Things have been a bit hectic at Studio Werkz.
I was sitting quietly on a seat in the shade of the late afternoon sun, waiting for some ducks to begin their bathing routine in the late sunshine.
When, for no reason other than it wanted to, this young Nankeen Night Heron swung down out of the sky and landed a few metres from me feet.
WIth the sun as the main light source coming directly from behind me, and sprinkling its goodness as it came through the tall trees and foliage, tiny pin-point spot lights were the order of the day.
The rich golden light of that evening sun, seemed in so many ways to balance and enhance the young bird’s feather set.
My real challenge was to keep the exposure from washing out the highlights, and also from blocking up the shadows. I tend to use a Picture Control on…
I have to say, I’ve never seen a White-faced Heron engaged in a bathing session.
That is until today.
Was working with a couple of Nankeen Night Heron juveniles, and somewhere, you know, way over there, was a White-faced Heron. Not that I was really interested at that distance anyway.
Then.
For its own reasons, it waded out into the deeper water, and proceeded to settle down into the water up to the top of its wings. And then it must have rocked back on its wings/tail and stood vertically. Most interesting. Continue reading “Bathing Beauty”→
I suppose that many of us have at one time or another tried to photograph a diving water bird. If for no other reason than the challenge. The problem is they don’t wave flags, or seem to indicate that they are about to dive. Like Pooh bear, they just do.
I was sitting watch a pair at the Werribee Mansion Ornamental Lake the other evening and again the need to try to catch one on plunge overwhelmed me and I started out trying to get that moment. 30 frames later, it was obvious, well at least to me, that said Grebe was pretty slick at getting underwater.
But, the more I watched, the more interesting it all became.
Been a bit frantic with a number of projects the past week or so, and have a bit more to add to Studio Werkz.
EE suggested a bit of a break from serious bird photography, and an early morning at the You Yangs Park sounded about right.
When I was a mere broth of a photographer, and just learning the craft, almost all weddings, portraits and product and advertising photography was done in the Studio. Photographers like D’acre Stubbs specialised in getting just the right light on a product, and Wolfgang Sievers made wonderful detailed industrial photos with dramatic lighting.
And I traded my poor old Super Baldar, 120 folding camera for the chance to learn the craft as a trainee.
Mostly we think of Swamp Harriers as pretty serious birds, going about their serious business and always on the look out for the next meal.
So we were a bit taken back to find a couple of Swamp Harriers, engaged, in what can only be described as games.
It’s often seen among the Whistling Kites and Black-shouldered Kites, but Swamp Harriers seem to be very much the solo bird.
These two took it seemed great delight in working the air, and making passes at one another. They remained at it for at least 10 minutes, and stayed around the river edges, so we were able to follow them along for much of the time. In the end, both swept away, to see what they could find among the ducks now congregating along the ponds.
Had a trip up to the family acres.
No trip that far and yet so close to Goschen can be let go without a side journey down to this great little area.
Goschen Roadside Reserve has gained among the birding fraternity something of a ‘honeypot’ status. And it seems with good reason.
Isolated as it is from the wetlands down the road at Lake Boga and surrounded by wheat paddocks on every side, the little handkerchief of land wedged next to a road junction, provides both a home and a welcome stop over for many species. Continue reading “Venturing into the ‘Hood’. Hooded Robin that is”→
I jest about writing a book on getting some good photos of these most fascinating and elusive creatures.
They have absolutely no tolerance for humans. And I beleive they have the area mapped and anything that wasn’t there on the last pass, is either a food opporunity or danger to be avoided.
++++ Editorial Note: This was written back in May 2016, due to complicated circumstances, (if you will) I had let its publication slide. Enjoy. ++++++
One of the most endearing myths surrounds the Search for the “Grail”. This mysterious cup that is the hero’s quest.
Joseph Campbell, is one of my favourite authors and while I don’t always concur with his conclusions, his insight into the depths of myth and legend always intrigues me.
One such story is the Hero’s Journey. A story that is played out over and over in old Hebrew texts, Chinese history, Indian legends, South American dramas, and innumerable other historical stories. And into modern-day novel such as Dan Brown’s “Da Vinci Code”
Simplified it’s “Local Hero—(ine) makes Good”.
Somewhere the legend becomes intertwined with knights bold of old and ends up as justification for the wholesale slaughter that was inflicted during the Crusades, in search of the now “Holy Grail” the cup that held the crucified Messiah blood.
Campbell writes it best as the story of Sir Perceval, although there are lots of previous versions going well back into the Dark Ages of Europe.
Still.
Sir Perceval, is off on his Quest. His is the journey to visit the wasteland, (Joyce devotees take note {++ Ed Note: I was thinking of Ulysses, here, but as Cheryl rightly points out the reference probably belongs more to T.S. Eliot++}), of a certain king, sometimes called the Fisher King who is the possessor of the Grail. Giver of Eternal life. This dude is crippled, variously described as from battle or curse, and the ‘grail’ keeps him alive. He not only has the cup, but is wont to hand out helpful advice and wisdom to any who would enter his realm (Aside— I’ve often pondered if he was so smart and wise how come his kingdom was a wasteland and his subjects abject suffering wretches— but let’s not let detail get in the way of a good story)
Sir Perc, is supposed to ask the magic question, but of course his chivalrous upbringing, (or lack of) means he can’t do that, so he misses out on the prize. Now banished he too must walk his own wasteland. (I do see a picture building up here).
Before your eyes glaze over, he returns, retrieves the grail, heals the king, the land and puts out the cat and makes toast. On ya Perc, good afternoon’s work.
(Aside: always wanted to write it that way for my term paper on Myth and Symbol, but figured a pass was better than a laugh).
Which brings Sir Perceval, that is the name of our little grey car, on its quest to the Wasteland of the Western Treatment Plant in search of “The Grail”.
On board Sir Perc are EE, Mr An Onymous and your erstwhile writer. The Grail is “White-bellied Sea-eagle”
There are several of these amazing birds at work over the Treatment Plant ponds. The amount of duck on the water is fairly easy picking for a well-trained Sea-eagle, and these dudes are well trained. (Even without the Fisher King’s help, they know fishing)
Yet.
Finding one in a good location, and up-close and personal, has always been a problem for Perc and contents. EE had a plan, not the first you are reminded, but none the less a plan. Mr An Onymous had the lens ready and a theory for everything. And me. I was looking for birds.
We entered the track alongside the Little River, being allowed access by the “Gate Keeper”, Little Pied Cormorant who is often at work near the gate.
Onwards
Two Whistling Kites departed from the Specimen Tree, and were away before a lens was pointed. On to the Japan Tree. This lovely tree has featured here on the blog and on my Flickr site regularly. A tree of a thousand poses, it sits on the edge of the causeway over Little River.
I spotted it in the tree.
Grey and white in the sunshine.
I slowed Sir Perc and stopped. Each looked about. “Not much here- as usual”.
“What about the Sea-eagle,” I reply.
“Oh it would be so good if we saw one somewhere along the track today, ” reply.
“Well what about that one up in the tree,” saith I.
“Yeah, that would be a good spot”
“It’s there on the left-hand side.”
Brains click into gear, doors open, cameras start to bundle images onto memory cards.
“It’s tough light here,” add I, “I’m going to take the car to the other side of the causeway.”
Meanwhile, I’m adding up the possibilities.
Move to other side of causeway.
Light better.
Not hidden among tree branches
Bird will throw if I move the car
If bird throws from this side it will be into the light and we’ll get silhouettes.
Walking about will make it throw.
Take the risk.
So, Sir Perceval moves over to the far side of the causeway. I think I heard the Fisher King groaning.
Bird is relaxed. Goodo—out of the car, setup the lens, beanbag on roof, line up shot, check exposure, make more shots.
Change camera to the shorter lens. — Mistake. Note to self. Only take one camera/lens combo next time.
The light is about as good as it gets, the pose is as regal as they come and the memory card is still taking in the images.
Then
It ruffles the wings, and I can only say, under my breath, “It’s about to throw”, to no one in particular, and before I can change back to the longer lens, it’s airborne. No time to put up the big camera. Mutter under breath about senility.
And
It throws out into the open, pulls the big wings about, and comes directly into the sunshine. No time to ponder correct exposure now, this is what we came for.
“Well, we can go back for coffee now”, I announce. But the others are ‘chimping’ at the review screens on the camera. Y’know, head down, arms waving, “Oh, oh, oh”
Not a bad morning’s work. The Sir Perc of Old would be happy.
Enjoy
The Gate Keeper “Who dares enter here?”First sighting. Lost among the branchesThat was the view I was looking forElegance has a formWing ruffle, its time to go.Beginning to stretch the wingsCoiled and ready to unwindStepping out, wing driving to the leftSuccesful launchAnd against the best backdrop sky
I’ve made it a bit smaller pdf, so don’t go viewing it on the 30″monitor and expecting hi res. Cause ‘taint there. Mostly to conserve my limited WP space.
“the occurrence and development of events by chance in a happy or beneficial way”
The weather map showed a large high stalled over us for most of the day. “Let’s do an evening at the Western Treatment Plant”, saith, I. “We could take down the picnic, and have a fine old evening watching the sunset over the bay, and maybe photograph a few birds, and well, just enjoy the evening sea breeze. What thinkest thou?”.
A call to Mr An Onymous, and the famed, and legendary “Blackmobile” was on the highway loaded with his fine repast. EE and I decided on a Peri-Peri Chicken Salad, and a round of Earl of Grey.
Went to visit the Jacky Nursery last evening.
Both parents are busy looking after the two fledglings, now ensconced in separate trees. One little dude had chosen to fly in and land in a tree that White-plumed Honeyeaters consider “their territory”.
I’ve made the statement before that Jacky Winter are birds that have stolen my heart.
They are not the most startling of colour, nor do they seem to have a particular outstanding feature that makes them a special bird. They used to carry the unfortunate name, “Lesser Fascinating Bird”, so that should be a hint as to how we’ve seen them in the past.
But
They have a pleasant nature, and don’ t seemed too fussed by us humans. And once they have id’d us, they seem to settle into tolerance bordering on disdain.
We were in the You Yangs some weeks back and it was casually mentioned, “Oh, I saw a Jacky Winter down near the old school building”, as in— well that ticked Lesser Fascinating Bird off my list, have you seen anything important? It was enough to make me stop on the way out and scout around.
Birds as Poetry —— Just because I WANDER doesn't mean I'm LOST 