull away some of the pine needles you see in the above photos, so that they could get a better view. This is perhaps the most destructive thing they could do, short of picking up the nest and dumping the chicks on the ground. After asking them to back away from the nest, I explained that in pulling away cover, they were exposing the nest to predators, and leaving the nestlings vulnerable. That exact scenario had played out with a similar nest in the area only weeks before. Someone had broken away protective branches around the nest, and all the chicks were killed.

Hopefully these little ones made it.

A juvenile red-tailed hawk perches on the top of a metal lamp post. Canon 800mm f/5.6L IS lens with the EOS-7D. ISO 400. Evaluative metering -1/3 EV: 1/1250 sec. at f/8.

I found this juvenile red-tailed hawk perched at the top of a lamp post, surveying the surrounding grasses for potential prey. He seemed fairly bold (as many juveniles tend to be), and allowed me to approach closely. Several poses later, I wasn’t happy with including this man-made element in my “nature” shot. He’d look much better perched on a scraggly branch of a long-dead tree. But, you must work with what you have. So I tried to move in even closer to eliminate this unnatural element, and create a pleasing head shot of this great bird.

An immature red-tailed hawk looks back over its shoulder. Canon 800mm f/5.6L IS lens with the EOS-7D. ISO 400. Evaluative metering -1/3 EV: 1/1250 sec. at f/8.

Although this hawk showed no indication of leaving based on my original approach, I still was very slow and methodical about getting closer. The reasoning behind this are twofold. First, I reduce my chances of the hawk getting spooked and leaving. And second (and more important), I don’t stress out the bird, even if he was to remain in place. When approaching any wild animal, always make sure they are comfortable with your presence. If they show signs of stress (with birds, usually a wing flap or calling out), back away!

Eventually, I got close enough to fill the frame with a head and shoulders portrait of the hawk. Composed against blue sky, I’ve successfully removed all man-made elements. The following image shows another technique to eliminate obvious hand-of-man elements, while also using the head shot approach.

A western bluebird perches in front of a red barn. Canon 800mm f/5.6L IS lens with the EOS-7D. ISO 400. Evaluative metering +1/3 EV: 1/200 sec. at f/6.3.

In this instance, a western bluebird was perching on an ugly fence (covered in bird poop) in front of a red barn. The sun angle required I be facing the barn, thus not being able to avoid including it in my background. Once I had framed the bird however, I used an aperture that reduced the barn to a solid red background. Though not exactly natural, I thought it was quite pleasing.

I moved in close to isolate the bird’s head, and removing the fence. This time the target bird was much smaller than the hawk, and I knew that in order to fill the frame with the bird’s head, I needed to be closer than the minimum focusing distance of my lens. I added an extension tube between the lens and my camera, reducing the minimum focusing distance. Luckily this bird was quite used to people (and was probably expecting to be fed!), allowing me to get close enough.

A western scrub jay perches in early morning light. Canon 800mm f/5.6L IS lens with the EOS-7D. ISO 640. Evaluative metering 0 EV: 1/250 sec. at f/6.3

Recently I was out photographing birds when a western scrub jay landed fairly close to me on a wooden post. Even though this was not a species I was targeting that day, I took advantage of this opportunity, and slowly and quietly swung my lens around to point at the bird. He was so close that his head filled my frame.

I took several tight head shots, and decided I also wanted to capture the entire bird, as I had a great background to work with, and wanted to get as many different types of shots as possible. I used the techniques I described in my thinking digitally post, and took several horizontal slices of the bird, knowing that I could stitch them later.

A western scrub jay perches in early morning light. Canon 800mm f/5.6L IS lens with the EOS-7D. ISO 640. Evaluative metering 0 EV: 1/200 sec. at f/6.3

Of course I could have backed up in order to fit the jay’s entire body in the frame, but I didn’t for several reasons. First, I didn’t want to spook the bird by picking up my tripod and walking backward. In this case, the bird came to me, so I hadn’t had to stalk it. Second, being able to stitch multiple frames yields a much larger file size than a single shot, allowing for bigger prints. Finally, being so close to this bird allowed me to capture fine detail in the feathers. If I backed further away, my lens wouldn’t be able to resolve this amount of detail.

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.

Two great horned owlets sit side by side on a tree branch. Both have yet to fledge and are awaiting food from a parent. Canon 800mm f/5.6L IS lens with the EOS-7D. ISO 640. Evaluative metering 0 EV: 1/400 sec. at f/8

I photographed these two great-horned owlets this past weekend, as they cuddled up together on a branch. They had not fledged, making them easy to find close to their nest. Both parents were still around (as was a third sibling), performing the duties of food gathering for their new brood. Occasionally, the left most owl would become unsettled, and scoot closer to the other, even though his body was already pressed up tight against its sibling. Just as the owl on the right was drifting off to sleep, here comes his brother (or sister), snuggling up close.

After a few minutes, the alert owl decided that it wasn’t time for sleeping, but for a grooming session. With that, he began to lick the other owl’s feathers, rearranging them just so.

While sitting side-by-side, one owlet begins to groom its sibling. Neither owlets have fledged. Canon 800mm f/5.6L IS lens with the EOS-7D. ISO 400. Evaluative metering 0 EV: 1/250 sec. at f/8

This continued for quite a while, and I eventually left to see what else I could find. When I returned to the owls, it looked as though the sleepy owl had left and found a quieter place to roost, leaving the alert owl to sit and stare at the world.

A young great-horned owl that has yet to fledge perches on a tree branch, awaiting food from a parent. Canon 800mm f/5.6L IS lens with the EOS-7D. ISO 500. Evaluative metering +1/3 EV: 1/400 sec. at f/8

I was lucky that these young owls had not yet learned to fly. While they’ll still remain dependent on their parents after fledging, they will be much harder to find among the many trees in the area.

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.