Grebes Galore

An eared grebe in breeding plumage swims through calm water.
An eared grebe in breeding plumage swims through calm water.

Lately I’ve been going through my backlog of unprocessed photos, and I happened upon a collection I took one day at Shoreline Lake in Mountain View. A theme of “grebes” jumped out at me right away, as I had captured on camera four of the five common grebe species in the SF Bay Area, within just a few hundred yards of each other, and all in their breeding plumage.

First up were the beautiful eared grebe (above) and the horned grebe (below). At the peak of their breeding plumage, they are quite easy to differentiate, but in their winter colors, it takes a sharp eye to tell the species apart.

A horned grebe dries itself off after bathing by rising out of the water and shaking vigorously from side to side.
A horned grebe dries itself off after bathing by rising out of the water and shaking vigorously from side to side.

As usual, the eared grebes greatly outnumbered the horned grebes, but both species were mingling and fishing together quite happily.

Closer to shore in a sheltered corner of the lake were several pied-billed grebes. While the eared and horned grebes usually migrate north to breed and raise young, many pied-billed grebes raise their chicks in the Bay Area. When they enter their breeding colors, they gain a thick black band around their bill. In the winter, the bill is a solid bone white color.

A pied-billed grebe in breeding plumage swims through calm water
A pied-billed grebe in breeding plumage swims through calm water

Finally, a clark’s grebe made a brief appearance in the lake, most of which seemed to be under water. Clark’s grebes look similar to the region’s last common grebe, the western grebe. Clark’s grebes also migrate north to mate, however a persistent couple has been trying to raise young over the last few years in another location within Shoreline Park. So far, they have been unsuccessful, with either no chick hatching at all, or the newly hatched young dying within days. A successful nesting would be of great interest to the local birding community, as many have kept watch over this pair’s nest over the last couple of years.

A clark's grebe flaps it wings to reshuffle its feathers as part of its preening routine
A clark’s grebe flaps it wings to reshuffle its feathers as part of its preening routine

I was happy at the variety of grebes that day, and that I caught some of these species at just the right time: after they had molted into breeding colors but before the left for their journey north.

California State Parks Short Term Fix

Waves crash against sandstone headlands, Salt Point State Park, California
Waves crash against sandstone headlands, Salt Point State Park, California

In honor of the recent good news that nearly all California State Parks that were slated to close yesterday will be saved (at least temporarily), I have created a new portfolio gallery of a selection of images I have creates at CA state parks over the last few years. Please enjoy this small slice of what CA state parks have to offer.

Even with the good news, the long term outlook of the park department is not good. Please show your support by visiting a CA state park this summer, or joining their facebook page.

Photo Fix Or Photo Fraud?

I was able to digitally remove the mud, restoring a close approximation of what the chicks' reflections looked like behind the mud.

I took this photo last year of a black-necked stilt and her three young chicks. I had set up in my usual position, with my lens close to the water surface in order to achieve a more intimate eye-level perspective. I was happy with the shoot and this shot in particular, showing all three chicks together with the mother standing protectively over them.

The only thing that bothered me each time to looked at it was the out-of-focus mud bank just peaking up into the frame. It had not been a concern when I was shooting the mother by herself, but once the chicks were introduced to the scene, the mud cut off parts of their reflections and became a distracting element.

The original image included a distracting mud berm obstructing the reflections of the chicks.
The original image included a distracting mud berm obstructing the reflections of the chicks.

This week I took another look at the shot and realized I might be able to pull off digitally removing the mud feature, and finally fulfilling my original vision. The result is below.

I digitally removed the entire mud bank across the bottom of the photo, and restored portions of each chick’s reflections to rebuild what had been hidden behind the mud. While I was at it, I removed a distracting out-of-focus blade of grass from the left hand side of the photo.

I was able to digitally remove the mud, restoring a close approximation of what the chicks' reflections looked like behind the mud.
I was able to digitally remove the mud, restoring a close approximation of what the chicks’ reflections looked like behind the mud.

Was my change acceptable? Ethical perceptions of photography range wildly. Each photographer and photo critic sits somewhere on the spectrum from thinking that photography is merely a form of art so it is up to the artist’s vision, to thinking that any changes to what was captured by the camera is unethical and not acceptable.

In fact, ethics in photography cover topics other than just post-processing manipulation (which probably gets 80% of the attention). Even when a photograph represents accurately what a camera captures, it does not mean that the scene wasn’t artificially created by the photographer.

I think the judgment lies in how the photograph is presented to the audience. Is this presented as a work of art created in the mind of the photographer? Is it a natural history image, meant to accurately depict a natural scene or behavior? Do the digital edits in any way change the fundamental portrayal of that natural scene or behavior?

For example, in the digitally altered image presented in this article, if I had artificially inserted any of the chicks into the scene with the mother in order to create more emotional impact, that would go beyond what I consider an ethical representation of my work. It would be depicting a behavior in a species that never actually took place. However, the edits I have made fall inside what I consider ethical. I have not changed the position or behavior of any of the subjects of the photo. I have only removed an aesthetically distracting element in order to create a more pleasing photo.

What do you think? I’d love to hear your opinions on the matter.

Snowy Plover With Chicks

A snowy plover sits with its freshly hatched brood of three chicks
A snowy plover sits with its freshly hatched brood of three chicks

Recently I had the opportunity to photograph a new snowy plover family nesting along the Pacific side of the San Francisco peninsula. Snowy plovers nest up and down the coast of the US in open sand. Well-known nesting grounds are often closed to the public during sensitive nesting periods, but this family managed to survive on a public, widely-used beach.

A snowy plover chick explores a seemingly massive clump of seaweed.
A snowy plover chick explores a seemingly massive clump of seaweed.

Capturing this vulnerable family on camera was a delicate operation. I had to be very careful not to get too close or spend too much time in contact with the family, or risk stressing out the mother or the chicks and causing irreparable harm to them. I paid close attention to the mother, looking for signs of stress or protective behavior.

Two snowy plover siblings explore their new world together
Two snowy plover siblings explore their new world together

I had been looking for an opportunity to photograph snowy plover chicks for over two years. At that time I found and photographed a nesting plover, but never was able to make it back for the hatchlings. The first thing I realized when I found these ones were how quickly they moved! They would each run at a full out sprint in opposite directions. I loved watching their antics and they poked around towering driftwood or climbed mountainous piles of foot-tall seaweed – quite an effort for their inch-tall frames.

Soon however, they found their way back to mom, and attempted to squeeze themselves underneath her protective tent of feathers.

Two snowy plover chicks struggle to push into the protective care of their parent, while a third sibling is already occupying this feathered embrace.
Two snowy plover chicks struggle to push into the protective care of their parent, while a third sibling is already occupying this feathered embrace.

Here the mother already has one chick nestled in her feathers, while the remaining two siblings try to push their way in.

I limited my time with them to only 10 minutes, and made sure to keep my distance. I wanted to make sure the little ones were spending their precious energy foraging for food instead of running from a giant with a camera!

A snowy plover stands along the beach with two newly hatched chicks
A snowy plover stands along the beach with two newly hatched chicks

It was great to see life thriving, especially outside of protected areas. It seems at least this one family was able to adapt to their environment and raise three chicks on a busy beach.

Copyright 2017 Hank Christensen