Wandering

A few days ago, I began what ended up being many, many miles driven, in different locations in an attempt to find and photograph suitable subjects. I drove, I walked, I sat, I pondered. The harder I looked, the less presented itself, or so it seemed. On a whim, I decided to take an unlikely detour to a location where I felt it was unlikely to really find anything. I had nothing but time, so I took the road (I could throw in, “less traveled,” which it was, but that would be cliché) and not really paying much attention. Then, in my view was an animal. At first I thought I had seen an otter and as I slowed to get a better view, it disappeared. Continuing on, I found nothing, except a bull moose about three counties away, so that was out of the question. I returned to the location I had seen the yet to be identified critter, and there is was. So, I carefully stopped so I could observe what I had found. To my disbelief, I was looking at a beaver (Castor canadensis). I have never seen a beaver in winter before. This one was busy gathering branches from the surrounding brush, dragging them to a hole in the snow and then disappearing. As I waited, he/she appeared again and came completely out of the hole into which it had disappeared. It’s snout snow-covered from rearranging snow around one of the holes it was using. So, on balance, it ended up being a pretty good day.

American Robin

American Robin (Turdus migratorius) What does one do when there is high pressure sitting over the area, an inversion creating what some believe is crappy light and certainly nasty air quality, clouds, unseasonably warm temperatures, and a lack of birds? Practice! Five-hundred miles (Peter, Paul, & Mary should be playing through your head right now) traveled in the last couple of days, with nothing to show except some marginal photos of a Rough-legged Hawk and a Prairie Falcon. One can argue about wonderful light early in the morning and in the evening being more desirable. Some proclaim the current light is really crappy. And it might not be optimal, but the light when not the best creates challenges to overcome and provides opportunities — no harsh shadows, and in some cases more vibrants colors. After a time in the morning, the sun can become so bright that it can actually wash out the unique coloring of birds, and institute specular highlights where they usually are not wanted. Photographers who photograph flowers like cloudy days and muted light because of this very condition — more vibrant colors. So, what to do when things are not the best, make the best of the situation — shoot and practice at home in the yard. I was surprised at the willingness of birds to come so close and let me practice. In some instances, too close to focus on them within the minimum focusing limits of the lens I was using. Within 15 feet of my garage door, I was able to practice on a number of birds, including this sub-adult Robin who found delight in eating fruit from a non-fruit bearing (🤔), Flowering Pear tree. In addition to the Robin, I was joined by Chickadees, Goldfinches, Juncos, House Finches, Red-winged blackbirds, a Northern Flicker and a Downy Woodpecker, who was so close that I could only get its head in the viewfinder and was, consequently, too close to focus. More birds than I saw during recent travels and I only needed to walk a few steps.

Watching Us Watch Him

Bull Moose (Alces alces) I did’t think such a large animal could be sneaky, but sneaky, they are. Saw this Bull Moose in the Pebble Creek, Round Prairie area in Lamar Valley, YNP, early in the morning before the sun broke over the mountain. One lone bull appeared on the other side Soda Butte Creek and was too far for a decent shot from the road, even with long glass. So, I pulled on my coat and strode off through the snow and 5º temperatures to get closer. I was soon joined by another photographer, Dan Swart, Swart Photography. I was armed with the new Nikon Z7 camera and Nikkor 500mm PF lens. Seeing what others were hauling through the snow, willows, and small creeks, I felt as though I was cheating having such a small, light load. We stayed on the opposite side of the creek from the moose and continually lost him as he “snuck” through the tall vegetation. Eventually, he reappeared about 100 yards farther upstream from where we thought he was. The sun finally broke through the overcast skies, and illuminated the frost on the willows and other vegetation as the moose reappeared for a brief moment. Since the Z7 and 500mm PF are so compact and light, no tripod was necessary and I had not packed one in pursuit of the moose, which made it possible to move rapidly, lock focus, and shoot as the moose continued to be evasive. If you notice, he knew exactly where we were — he was watching us watch him.