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?)
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.
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.
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.