Saturday Evening Post: #40 “I will sing, sing a new song”

Ha!  Just messing with your minds really.

As our younger girl grew up, the group U2 were a constant source of music enjoyment in the house.

And as I hit number 40 for the Saturday Evening Post, I thought I’d quote from one of U2’s music would be a bit special.

Lots of interesting anecdotes about the piece, but I’ve always liked Bono’s statement, “We wrote it in 10 minutes, played in in 10 minutes, recorded it in 10 minutes, mixed it in 10 minutes, but that has nothing do with with why its called 40. (How Long!)

Rainbow Lorikeets are among some of the brightest, and most active little clowns that frequent the trees where we live.  They can always be counted on to come up with a new wing flap, expression, act, or even song to entertain.

I have no idea what this one was upto, but its mate was on the branch next door, and for some reason, lots of big wing flaps were needed to emphasise the importance of some point of communication.  I managed to get it right on the end of the outward stroke.

“Many will See, Many will See and Hear” (40, How Long)

Enjoy

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Saturday Evening Post: #39 Decisive Moment

Photography is one of those great expressive mediums that, unlike, say, painting, words, sculpture or dance, to name a few, relies on the moment. At the press of the shutter, the motif is set.  An author can rework a sentence, paragraph, chapter or even a complete manuscript.  Painters leave in, or add in necessary parts of the subject to provide just the right story.

Famed street photographer, Henri Cartier-Bresson,  —HCB—(he was much more than that), coined a term “The Decisive Moment”.  Often quoted in photo blogs, books, magazines and the like, (including this one it seems),  yet rarely understood in the context with which he gave it life.

Here’s a good working definition:

“The decisive moment refers to capturing an event that is ephemeral and spontaneous, where the image represents the essence of the event itself.”

As Captain Barbosa in “Pirates of the Caribbean” says, ” There be lots of long words in there, and we’re naught but humble pirates.”

Reams have been written, and great theses developed to explain what HCB might or might not have meant.
He also said, “To me, photography is the simultaneous recognition, in a fraction of a second, of the significance of an event.”

and then this, “Photographers deal in things which are continually vanishing and when they have vanished there is no contrivance on earth which can make them come back again.”

That sounds more like my bird photography in the field.

It’s been quite awhile, since we’ve been able to find, let alone work with Eastern Yellow Robins, but EE’s perseverance hung out again this past week, and we managed a few minutes in the You Yangs with an active feeding bird.
After several relocations and changes in light, I was getting a feel to the actions of the bird.

And because of the morning light getting a reasonable balance of fore and background from the hard light was a challenge. Find bird in viewfinder, move about for best background.

Then it landed on a single upright branch. After several shots against dark and light backdrops I settled on the light on dark approach, and the bird turned into the lighter side.  I waited.  And then almost imperceptibly, the ‘significance of an event’ occurred as the bird bobbed as it lined up the next meal, and then slid of the perch.
Nailed it.

1906-30_DWJ_7466

 

 

 

 

Saturday Evening Post: #38 “I accept what is offered”

Been a wet stormy day in our neighborhood.

So, I settled into the window seat, with a nice hot cuppa, a few good books, and watched the clouds chase one another across the sky.

First stop was T S Eliot “Ash-Wednesday”,
I rejoice that things are as they are

And another from Lao Tze,
“I am a guest in this world, delighted by my host’s generosity, I accept what is offered”.

A week back EE and I had set out on a very bright sunny morning to go to Point Cook Coastal Park to look for Flame Robins.

Did I mention sunny, oh, yes, it looked like a treat.  But by the time we had arrived on the ground, a huge grey cloud could be seen over the horizon and coming in our direction.  Within a few minutes a thick sea-mist had set in.  And with no breeze, it just hung in the air.

We found some robins, but the lack of light and the difficulty of getting close enough to get a clean shot meant that our time was severely limited to a few records of the birds at work.

One of my mentors used to talk of the two major influencers on a photograph.  The Elements, and the Intent.

Elements are easy. They are the ‘things’ and the camera settings we choose.  The Intent is what am I trying to say. What will the view perceive and what is the best way to approach and arrange the elements.

And what better way to challenge those opportunities that the use of the mist to eliminate all the unnecessary and concentrate on the intent.
As I’d not bothered to bring a smaller lens, out came the iPhone and a bit of a look about soon revealed some panoramic opportunities.  (I’ve talked here before about my fascination with the wide-wide view and really appreciate the simplicity of the phone’s pano feature).

The old gate was an obvious choice and I enjoyed the wrestle to find the right framing, and the best backdrop.

And I came across a small pine seedling struggling to exist on an old log of its previous generations. (Lao Tze would be impressed).

Here is how it looked, and here is a link to the final on Flickr.

Enjoy

One of my first options
What I really wanted was the old gateway to dominate the frame

 

And the first look at the seedling at work

And here is a link to the final that I shared on Flickr.

 

The eternal struggle for life

Saturday Evening Post: #37 Rich Songster

The 13th Century Persian Poet Rumi, wrote

“I want to sing like the birds sing, not worrying about who hears or what they think.”

He, no doubt, had never heard of the great songster of the Australian bush, but again, no doubt, he would have been impressed by the range, the volume, and the variety of the songs of the Grey Shrikethrush.

In winter when there is no one to impress, the one or two note call is quite penetrating, but hardly melodic, but come the season for mating, the call changes to the most beautiful and sustained tunes.
I once found one nesting in a old concrete tank, the shape of the broken top of the tank made the whole thing a superb sounding box, and as I peeked in side the bird was in full cry, not worried about who hears, not what they think.

It is estimated that a pair will maintain a 10 hectare sized territory, and perhaps that is why the loud song must ring from one end to the other.

Their diet is quite catholic, and they have no qualms about helping themselves to robins, thornbills and other small birds egg and young.  I once saw an adult with a match-sized stick, poking it into a hole in  a branch to lever out a small grub.

John Latham, one of Australia’s early and great naturalists gave it the binomial Colluricincla harmonica. Colluricincla refers to Thrush, while harmonica, from the  Greek harmonikos, – skilled in music, and Latin, harmonicus- harmonious.

This was one of a pair that were working their way along a river’s edge.  The simple calls were enough to keep them in contact with one another, but also gave me the opportunity to locate them amongst the scrub.

 

Saturday Evening Post #36, Sounding Solitude

Someone asked me the other day, about my habit of regularly getting up early in the morning and spending the first hour or so out walking. At the present, most of that time its in the dark, as the sun doesn’t raise its sleepy head until around 7:30am.

My walk takes me along a bicycle path besides the Werribee River among some wonderful old Red River Gums.  My answer to the question probably was a bit profound for the uninitiated, but I responded.  “I like walking at that hour of the morning as I can hear the trees breath”.

Lao Tzu suggests in one of his famous verses that a harmonious life is built around a sense of awe and acceptance.  Walking at the hour helps me build that sense of awe.

In the 16th century the mystical poet, St John of the Cross would write a somewhat similar thought of awe and acceptance.

My beloved is the mountains,
And lonely wooded valleys,
Strange islands,
and resounding rivers,
The whistling of love-stirring breezes,

The tranquil night,
At the time of the rising dawn,
Silent music,
Sounding solitude,
The supper that refreshes and deepens love.

The light skipping through the trees weaves its dance of shape and form and is miraculous. Unhindered, it scatters its rays of brilliance, plying shape and shadow without thought or favour. Working it magic in the natural course of the universe.
Lao Tzu would say, enjoying the moment “You will never weary of the world”.

Saturday Evening Post: #35 Of Shape and Form

I have of late been looking at the prospect of replacing my ageing Lightroom.  Adverse, as I am to paying the Adobe conglomerate a monthly hostage or blackmail fee, I was hoping to find a reasonable standalone option.  Not that I want flashy sliders and zillions of use/ful/less presets. No, my requirement are simple.  Good image management, and the excellent keyword search facilities.  Truth be told, I think Abobe still are the only ones in the ball park.

But I was amused to look at some of the offerings.  Catchy marketing phrases, “Make the most of your photos.”
“Reveal the hidden photo within”. “Photos that will look their ABSOLUTE best”. “Match your artistic inspiration”.

I worry about ‘finding the hidden photo’, as in I’ll put up an image I’d have deleted anyway, and a few tweaks with the ‘inspired’ AI software, and dah dah!  Oh, what a great image,  I didn’t know I was THAT good a photographer. Where has the image been all my life.

Yet not one of them has the simple ability to find the Keyworded “Black-shoudered Kite, WTP 600mm f.8, D810”, or what ever. With just on 100+k images, I’m not likely to rekeyword to match a program that can’t read standard IPTC data sets.

But what got me thinking was the ability to now discover previously overlooked photos that somehow match my artistic inspiration.

As a young photo-assistant, my mentor talked of three images.  The one we saw, the one we photographed, and the one we printed and distributed to the customer.  Now it seems we can add a fourth, the one we never saw coming.
Which I suppose means I can mindlessly point the camera out the window, run the file through some AI (artificial intelligence, in case you’ve not been keeping up), and lo, there it is in all its glory. No longer is digital development or enhancement a craft in the service of my vision.  It has become my vision.

It’s like a singer with no vocal training, no voice development and no concept of fine breathing picking up an AI microphone and revealing the hidden talent within to sound like Pavarotti.

There is, so say the ancient sages, a little bit of Yang in Yin, and a little bit of Yin in Yang. I’m often grateful that I came to photography at the height of black and white. The power that comes from working to get the best angle, the right shape, the richest lighting, all necessary to take our 3D world and bring it on to a 2 D medium, print/book/screen.

Push the Yang, and we get dark moody results. Push the Yin, and light and bright shines forth.

I found this Little Raven on a local tv antenna. It was preening, and talking to its family stationed on other close perching spots. At some point, just as I pressed the shutter, it decided to turn and talk to its close neighbour.

What astounds me is the bird’s ability to turn its head in the direction it’s going to move, then lift off and with total confidence turn its body to match the direction and plant its feet back on the perch. Poetry in motion.

The yin of the eye makes its statement within the yang of the bird.  The yin of the cloudy sky is balanced by its little bit of dark antenna.

The freedom of the bird is contrasted by the fixedness of the aerial.

The confidence of the bird is balanced against the rigidness of the tubes.

The cleverness of the bird making use of the available is contrasted against the metal structure built for just one purpose.

I’d love to see AI find all that.

Saturday Evening Post: #34 Getting Close

It is said of famous battle photographer Robert Capa, when asked by a collegue why his photos weren’t good enough, responded, “If your photographs aren’t good enough, you aren’t close enough.”

It’s easy at first blush to believe that Capa meant, well, get out of the trench and get close to the action. However it is more than likely that his comment had a much deeper meaning of getting close to the subject in an intimate knowledgeable way.

It’s about a matter of experiencing. And as bird photographers we chase distant subjects with the longest lenses, and its hard to establish a feeling of the intimate from a distance.

For us its a matter of spending time, respecting the subject, and allowing the time to wonder. I really believe one of the great gifts of photography is that it teaches us to see. And not just what we see,

but,

How we see it.

So much so that I can say, with some degree of wonder, that the camera has opened my eyes to the world around me. Not just the natural, but the human. Some of it from the dark side, but also from the beauty. It’s not a perfect world, but I don’t want to discuss that here.

The gift helps us to learn to see. Moments of interaction of shape, light, line colour, slow down.
And we make space for wonder at the world around us and the brillance of the amazing medium we have to share those moments with others.

Saturday Evening Post: #33 Connection & A Headsup for Interest

Photographers, as Freeman Patterson says, are aware of connections. They are everywhere.

Because, as photographers of natural things, our opportunities are almost as endless as our subject matter. We tend to approach our subject in one of two ways.

  1. Making realistic documentary shots.
    of
  2. Making impressionistic creations of shape, tone, colour and form.

Or, sometimes it can be a combination of both. Making compositions that suggest more than they actually tell. They cause the viewer to use their imagination as they look at the elements. It’s what they speak to individuals.

My old mate John Harris was always a big believer in causing people to ‘use their imagination—to engage the viewers sense of fantasy and wonder.’

Photography really has a relationship with chance. We think of the ‘lucky’ photographer who makes an image at just the right moment.

Yet often it is no accident. Particularly if the ‘lucky’ photographer seems to be able to repeat it time after time.
It is not accident if the photographer anticipates the event and is ready.

It is not so much an accident as hoping and purposefully waiting for the ‘lucky’ chance.

We were as it happens photographing Sooty Oystercatchers, when I saw this Royal Spoonbill beating its way along the shoreline.
What I wanted, I told myself was the bird isolated against either the blue of the sky or the darker blue of the sea. But by the time the bird was ‘in range’ it was flying pretty much along the horizon line. And I couldn’t get any higher, so had to content myself with the bird isolated against the lighter sky.

Later as I was looking at the shots on the screen, I had marked all the horizon line images for deletion. And that would have been the end of it.

And then the connection dawned on me. The bird is suspended between its two elements. Air and Water.

A quick crop, straighten up that horizon and job’s done. Connection.

Headsup
Not sure if you are a watcher of things video online.
There is a city building in Ohio in the US of A that was destined for renovation. As they began work on the building they discovered a pair of American Kestrel had just nested in an isolated part of the building.  To the credit of the building company, they have suspended work for two months so the young can hatch and grow up without interference. They also installed a web cam and you can watch the progress of the young family.

 

Here’s the link.

Take a look inside an American Kestrel nest

If you are fortunate, lucky or well connected, you’ll get to see Mum feeding her brood.

Enjoy

Saturday Evening Post: #32 “Let there be…”

Light.  (and as someone once said, You could see for Miles!!) 🙂

Had a day with BirdLife Werribee—formerly Werribee Wagtails—in the Gardens.  (Melbourne Royal Botanic no less).

At one of the entrance gates these rather formal lights, from a bygone era attrached our attention. So much so that the birdo in my was laid to oneside and the building and details photographist took over.

I was limited by a couple of things. Longish lens, so I had to move back, and lack of space to move back without getting some tree, bush or pole in the way.  I also really wanted the shapes to be established behind a shaded area to give the right contrast. In the end, I had to make the exposure through some branches that blew back and forth in the breeze. Never mind, managed in the end.

Did a little job with the Photoshop brush to enhance the brillance of those golden filagree, to balance the richness of the glowing globe.

As Freeman Patterson says of light, “It’s the resulting shapes, lines, textures and perspectives that you have to arrange in the picture space. Not the Light. Stay focused on the elements, once appropriately arranged, the resulting light will carry the story.”

Saturday Evening Post #31 Evoking a Response

I had started on a journey for this post, through managing digital photos (digital assets—always important to use the right technical terms, so the masses know they are dealing with a well studied and knowledgable source.), but as it developed into a a bit of a rant, I thought something a little more lighthearted might be a better Evening Post.

Freeman Patterson once said, “A good photograph is one that clearly shows the character of the subject while revealing a little of the photographer’s response to it.”

Hard for us bird photographers sometimes and the bird is usually not the least concerned about allowing us any emotional response at a personal level, so we have to include that in other ways.
The placement in the frame, the isolation or inclusion of the surrounds, the pose of the creature, and the form, shape, tone and texture that we area able to achieve.

“If you think of a photograph in this way, you’ll find your personal direction, as a photographer emerging and becoming clearer”. And I’d add to that both to yourself, and those who view the photos.

“Coming to know yourself through interaction with someone or something is very satisfying.  In the end you get the picture, of both of you.”

Which somehow gets me on the beach with the light changing over a Pied Cormorant. A fairly tolerant bird at best, so its not to hard to work with them. But I’m on the wrong side with the light, the background is bland and the bird stoic if nothing else.

Risking putting the bird to air, I moved until the backdrop was at least neutral, and about the same time, a sliver of light came out, the bird turned and I pressed the shutter.

I often gain as much from just sitting or standing and watching the bird in its own world. Little character traits become obvious—here the foot folded up under the tummy. Other times it is just a matter of waiting until all the elements come together. I may make a photograph, or I may not, but the fact that I can observe, see, apply visual design and appreciate the bird’s life for its own sake, enables me to remain fully relaxed for the moment.

Australian Pied Cormorant, Phalacrocorax varius

Saturday Evening Post #30 “Whatchabeendoin”

Apologies: Sorry about late delivery, normally I prepare this early for upload, but had a couple of hectic days. Enjoy.

 

“Whatchabeendoin?”

A question that always came up among a group of photographers that I worked with.
We were an eclectic bunch.  A radiographer, a teacher and lecturer, a writer and creative, a wedding photographer, a specialist in commercial, with a leaning toward panoramic shots with a “Widelux” camera, a landscape photographer whose work with a Gandolfi Variant on 5×7 Inch set styles the digital workers are only beginning to achieve, and me, who around that time was working with a lab processing film for variety of sources, including “The Day in the Life of.. (Australia)” and Rick Smolan’s “Treks” for Nat Geo, the story of Robyn Davidsons’ camel trip across the Northern Territory and Western Australian deserts.

So after the usual answers, to “Whatchabeendoin?”, of:  “I did the Smith and Alexandar” wedding last week, to: “I’m in an underground carpark doing wide shots for an architect who is going to redevelop the area, to: “I’m doing a series of trees along the escarpment on the Western Arthurs”, we’d get down to what we were doing creatively.

Usually half a dozen so slides or prints were laid out and we’d discuss, creatively where the feel, or life, or experience of each of the shots was taking us as viewers.

One of the group was an Englishman who had worked in his youth as a photographer for a postcard company, he would travel about taking photos of various tourist attractions for postcard sales. Pubs were his speciality.  And interestingly enough, almost all his pub shots had one thing in common.  Potted geraniums in the foreground on the scene. He used to have in the back of the little Morris van, a selection of potted plants and would set them up out the front of the building, ‘for colour and added interest’.

He could do about 5-7 shots in a day.  And off course always talked to the landlord and shared a pint or two as he went.  By the end of the day he was well oiled.  “It is one of the reasons that we say, “Merry old England’, he would quip.

The Widelux guy and I ended up working together for a large multinational company, and once at the end of a conference, the obligatory ‘group photo’ was made.  They had hired a dude with a Widelux (an F7 to be precise), and this camera didn’t have a shutter, it had a rotating lens on a slit. And shot on a curved back with 120 roll film for a very long pano shot.  The exposure took several second as the lens rotated around the scene and the film (Bit like panos on hand fones today)
We reasoned that if we stood at one end of the group at the beginning of the exposure and then ran behind the group to the other end, and stood there, we’d be in the shot at both ends of the group. Great idea. We did.

But of course the person who ‘shouted louder and controlled the purse strings’ was not amused by our action, and we both ended up working in different part of the company sometime after that. “Childish and pathetic” were some of the less colourful words used.

The couple of years we worked together provided some of the best work, creatively and expressively that I think I ever did. The creative input, and the welcome feedback, not the ‘oh nice shot’, but— where is this going, how to I feel about it, and what is it saying, were all great guides that ended up keeping us alive to our work.

Time of course goes on, and we all moved by to other opportunities. However for quite a long time we’d occassionally get together for a meal, and the inevitable, “Whatchabeendoin?”

One particular day, I turned up with an iPad. (the original one), and a small folio of bird photos I was working on. It was one of the nesting season of Kestrels that I was following. Somewhere on the blog are shots and stories from those years.
We met in a restaurant near Vic Market, and after a few bottles of red, the ‘Whatchabeendoin” came up.

Andrew, the pub photographer above, latched on to the image shown here.  It was taken during the rain that broke the 7 year drought that season, about 4 days of constant rain.
The bird is Elizabeth as she waits in the mist for Mr Darcy to return with some breakfast. He had only been able to get out to hunt occasionally for several days, and spent most of his time trying to stay dry on the tree.
The nesting site was very close to end of the runway at Tullarmarine, and there was a constant stream of aircraft coming and going over the site.
All I had to do was line up the bird with an incoming and my image was made.
Andrew was taken with the red of the light and the isolation of the shape of the bird, and we talked about the shot for several minutes.
Then he said prosaically, “Y’know, you could have improved this!”,

Oh, saith I.

“Yes I think a few well-placed potted geraniums at the end of the runway would have “added that little extra colour and interest”.’
🙂

So I ask, “Whatchabeendoin?”

Saturday Evening Post :29 “Salty”

Meet “Salty”.
I don’t know if that its real name, but an old sea dog deserves a distinguished name.

EE and I were at the Werribee South beach photographing Pelicans.  Hmm, there is a post somewhere back there about the adventure.

I turned round ‘seaward’, to see a bloke, and his kayak and his dog, paddling along the water’s edge. Salty had a front row seat on the kayak.

Not sure if I’m more impressed by Salty’s excitement about being on the sea, or the owner’s clever solution for holding the plastic bucket on top of the kayak.

Took me back to me childhood of messing about in boats on the mighty Murray River. Among some of our summer fun as growing lads was a small skiff which plied the river from dawn to dark, and carried home our catch for the day.  Sometimes it was a pirate ship, sometimes a mighty naval vessel, and sometimes it, just like us kids, ‘went exploring’.  And always in the company of one or two of the family dogs.
One particular dog, I’ve talked about here before. “Puppy, or Dog’, depending on who was talking, and what were the circumstance, was a Blue-Heeler cross Fox Terrier, with a snippet of whippet thrown in for good measure.

Like Salty, Dog would sit up in the bow, or sometimes hang off the stern fascinated by the rippling water passing by. So it was a little bit nostalgic for me to watch the delight and exuberance of Salty as they sailed by.

They returned an hour or so later, and I saw them disembark on the pier about 500m from where I was standing.  Salty, jumped onto the pier, a few quick shakes, and look around, it then trotted off the pier in search of new adventures.

I love to see dogs without collars and tags,—I’m an anarchist, or perhaps a iconoclast when it comes to having to id my ‘stuff’. I’m not against the registering of animals etc, just the need for them to carry such id as a sign of being ‘owned’ by some human type person. Dog was never owned, it shared its life with us, and in return we shared with it. She didn’t need a ‘tag’ to know she was part of our family. And for all those who have had such relationships, you know no-one can break that bond.

So sail on Salty, may the kayak take you on many an adventure, “yo, ho ho, it’s a pirates life for me!”

 

Saturday Evening Post #28 Brightening up the Grey Box Forest

For EE and I it was time for our annual pilgrimage across town  for an evening with friends.
As we pondered the going, there was a moment’s pause while we contemplated “It will be Thursday Evening before the Easter Holiday break, and by about 4:00pm the roads are going to clog up with holiday traffic and the RIng-road will be at a standstill, moan, moan, complain.”

Ah, says she, with a smile, and always full of bright ideas, why don’t we leave after lunch, take a picnic snack, and go early to visit Woodlands Historic Park and look for Robins, then we’ll only have a short drive to our evening destination.

We did, and arrived at the Werroona Carpark in plenty of time.  Then “Dolly” got ready for her maiden trip into the Bandicoot Hilton, also known locally as “The Backpaddock”.

Poor old Grey Box forest is showing the signs of no rain for several months.  Not such a big deal to the venerable Grey Box themselves, they are quite adept at surviving in hostile environments. But the understory, and particularly the moss beds that the Robins depend on over winter are simply dry dust.

As we walked down toward the Backpaddock gate, we mused about the lack of birds, and how in past seasons, there would have been Red-capped Robin activity visible from the roadway. At the height of the best seasons several years ago, we had 15-20 pair of Red-capped Robin territories mapped.  The pair we named “Lockey and Primrose” were always ready to pop out along the road near the cemetery to watch our progress past.  There are quite a few posts on the blog of our interaction with this gracious pair.

When I first started photographing out in the backpaddock, my friend Ray, who taught me so much about the area, and the birds out there, would often stop and chat with me inside the gate.  A male Red-capped Robin, would usually come by, sit on a branch nearby and listen to our conversations.
These days not one of those territories exists. In a strange turn of events since the introduction of the Eastern Bandicoot programme in the backpaddock, the number of Red-caps has been decimated. I’m not suggesting a link, just a co-incidence.

We walked the usual (old) kangaroo pads, through the forest, but did not see or hear any robin activity.  More walking, and then Dolly took a swerve off the path, and we headed into the forest proper. Dolly is not 4WD, so it was not going to be a long journey.  When just in front of me I saw a splash of red on a stump. Heart races, point camera, yes, indeed.
It’s a Flame Robin male.

We were able to work with him for about 20 minutes, hoping all the while that his clan would turn up, but as the light began to fade and our departure for the evening was closing in, it was time to go.

But, we did have a feel that there is life in the old Grey Box forest yet.

Enjoy

Saturday Evening Post #26 Responding with Wonder

Every year the White-winged Terns (not very aptly named I suggest), wing their way south and a group of them visit the Western Treatment Plant.

They come in varying stages of breeding plumage from white (hence the name), to mottled black, to an impressive Jet Black. To be graced by the presence of these birds is a real highlight for me and we spend several sessions down a the WTP trying to capture them in flight.  Not always easy, as tricky as they are, sometimes they hunt on ponds that are inaccessible from the roadway. But when the light is right, they are hunting close and the action is fast and furious it is indeed a photographic delight.

After my confusing rant last week which had started out well enough on an examination of lighting techniques and the astounding work of Dean Collins, I thought I’d be a bit more circumspect this week and stick to, well, you know, birds.  And the enjoyment of images.

Seeing as Freeman Patterson explains it, is “…using your senses, intellect and your emotions. Encountering your subject with your whole being.
It means looking beyond the labels of things and discovering the wonderful world around you.”

These birds fill me with awe, they travel to us from Asia, or maybe Northern Europe. They don’t breed here, but spend their time feeding up for their trip to warmer climes.  My challenge is not to just capture their presence, but also to grasp a hint of their freedom to roam the world, not encumbering it, but making it a little more enjoyable for those who accept their invitation to wonder.

White-winged Tern in late evening light