I photographed this rufous-backed robin in Puerto Vallarta, Mexico. Although it is not one of the more “exotic” looking species I was hoping to see, as a bird photographer, I was elated to get a new species. We’re just weird that way. The only robins I had photographed before are the extremely common American robin, found throughout North America.
I was shooting up into a thick canopy, so I was happy to get the few clear shots I could. Before long, the robin flew to the upper reaches of the trees and out of sight.
A rufous-backed robin perches on the branch of a green tree, Puerto Vallarta, Mexico
The rufous-backed robin (or rufous-backed thrush) is endemic to the Pacific side of Mexico, so this was definitely the spot to see this bird. It is shyer than the American robin, and slightly smaller. In retrospect, I was very lucky to see this bird, and even more lucky to have captured these photographs.
I captured this photo of an oriental white-eye after a difficult (and sometimes frustrating) morning of bird photography in the Nandi Hills, north of Bangalore, India. I was situated in a clearing in the middle of a small area of jungle. While beautiful and diverse, jungles can be incredibly difficult to shoot in, especially if the target is small birds. Due to the density of the foliage, you have to practically be right in front of the birds in order to get a clear shot – there always seems to be something blocking you. In addition, so many small birds spend a great deal of their time high in the canopy, making them all but invisible. The cacophony of their calls only increases the frustration, knowing they are there but out of sight.
However, as usual in wildlife photography, time and patience pays off. Toward the end of the morning, I was photographing on one edge of the clearing, a wall of green in front of me. This little white-eye flew in and started preening, occasionally hopping from one perch to another. I tracked him as best I could through the leaves, until finally he flew onto this open perch. While he was only there for a few seconds, I was ready and was able to capture a couple of frames.
It is always a good idea when traveling far from home to pick only a few spots to do photography, allowing yourself the adequate time to spend in each. I would rather come back from a trip with a few stellar shots than visit more locations but settle for shots that are just okay.
After fussing between either upgrading my next landscape camera to either a Sony A7RII or a Canon 5DSR (I’ll cover that saga in a future post), I finally pulled the trigger and received my new Canon this weekend. While I’ll primary use this 50 mega pixel monster for large resolution landscape images (wall sized prints, anyone?), I wanted to see if/how it would handle (albeit simple) bird photography. After spending a half hour with it in my front yard, chimping on the rear LCD, I was blown away.
An anna’s hummingbird perches on a thin branch, Belmont, CA
First of all, the auto-focus is fast and accurate – exactly what you’d expect from such an expensive camera. Maximum frame rate is low due to the huge image size, but that is not a concern with its intended use (my typical landscape frame rate is about 1 shot per minute!) The noise level looks better than my 7D Mk II, which is great given the pixel density of the sensor. All images in this post were shot at ISO 500 with no noise reduction – buttery smooth backgrounds.
But where this camera really shines is its gigantic 50 MP sensor – this largest ever released for a 35mm DSLR. Even better than just packing in so many pixels however, is the fact that at 1:1 zoom, the details are tack sharp. Below is a 1:1 crop of the above image.
Headshot portrait of an anna’s hummingbird, Belmont, CA
As you can see, the details are extremely sharp. I’ve seen other sensors that look sharp right out of the camera, but once you zoom in to 1:1, the details are a bit mushy.
Head and shoulders portrait of a house finch, Belmont, CA
If I’m not concerned about printing wall size, the vast amount of resolution I have at my disposal opens up new cropping opportunities. Here I’ve included a few more yard birds I shot during my morning test. I’ve given each a massive crop to see what kinds of portraits I could create with these tiny birds, without having to shoot them with a macro lens (which would be nearly impossible with these fast movers).
A chestnut-backed chickadee finishes eating seed, Belmont, CA
The main areas that will limit this camera as a great bird photography setup is a low frame rate and full frame sensor. But with patience and careful technique, it could produce some amazing results. I’ll see what it can pull off for birds in flight in the future.
A lesser goldfinch perches on a narrow branch, Belmont, CA
Previously I’ve only been able to get head-and-shoulder portraits with much larger birds. But these tests tell me that I’ll likely be bringing this camera along on my next bird shoot. It won’t replace my primary body for now, but if I come across a docile bird that lets me get relatively close, I’m definitely going to pull out my 5DSR and capture some of those insane details this camera is able to resolve.
The great stone-curlew (also known as the great thick-knee) is a large wader, frequently seen along the shores of slow moving bodies of water. These birds are typically nocturnal, but can sometimes be seen during the day, moving slowly and deliberately. They can be quite skittish, often not allowing a close approach. In this case I was photographing from a small boat, so that likely helped me get close without spooking the bird.
A great stone-curlew stands alone on a rock in a shallow lake, Ranganathittu Bird Sanctuary, India
When photographing this bird, I was able to circle the rock on which it was standing. This gave me typical front-lit lighting (with the sun directly behind me), as well as back-lighting (with the sun behind the subject).
A great stone-curlew stands alone on a rock in a shallow lake, Ranganathittu Bird Sanctuary, India
As I was finishing up photographing this bird, I could tell it was quite comfortable with my presence. Soon it stopped pacing and sat down on the rock to rest in the sun.
