Last weekend I was up in Oregon visiting my parents. One of the enjoyable aspects of visiting the area in which I grew up is some of the fantastic photographic opportunities there. Growing up at the mouth of the Columbia River Gorge, it was easy to take some of the remarkable scenery for granted. But living elsewhere and visiting this area helps me put fresh eyes on a familiar landscape.
This photograph features the famous Crown Point Vista House standing sentinel atop its cliff, overlooking the Columbia River. It is an over-photographed image, but one I love coming back to in different conditions. Here I only wished for a more dynamic sky, but as is always true in landscape photography, you get what nature gives you.
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.
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.
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.
Recently I had a great morning photo session with one of the resident ring-necked pheasants at Palo Alto Baylands. Usually hiding under bushes or barely visible in the tall grass, he spent a few moments out in the open, giving me some nice opportunities for some close-up portraits.
After a while, his lady friend emerged from the thick scrub brush to partake in pecking at seeds. This was the first time I had seen a female in this area. I remained very still and got down low behind my lens. Soon they began to move in my direction, allowing me to get closer than ever before. The morning was quiet and either they were comfortable with my presence or they didn’t even know I was there.
Introduced to North America in the mid-1800s, the ring-necked pheasant has become a popular game bird throughout the United States. The males will defend their territory against other males, though I did see four of them in one day at various points throughout this area of wetlands.
After covering the short grasses at the edge of the bushes, they quickly disappeared into the thicket and ended our photo session. I was very happy to have gotten myself into a good position at a time when no one else was around and these two pheasants felt comfortable to be out in the open.
Living in an urban environment, I am often viewing wild things against a backdrop of non-wild habitats. This is especially true of birds, as they perch on anything convenient – fences, lamp posts, roof tops. A constant challenge is to showcase these wild birds without exposing the urban landscape in which they’re found.
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.
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.
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.