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.
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.
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.
As a bird photographer, I strive to know as much about my subjects as possible. This not only helps me to quickly identify the species for stock photo sales purposes, but also to understand behavior in order to be in the right place at the right time. No matter what you’re photographing, the better you know your subject the better and more intimate your photos will be.
One problem area that crops up occasionally in identifying a particular species is a bird’s breeding plumage vs. its winter plumage. Many species molt into a different color and pattern of feathers, some as many as four times a year! Often a bird can look completely different in the winter than they do in the summer (during breeding season). Winter plumage tends to be more drab and monochromatic and it makes certain species very difficult to distinguish from one another. Below are two photos, one of an eared grebe and one of a horned grebe, both in winter colors.
These two grebes can be very difficult to tell apart, especially when one is only given quick views in between dives. Eared grebes tend to have more dark feathers on the front of their neck, whereas horned grebes have no dark feathers there (though that rule isn’t hard and fast). Another distinguishing characteristic is the presence of darker feathers beneath an imaginary line drawn from the end of the bill, underneath the eye, and around the back of the neck. Eared grebes have dark feathers here, while horned grebes don’t. Finally, eared grebes have a bill which turns ever so slightly up at the tip, while the horned grebes’ bill turns slightly down.
As you can see, these differences are slight, and make the two birds difficult to identify with certainty. Now compare the two birds in breeding plumage.
Not only are the birds very easy to tell apart, but they look nothing like their winter counterparts. The basic shapes of the birds are consistent, but the colors and additional feather patterns introduced into the breeding plumage keep the novice bird watcher on his toes. This type of challenge can only be overcome through experience (and frustration!). I can have a beautiful photo of a bird in the best light, but without properly identifying the species, the image isn’t salable. Luckily I have experienced friends who can help me get on the right track when I find myself with a tricky ID.
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.
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.
I took this photo last week of a local burrowing owl, whose burrow I had discovered the week before when out scouting with a couple of local birders. Since the light was poor that day, I returned later to get the bird in the nice warm light of sunrise.
I found the owl sitting upright in the burrow, not crouched low as I’ve seen other owls. He seemed quite comfortable with my presence. He was situated on the edge of a golf course, and I was able to photograph him while standing on a paved road, so I’m guessing that he is quite used to people being in the vicinity. I was careful not to approach too closely however, as the too much human contact with a burrow has been known to displace owls permanently. As much as I liked the lighting and the photos, he never did pop out of his hole, and I wanted to try to get photos of him up out of the ground.
I returned two mornings later, this time a half hour earlier, so I could be there for day break. As I approached, I was excited to see the owl perched on a low branch of a nearby tree. I photographed the owl as the sun rose behind me, lighting the bird like a spotlight, while leaving the background dark. In order to compensate for a much brighter bird than the background, I had to dial down my exposure compensation to -2/3 of a stop, so as not to blow out the highlights of the owl.
In order to keep the ISO as low as possible, I opened up to the lens’ maximum aperture (5.6), knowing that with the owl’s fairly flat features, I could still get its entire face sharp at that depth of field. The shutter speed was just fast enough to photograph without needing to lock down the gimbal head of my tripod. However, because my subject wasn’t moving, I didn’t have to pan the lens with the bird, so I locked it down anyway, eliminating any chance of lens shake.
Soon after the photo above was taken, the sun rose higher in the sky and was casting small shadows into the owl’s large eyes. Sometimes the lighting is perfect for a given situation only for a few moments. While the owl was still in the tree at the time I left that morning, I knew it would only be a matter of time before it returned to its burrow for the day.