Archive for the ‘Birdwatching’ Category
I went out to do some test shots and ended up shooting some panoramas. One was a 34 slice vertically oriented of the first island down at Don Edwards EEC. Despite handholding it, I was able to keep about 18 pieces well enough aligned to get a decent panorama out of it:

The full source of this is about a 1 gigabyte file. I’ve been experimenting with ways to put it online in a format that people can rationally see, and ended up making three versions:
Small: 864x114m 500K
Medium: 7200×953 33Mb
Large: 14,400×1906 135Mb
Why? Why not.. I’ve wanted to experiment with panoramas after seeing how George Lepp did some of his work at the last Morro Photo Expo, and I wanted to test out the performance of the new laptop. How best to do that? With a stress test, and mucking around with a 1Gb PNG definitely stresses things… This kind of work was practically speaking impossible on the old laptop, yet it was able to crunch this out in the background while I was doing other things without any significant lag. That’s nice… The hardest part was figuring out the best way to upload, and I finally decided just to SCP things up to my own server….
This really needs to be done on a levelled tripod, but with some care, you can do it handheld. For this, I metered in aperture mode, then switched to manual and set the shutter to match the metering. Using AF I refocussed for every segment. Where it finally failed is where I got a bit sloppy and missed a segment overlap by a bit and then lost my horizon and started leaning too much. But this is pretty good for a quick simple test.
Panos are one of the few things I still end up working on in photoshop (lightroom 3 with my plugins make photoshop almost unnecessary for my work. yippee!), so this was stiched in Photoshop, then I applied curves to clean up the exposure and contrast a bit, and then did some sharpening with unsharp mask, then exported in the three sizes.
Why is knowing how to manage this technique useful? More on that soon….
I don’t know why, but I’ve always loved photography black and white birds. Some of my favorites are the egrets where I’ve been shooting the bay area rookeries for years. and for some reason, I just love trying to photograph birds that have these extreme black and white coloring patterns.
I’m sure my camera hates me for it, too. In reality, these birds are tough to do well, especially in bright, glaring light. you need to avoid blowing out the white highlights and give the feathers some texture — but you can’t let the black areas turn into featureless masses of dark.
it gets worse. In many cases, the eye is resident in a dark patch, and is usually black. If you can’t create some definition in the eye, the image just looks weird. 
It’s important to try to bring get a catchlight in the eye. That’s one way you can create some definition and depth to it. You almost want to HDR every image (but that would be wrong) to try to extend the dynamic range to cover the light to dark transitions.
here’s one where the eye disappears. I like it otherwise, but the eye really isn’t visible, and because of that, this image isn’t quite right.
Compare that with this image. See how the eye makes a difference in the image? At least, it does to me.
it’s the difference between a nice image and one that really makes an impact. That takes some careful exposure and being mindful of your lighting to get that catchlight, and being thoughtful about your post processing as well. but when you do, it’s really worth it.
Heck, if it were easy, we’d be doing something else, right?
So I’m visiting Southern California this week, doing a remote work week with my mom and generally whining about the heat, which arrived the same day I did and started touching off brushfires. All reasons why I’m a former resident of southern california (but I’m glad I could spend time with mom).
Because of the heat I’ve mostly hid in the house with the airco on, my original plans to do some birding and exploring died with the triple digit heat. I did, however, take an afternoon and evening and wander down to the coast and spent a chunk of time at one of my favorite soCal birding spots, Bolsa Chica in Huntington beach.
You go to Bolsa Chica for a couple of things: black skimmers and terns. Neither disappointed. It’s one of the places the skimmers hang out in southern california, and this area is one of the major nesting sites for Least Terns and also a nesting site for a number of tern species, as well as Snowy Plover — but in Mid-July it’s late for nesting but not late for loud, cranky, whiny juveniles demanding to be fed and adults running around trying to feed them or convince them to get their own damn fish.
Black Skimmers are an east coast bird. A population was blown to this coast in a storm, and they survived and started breeding, so we now has a resident population both in SoCal and in the Bay Area. You’ll see them along the coast at times during migration as well. They are, honestly, really weird looking birds, which is part of their attraction. They feed by flying right at the surface and dipping the lower beak down to scoop up fish and other things. The beak is large and rather ungainly, so it’s not uncommon for skimmers at rest to be splayed out on the sand resting their beak on the ground and looking vaguely like roadkill. In the air, however, they’re a rather glorious bird to watch in action.
Terns are — well, terns are born grumpy and stay grumpy until they die. The sound of a tern rookery is amazing — to sit in Bolsa chica and listen to Tern Island half a mile away with a few tens of thousands of terns all yelling at each other — just be glad they’re half a mile away. It’s loud, and wonderful energy. I knew I’d see Least Terns and Elegant terns here, and was hoping for some others. As it turns out, I caught five species: Least, Elegant, Common, Forster’s and one lone Caspian that flew through — unmistakeable with the larger size and the banana sized beak compared to the other birds.
and, of course, some of the usual suspects. No reddish egret this trip, though.
you can see the best from this trip’s photography over on my Smugmug site:
Disclosing Photo Locations: How Much Information is Too Much? | G Dan Mitchell Photography:
Earlier this week I had the good fortune to join a several fine photographers (Charlie Cramer, Mike Osborne, and Karl Kroeber) for a few days shooting in the Tuolumne/Tioga Pass area of Yosemite National Park. Getting to spend time with photographers who have so much experience and knowledge of Yosemite was inspiring, and I’m grateful for the chance to join them. While sitting around during the “boring light” hours one afternoon – while waiting for early dinner and travel to a shooting location before the good light – Mike mentioned that they were going to a place that was best not publicized, and he joked that he “might have to blindfold” me if I were to accompany them. Mike was a Yosemite ranger for decades before he retired and it is clear that he loves and cares for the place deeply. He mentioned a few of my posts on this blog in which I had named photo locations and given, in his opinion, a bit too much information about where they are located. This concerns him because he has seen the damage caused by publicity of certain special locations first hand. He also feels that it is often better to gain information about these places the old fashioned way – by word of mouth from an acquaintance or by sleuthing them out yourself. In addition, he also points out – correctly, I think – that many of the photographs I post here are not so much about the location as they are about some thing I saw there, and that it might make sense to title photographs with that in mind. Mikes’ comments have caused me to think quite a bit over the past few days about this issue. First, a few words of self-defense, but then some changes that I intend to make.
It’s not just a photography issue. These situations come up in birding a well; once or twice a year here on the west coast I here of a situation where a notable bird is run off by a birder who gets too enthusiastic and encroaches on its territory enough to scare it away (ruining it for everyone else); it’s fairly common to see both birders and photographers go out of bounds — over fences, into restricted areas, blazing “new trails” in fields of wildflowers, etc — in an effort to get the shot or see the bird. Nests of notable species like owls get popular, and sometimes they get too popular and problems happen; sometimes the nest is abandoned.
What to do? Whenever these situations occur, the debate springs up. In reality, in birding, the debate was over long ago; the senior birders have learned over the years to be careful about being too disclosing about sensitive birds and habitat. They self-edit public disclosure to protect senstive birds and locations from being pounded to pieces by popularity — which occasionally creates debates about whether they have the “right” to not disclose these things by the folks not “in the loop” (short answer: of course they do. it’s their information. they’re under no obligation to share; get over it, and earn their respect and get involved enough in the community to be part of those private discussions. hint: I’m not yet; and I’m in no hurry).
What I wonder abut here is how technology is affecting this. Do sites like Flickr and ebird make it harder to be careful about these areas? Well, more and more of us carry phones with GPS in it; more and more cameras are coming with GPS chips in them, automatically encoding location in great detail, and sites like flickr will automatically disclose that data for you. Location-based sites like Gowalla and Foresquare are building businesses around this data, and I admit I’ve been exploring and experimenting with Foresquare and mobile GPS data as a way to help networking among birders — but this issue is one that’s made me go slow and try to think through not just how to use these new techie toys, but when, and why.
We haven’t yet STARTED the discussion of the ethics of these capabilities, or created some kind of standards to help people know when to publish that data and when to hide it. Who makes those decisions? Right now, it’s the elders in the group making judgement calls informally, but that model is going to fail over time as technology automates disclosure of this info. Is part of your instruction at a photo workshop going to be telling students to disable the camera GPS?
I think we need a dialog on this, and an understanding of disclosure vs. protection and how precise. Right now, since I geoencode my photos manually, I can choose just how precise my location is going to be; I have consciously chosen at times not to be TOO specific about the location of something, especially if I’m shooting a nest or working in sensitive terrain.
For that matter, the fact that I DO photograph nesting birds is controversial in some parts of photography, and I’m sensitive to that; I try to work under very specific rules when I work near nests, the first of which is simple: any time I get any hint I’m interfering with the nest, I leave. Immediately. I might try again at some later time and be more careful about distance and approach, but if I see any sign the birds are stressing, I get the hell out, now, and figure out next steps after they have the ability to settle down. I feel that way about any animal I’m photographing — if I flush a bird while trying to set up a shot, I slow down. If I flush it twice, I stop trying.
Unfortunately, not all photographers worry about their subjects enough, whether it be animal or a pristine location. And this is nothing new. I remember reading one of John Shaw’s photo books from the 80′s on macro photography in which he complained about witnessing another photographer take macro shots of a flower, and then destroying the flower to prevent any other photographer from shooting it.
Unfortunately, some people are jerks, some simply don’t care, and many are simply well meaning but naive. And I think we need to figure out how to teach those that are teachable to behave, and how to protect what we cherish from those that aren’t — especially since our tools are creating solutions that make it easier to show everyone where images were made and where birds were found, and in many cases, those tools are going to be doing so in an automated way that we may not remember to turn off (or strip), and that many others won’t even realize is happening…
I headed out to the coast in the first time in — I don’t know how long — to spend the day exploring and birding and doing some photography.
Spring migration is over (or effectively so), and so now the birding doldums are upon us. It’s going to be fairly quiet until fall migration starts. I birded three locations today — Gazos creek (south san mateo county), the shore south of Pigeon Point, and Fitzgerald Marine Reserve in moss beach.
It was all pretty quiet, but I did run into some nice birds. At Gazos creek I first ran into a Eurasian Collared dove, an introduced species that’s been expanding its territory here in the west the last few years. It used to be a fairly rare find; now there are a number of places you can find it routinely. Unfortunately, it seems like it’s going to become very common along with the mourning dove and rock pigeon around here.
I also ran into a nice Wison’s Warbler, my first of the year, and a bird I thought was a funny looking house finch. No wonder it was funny looking, looking at the photos later it turned out to be a Pine Sisken, which turns out to be a life bird for me (technically. I’ve seen them in the past up in the san mateo hills but it never got registered into ebird…).
Pigeon point was dead, the best bird were the western gulls attempting to liberate lunch from a sea otter. Fitzgerald was wonderful, as usual. I hit it just about low tide so the tide pools were in full display, but being a weekend and Father’s day, it was heavily travelled so birds were pretty missing; western gulls, a couple of ravens, a black oystercatcher and a few cormorants (most double-crested from what I saw) summed it up. The harbor seal areas were busy but most of the seals were sleeping. The rangers were fairly busy shagging people who didn’t seem to think the “keep out” signs applied to them. In an “ewww, NEAT!” kinda way, the dead wolf eel (a good five feet, minus the chunk it lost about the time it became an ex Wolf Eel) was washed up on the shore. I didn’t see too much in the tidepools but it was fun working with the Sigma 180 macro a bit and it was even nicer getting out and getting some serious exercise on the beach and doing some off-path walking and starting t get comfortable with not falling down again…

A quick look at my ebird shows I’ve added six species to the life list this year: Golden-crowned Kinglet, Mountain Chickadee, Tropical Kingbird, Band-tailed Pigeon and now Pine Sisken, for a total of 245. Last year I added 20, but the larger you build your list, the harder it gets to add, especially if you aren’t doing a lot of travel. The current species list for California is 634 species, and 180 of those are seen less than five times a year. My year list stands at 172 species, which I’m pretty happy with. I’m a month ahead of last year (I didn’t hit 172 until late july). With migration done, I won’t see major shifts in the lists until september, depending on whether I go wandering around. I am headed to SoCal in July and I’m going to try to spend some time at Bolsa Chica while there (and overnighting in Morro Bay on the way back, hopefully with a day trip into Carrizo) — so we’ll see. that may get me a couple of terns onto the year list. Chasing birds (aka “twitching”) isn’t really my priority, but if I have some opportunities, I’ll see what happens. I’m well known as the person who the birds hear is coming and they leave the area just before I arrive, so birders really should get in and see them first.
One notable miss on the list this year is Indigo Bunting, given how many of them have wandered into the Bay Area, but having been on injured reserved, I haven’t gone chasing one. I really should…
I’m happy to say my arm and hand are pretty much 100% again and I finally convinced myself to get off my butt and go out and take some photos. I went out this week before work and spent some time down at the Palo Alto Baylands where the Night Herons are nesting and where we have a small set of Snowy Egrets trying to set up a rookery. This area’s been an egret rookery on and off for years and right now is off; the Great egrets have moved elsewhere (closer to Shoreline Lake, for instance) so overall this place is a bit on the quiet side. Well, as quiet as anything gets with egrets in the house.
It’s once again a weird year as far as timing. June is late in the season for both species from my experience. There are night herons in nests with almost full-grown, almost-ready-to-fledge chicks — and yet I’m also seeing herons running around building nests and staking out territory. My notes on this location show a fair amount of variability, but I’ve in the past noted chicks active in May and by the end of June the rookery is emptying out. Yet here, we have birds still trying to pair off and start nest building. Everything seems a month behind schedule, roughly. That agrees with our apricot tree, which is usually the first to fruit and usually done by now, but it had a nice crop that is just finishing up (our nectarine is so confused it said the hell with it and stopped trying…)
I haven’t photographed herons and egrets much recently, and I really can’t say why. they are some of my favorite birds, and around here are quite accessible.
Night herons tend to sit and stare back at you with a look I always interpret as “you aren’t going to eat me, right?” they always look vaguely worried and nervous. Egrets, on the other hand, were born grumpy, wake up grumpy and will die grumpy. Wonderfully animated and outgoing creatures. Great egrets are somewhat more — regal — but they’ve left this rookery for elsewhere the last couple of years.
Prime nesting places and materials are competed for. This heron fought off a couple of tries for his nest (and his wondeful female-attracting stick).
Most unusual bird of the morning, a single, late migrant cedar waxwing. These birds are almost always in flocks, and those flocks are well north or here by this time of year. This one’s on his way, but I was surprised to find him in the area in mid-June.
Welcome to issue #122 of I and the Bird. Today we’re going to visit with a number of birders and get a glimpse into the birds that they are keeping an eye on, from yellow-billed loons that make you twitch to sandhill cranes in your backyard to the birds that remind us that spring is here and that nesting season (and the joyous cacaphony of life that brings) is firing up.
Don’t forget to look out for the next issue of I and the Bird, coming to you April 15 thanks to the kind endeavours of the Idaho Birding Blog. If you didn’t contribute to this edition, you really should write up one of your birding adventures and share it with us through them!
But first, a quick editorial…. If it’s spring, it’s nesting season.
If it’s nesting season, it’s a good time for all of us to remember the potential impact our hobby can have on the birds and that we should be very sensitive to approaching a nest. Birds can abandon a nest if they feel threatened and we can significantly hinder their ability to successfully hatch and raise their young if we aren’t very careful about how we interact with the birds, we can cause the nest to fail.
Keep your distance, and don’t push it just to “get that shot”. If the bird has acknowledged you, you’re too close. If you flush a bird, you’re way too damn close and you really should just get out of there and leave them alone. Their successful nesting is more important than that photograph, and we as birders and bird photographers need to take our stewardship of the birds seriously. If you aren’t absolutely sure you aren’t too close, move back and give them more room. (no nests were annoyed in the creation of these photos…)
Now, onward and forward to I and the Bird!
My entry for I and the Bird is The Bird(ing) and Me. I never intended to become a birder. It just happened. You don’t need to be a birder to look at birds. You aren’t a birder because you carry binoculars. Birding is — ultimately — all about birds, but has nothing to do with birds. Birding is the community that surrounds looking at birds, not the activity of watching them.
Neil Gilbert at OCBirding.com talks about one of the classic challenges of the birder: To Twitch…Or Not? Neil got his bird, a Yellow-Billed Loon. I normally don’t twitch — but I considered going after the same bird, but didn’t, so I’m still waiting for my time with that loon.
Corey at 10,000 birds goes birding at Jamaica Bay with a few of his friends — and takes us along to enjoy it with him.
Andy Gibb at Twitching and Transformation talks about the recent changes to the IOC world list, and notes that his life list grew without his ever leaving his chair.
Speaking of lists, Nate at the Drinking Bird Blog does a nice piece in defense of the lister.
Melissa Cooper at Out Walking the Dog has been thinking about the impact and implications of feeding our wild (and urban “wild”) animals, and some of the issues it raises. Very interesting thinking and something to consider.
Dale Forbes, who happens to work for Swarovski in Austria, talks about the technical details of digiscoping and his digiscoping adventures in a trip to Africa and some of the birds and animals he saw there.
Rebecca of Rebecca in the Woods has a bit of an challenge. The good news is spring is back and the birds are nesting. The bad news is — the Carolina Wrens are nesting THERE?
Dave Alcock of DaveA’s Birding Blog brings us some gorgeous photos he took during an unexpected meeting with a Merlin.
Amber Coakley at Birder’s Lounge writes about the Great-Tailed Grackle in A Little Respect. I agree with her, they’re pretty birds that I enjoy watching — but bring earplugs.
Speaking of bringing earplugs, Puca at Anyone Seen My Focus brings us some nice images of one of my favorite birds, the Northern Mockingbird. And it must be spring, because the neighborhood mockingbirds have returned for another breeding season and kicked all of the Scrub Jays out of the area — that’s a turf way that’s been going on as long as we’ve lived here, and the Mockingbirds always seem to win. Our favorite mockingbird is back for another summer as well, the one we lovingly refer to as “Car Alarm”. Laurie says she’s heard one she swears is trying for “Anna’s Hummingbird”, but it’s not working. We’re worried it’s going to sprain it’s throat trying…
And it must be spring, when the birder’s thoughts turn to — the American Robin. Moe at Iowavoice.com brings us some nice images of this harbinger of spring for so many of us.
Tai Haku at Earth Wind and Water has a different sort of bird — some really amazing photos of a Snowy Owl, taken near him home — on an island in the Caribbean. When I saw “snowy”, for some reason I was thinking egret…
Jill Wussow at Count Your Chicken! We’re Taking Over! has some fun shots of what they think is a Glaucous-Winged x Herring gull hybrid who’s appetite is larger than it’s mouth as it attempts to swallow a starfish that doesn’t seem to want to be swallowed. Yes, it looks about as funny as you might expect. (and thank you, Jill, for admitting that I’m not the only person in the universe who looks at a flock of gulls and thinks to himself “I really should check it for rarities” but just can’t find huge amounts of enthusiasm over the idea….)
Joy at The Little House in the Not-So-Big Woods brings us this former-city-dwellers first vist by a barred own in Surrender Dorothy! There are Flying Monkeys Out There! I bet most of us have one of these WHAT THE HECK WHAT THAT? moments in our background…
Kay Baughman of the Arroyo Colorado Riverblog goes out birding and tells us to Go Fly a Kite. Or watch them…
Wren at Wrenaissance Reflections brings us a few pictures of some of her backyard birds, which just happen to be cranes. I’d kill for that view.
Larry Jordan at The Birder’s Report brings us close and personal with a pair of ospreys and their nest.
John Beetham at DC Birding Blog does a very nice review of the book Birds of Europe, 2nd Edition. I need to put that one on my wish list…
Don’t forget, when you bird, you can help the scientists studying birds to help us all understand them better. If you run into a banded bird, your sighting can help those studying those birds, so please consider reporting it. There’s a centralized banded bird reporting site available to make this easier, hosted by the USGS.
And finally, a free plug: when I visit Southern Cal to see my family, one of my favorite birding places is Bolsa Chica. they’ve just released the latest issue of their newsletter, the Tern Tide, which among other things talks about their new access bridge and urban coyotes. Well worth a read (and a visit!) (pointer via Amy at Wildbird on the Fly)
I never intended to become a birder. It just happened.
You don’t need to be a birder to look at birds. You aren’t a birder because you carry binoculars.
Birding is — ultimately — all about birds, but has nothing to do with birds. Birding is the community that surrounds looking at birds, not the activity of watching them.
It’s the people, and it’s the people involved in birding that made me a birder.
I felt it was time to acknowledge that, and say thanks.
My roots in watching birds go back a long way. I remember standing on a sand dune in Arcata, California, watching the brown pelicans dive fishing through a bait school and standing in awe and staring at these stunning birds in action. I have never tired of watching pelicans, as wandering through my flickr stream will attest.
I’ve always been attuned to water — I find being near the water, especially near the ocean to be calming and regenerative. When I’m tired, when I’m stressed, getting out near the water helps recharge the batteries, release the tension. Living here in the Bay Area I’m blessed. The ocean is a short drive away, and special places like Fitzgerald Marine Preserve in Moss Beach and Pigeon Point and Pescadero exist away from the crowds so even on fairly busy days you can get to places that aren’t exceptionally crowded.
Better yet is to discover places along the Bay itself; Much has been developed, but we’re making progress at pulling some of it back and making it more accessible, less urban. Areas around Alviso, around Mountain View, around Palo Alto, around Redwood Shores.
You see your first black skimmer, and you think to yourself How the hell does a bird like that fly? What committee designed that?
Curiousity wins. You buy binoculars to see better. You buy a guide. You buy another. You figure out that the brash little bird out in the wetlands is a Song Sparrow, and you feel that little tingle of pride. You don’t realize it yet, but you’re hooked.
By the mid 1990′s, a camera, a guide and binocs were standard equipment. I’m primarily photographing shorebirds (and pelicans) and trying to make sense of sandpipers (yes, I hear you all out there quietly laughing. I was naive. They STILL don’t make sense). Laurie and I are in northern Oregon on a trip, at a breakfast place near astoria. We have our binocs on the table, which attracts another couple into discussion. They’re heading off to Fort Stevens after black rails. I’m off looking for sandpipers. “Shorebirds are easy. You should be photographing warblers!” she tells me.
But I like shorebirds! and it’s an excuse to get near the ocean. But she piques my interest.
Little did I know the heaven and hell that conversation was going to open up.
Over time you see people out in the places you out in. Some of those people see the binocs and come up and introduce themselves. They point things out. They answer questions. You start recognizing faces and names. They start recognizing you, and wave and point at things. You discover the mailing lists and find out there are people running around pointing out lots of places and birds and things going on you never realized.
And somewhere along the way, you’ve turned into a birder. For me, it was May, 2006. I was getting more and more serious about my photography and more and more serious about my birdwatching. I decided to get out and trip away from the familiar places — go on a birding trip — and see how much I liked it. I did some research, and did a long weekend in Morro Bay.
I ended up in Sweet Springs in Los Osos. Walking through the wetlands and into the trees. It was migration, and there were warblers all over the place — damned if I had a clue which ones. Well, I do now; Townsend’s and Yellow-Rumps primarily. Suddenly a flash of orange and yellow and a bird sits up in the shadows. Madly thumbing through the guide, I realized it was a Western Tanager, a gorgeous male.
At that moment I started Keeping Lists and stopped birdwatching and started birding. I’ve never looked back.
My god, she was right. Warblers are fun to chase and photograph. So are the birds that skulk in bushes and flit in the canopy. They are also an endless source of wonderful frustration. I am not someone who tolerates adequacy in myself. If I choose to do something, I have to do it well. Birding is something you don’t get good at quickly, but you can always see the progress — and the next challenge. I have spent hours practicing with white-crowned sparrows how to see birds in bushes and get in position to get a real look at them. I’ve done the same with yellow-rumps in the canopies.
It’s only been the last six months or so where I really have started to feel like I’m good at this. I’ve been enthusiastic for a while — but enthusiasm isn’t a substitute for skill or knowledge. The hardest lesson to learn, and I think one of the most important, is when to back off and not force an ID into a situation where it’s not appropriate; when to just leave it at “a bird I wish I’d seen better”.
As a new birder, it’s all new, it’s all exotic, and your skills and knowledge are far outstripped by your naivete and enthusiasm. My work situation precluded doing many group outing where I could study from other birders, my nature tended to nudge me towards solo birding since I still saw the outings as a way to get away from everything and recharge and reflect. As such, the mailing lists and the online birding communities became my primary contact, my mentors, and as I made my inevitable mistakes they were my occasional audience for some rather enthusiastic pratfalls.
I didn’t become a birder because of the birds. I could have spent the rest of my life happily watching birds and taking photos of them without “birding”. I became a birder because of the people I found who were birders, and the community I found in birding. The last few years have been somewhat of an interesting time, in a chinese sort of way, and I found that birding because my retreat and sanctuary, and occasionally a thing I rallied my sanity around.
So I thought that, when the opportunity to host I and the Bird came up, that it was a great opportunity to talk not about birds, but about the birding community, and what it meant to me — and if you’ll indulge me a bit, to say thank you to a few people who deserve to be recognized.
If I mention nobody else, I have to mention Kris Olson. We lost Kris this year and that leaves a gaping hole in the local birding community. Kris was some of the glue that binded us together — she seemed everywhere. If a strange bird showed up somewhere, she’d appear to help chase it down and confirm it. She was a key driver in Sequoia audubon rebooting the county sighting lists. She was always there to answer a question or offer advice or suggest a place to visit, and with a smile and some gentle encouragement.
Then there are the senior birders, as I call them. Been doing this a long time, really know the region well, and are out there more or less every day surveying. They are the ones that know where to look and point out what’s there to be found, so the rest of us benefit by knowing where to look. In this area, people like Ron Thorn, Bill Bousman, Al Eisner, Bob Reiling, and Mike Mammoser not only help set the pace for most of the birders, I’ve found them all very willing to answer questions and offer advice (and occasionally kick my butt when my enthusiasm overreaches my skill), and if a report seems strange, they’re folks who’ll confirm it or suggest alternatives and help you get it right. I have been amazed on more than one occasion by Ron’s ability to ID a bird remotely via email better than I could seeing the bird in person.
You can’t pay these people back; they’d be insulted if you tried. So one of the things I’ve been thinking through is how I can contribute back into the community — to pay forward as a way of recognizing what I’ve gotten out of it.
So I’m going to close with a small call to action. Every one of us is an advocate and an ambassador to birding. Whenever we’re out there with binoculars around our necks or a scope on a tripod, our behavior reflects on the entire birdwatching community. If we act like jerks, birders will be seen as jerks — even if we merely act uninterested and aloof, we don’t make our community look good in the eyes of potential birders.
Every time we’re out on the trails or in the marshes there are opportunities for outreach. I’ve found there’s a lot of curious people out there, but many times they’re uncomfortable initiating discussion. When I notice that, I make a point of reaching out and trying to make them comfortable and see if I can answer questions. I’m not the worlds best birder — but I can show off a snowy egret or get a scope on a bluebird and show it off.
I’ve seriously considered having badges created that say “Yes, you can look!” and sew one onto my birding hat, so if I’m glued to the eyepiece, someone can see it and know it’s okay to ask. Anything to get them over that hump and get them engaged. I carry a “business” card with my personal info oriented towards my birding and my photos, and I hand it out a LOT and encourage people to email me if they have questions or want more info. A previous version of that card included a pointer to the signup page for the local birding list; the next version is going to point to a page on my web site that’ll include signup links for all of the regional birding lists as well as the regional Audubon event pages, to help encourage them to seek out a beginners walk or some other kind of activity.
It’s not about recruitment, it’s really just making a good impression and fostering curiousity. If we do that, then we’ll see people recruit themselves into the hobby, and the more people we get involved, the more good we can do for the birds, and isn’t that the point? All it costs is a smile and a hello and a willingness to spend a minute or two explaining or just letting someone look — and you get the benefit of rediscovering the joy of someone going OOH! when the see a great egret in breeding plumage show off. Me, I’m still someone who goos OOH! at that, may I never hit the point that becomes common to me…
And if you’re interested in a “Yes, please take a look!” badge, let me know. If there’s enough interest I’ll make them happen and get one to you…
Some thoughts on last weekend’s birding trip to the central valley, but more from a photography point of view….
When the winter birds arrive, it’s time for some special photography. Special and sometimes challenging. For me, the special winter bird is the Sandhill Crane, which winters in various locations along California’s central valley. We also get large numbers of geese, including Snow, Ross’s and the Greater White-Fronted as well as our dear friend, the Canada Goose (aka “Flying Pig”), as well as a few zillion ducks.
But it’s the Cranes that I find most fascinating and challenging to watch and to capture. This is my third winter photographing in the refuges in the central valley, and this is the first year I’ve really gotten photos of the Sandhill Cranes I like:
It was also the first opportunity I’ve had to get some really good shots of the greater white-fronted goose, because at Los Consumnes I ran into a small flock that was close to the trails and not overly freaked at having people nearby.
So by all accounts, the trip was a success. When I was at Merced I got some nice flock shots, but to date, getting up close and personal with Sandhill cranes has been a real challenge, especially since I’m only shooting at about 400mm (plus crop factor) and not someone who carries around one of the 500/600/800mm behemoths with me. Anyone who wants to donate a 500mm lens to the cause, feel free to drop me email…
What you don’t see if you browse through my flickr sets from the merced and lodi/galt trip is how many images got thrown away….
I ended up throwing out every image taken at Woodbridge Road and Isenberg Crane Refuge because they were flawed. Every damn one.
When you go through your day’s shoot, one part of the processing workflow is rejecting dings. All photographers have dings, and I’ve found as my eye has matured my percentage of dings actually goes up, because I’m fussier about what I keep than I used to.
When you’re editing your photos and tossing out the dings, do you ever sit down and analyze why they’re dings? understanding what’s failing helps you understand the weaknesses in your technology and technique, and through that learn how to improve yourself as a photographer. Photos aren’t “magically” bad, they’re bad for a reason, and a little analysis and introspection can help you understand how to make better pictures.
The first time I raelly sat down and analyzed my failures in detail instead of just tossing them was during a winter trip to Yosemite. Yosemite Falls had some interesting ice formations, and about every 20 minutes, chunks of ice would break loose and create an ice fall — I spent a wonderful couple of hours watching and shooting.
And 99% of the images were crap. unusable. Almost a “toss the camera in the river” moment, because I had no idea why, but I sat down and started going over the dings in detail looking for insight, but after about 30 minutes, I came to realize what I was seeing was camera shake — despite being locked down on a tripod like a good photographer does. It was one of the first times I’d done winter photography, and while I did most of it right, I neglected to use a remote shutter, and it was cold, so I was wearing gloves, which were thick enough that handling the camera and pushing the shutter button was causing me to bounce the camera around, causing motion blur; what finally caught my eye was that the blur was vertical — artifacts were in focus, but elongated.
I’m very good at using a remote shutter release now, and this is frankly one of those things where if you’re used to hand-holding a camera and shooting moving things, and you shift to tripod work shooting relatively static things (especially through ND filters for motion blur) you have to rethink your technique, because what makes it possible to freeze a goose in mid-air also protects you from motion blur and camera shake by freezing the motion of the camera; with really slow (10-30 second) exposures minor shake issues tend to disappear as well, but when you get in that middle ground around 1/4 second, it can be brutal. And the first time it bites you, it’s probably going to be a big surprise…
And that’s part of what happened to me last weekend. I made a couple of mistakes in my technique, both of them quite avoidable. The first was immediately obvious on edit: it was brutally cold (36 degrees) on site when I got there, and what was I doing? Driving around in my nice warm car with the heater turned up, rolling down the window and doing the car-blind thing taking photos of sandhill cranes, through a lens that immediately dewed up with condensed moisture when the nice cold air hit it from outside. oops.
My other problem? It was early morning, heavily overcast (and cold). I’m shooting at 400ISO, about as fast as I want to push the 30D, and I’m shooting my 300F4 plus a 1.4x, for 420 F5.6 before crop factor. And in the low light, I’m seeing shutter speeds of 1/250 to 1/400. It’s going to be tough getting really sharp images at that speed handholding that lens under the best of circumstances, and in this case, I was sitting in a running car, meaning the entire foundation of my shot was vibrating underneath me, and I was facing forward and shooting out the passenger window, meaning my ability to stabilize the lens was lousy. Bad shooting hygiene on a number of levels.
My worst mistake here? Not reviewing the early shots and catching the mistakes in the field. That’s why tools like the HoodLoupe exist and why I carry one in the bag with me. You can chimp this problem in the LCD, but I find it much better to use the loupe to get a good view of an image without glare. Only in this case, I just chimped and missed the problems until I got home.
In retrospect, pushing to ISO 800 and accepting a bit more noise would have helped, but being more careful about holding the lens, or being more persistant about shifting the shot to the driver side and using a beanbag on the doorframe would have helped a LOT. As would have being less interested in warm than good photography. And in this case, I forgot my gloves and was wearing a jacket that wasn’t heavy enough for the weather — don’t neglect the details of comfort, because they can make or break a trip; and the condensation issue would have gone away if I wasn’t trying to keep from freezing my fingers off between shots…
These are all learning tools if you choose to make them so. Was the trip a failure? Far from it; I did get some nice shots of the cranes, and I got some really good shots of the geese, and even if i wish I’d gotten more (and better) shots, there’s always next time. And now I have a better feel for what I need to do to shoot well in those kind of field situations.
And that’s never a bad thing; and there’s always next trip.
I spent sunday out in the Lodi/Galt area birding and doing photography in the geese and crane preserves. The morning started at 5AM and I was on the road by 5:30. The original idea was to go over Mount Hamilton into Anderson Valley and pop out via Mines road, but the temperature (< 40 degrees in Santa Clara) made me worry about icing and I decided that was putting a bit too much into one day (I was right), so I drove straight to Woodbridge and arrived before 8 to 35 degree weather and a brisk, sustained wind (memo to self. gloves would have been nice).
There were good numbers of Sandhill Cranes in the fields around the preserve. The Isenberg preserve itself was fairly quiet but you could see flights of cranes, canada geese, greater white-fronted and some snow geese moving about. I tried doing some count estimating, the flocks won. (one. two. three. many….) Highlight birds along Woodbridge were the Tundra Swans and a surprising number of Belted Kingfishers each patrolling a different part of the irrigation channel long the road; I counted at least four, possibly five, all of them annoyed at my presence. Also notable was the only other pair of birders out in that weather sitting on the side of the road watching the flocks fly out.
After that I rolled into Lodi for a coffee (and a bathroom; thanks, Lodi starbucks) then went off to Staten Island arriving about 11. it was quite slow, about 100 cranes, a couple of small flocks of canada geese, a few raptors some shovelers. I didn’t stay long, and headed off to Consumnes. It was cold and windy with a sustained breeze; the ducks were primarily looking for bushes to hide behind and under. I parked down in the 2ndary parking lot and walked the wetlands boardwalk and other than a pair of stalwart birders from san mateo county, there wasn’t a lot going on. you could hear a good number of cranes in the area, but there were only two small flocks at distance, and a few larger flocks (about 100 total) of the greater white-fronted.
I ended up walking the tree path up to the main visitor center and then exploring most of the riverwalk path. Along the way the sun finally broke through and it warmed up. The trees had a number of nice birds, a female downy chowing down on a seed pod, multiple ruby-crowned kinglets, a few yellow rumps, northern flickers…. It actually turned into a rather pleasant hike. Riverwalk wasn’t too birdy, but I heard two distinct kingfishers and another flicker on the river past the bridge back to the parking lot. Once I was done with that, I took the path back to the road and along the wetlands back to the parking lot and my car, chasing out some pipits and a rather cooperative loggerhead shrike. Actually two, because when the one I was watching called and flew off, it was answered by an identical call somewhere behind me.
Because I was curious how they’d work, I had brought my 25×100 binoculars (designed for astronomy use); they did both an awesome job of pulling in the distant areas of the wetlands and creating a crowd; their downside is they require a sherpa or a small forklift but they definitely seem useful for a place like Consumnes. I’ll have to try them on a seawatch some day. A couple of ten year olds were pestering mom for a pair when I packed up…
By that time the storm (3PM) was moving in and it didn’t seem like there was much promise for interesting photography of the sunset and/or fly-ins (things like http://www.flickr.com/photos/chuqui/4160779567/ or http://www.flickr.com/photos/chuqui/4161547268). I headed back to Isenberg to see if it was more promising; the sprinkles started when I got there (about 3:30) and it seemed the birds had mostly flown in early and were hunkered down. By that time the fields were loaded, and there were a large number of snow geese as well, which had been mostly missing in the morning, and I still don’t feel comfortable with my count estimates, but “hundreds” of cranes, “a thousand+” snow geese and “zillions” of canada geese, with greater white-fronted being “more than cranes, less than canada geese”. Some scanning the flocks for Ross’s and cackling didn’t turn any up, but that’s more speaking to the birder than the birds. With the rain moving in and the light failing, I called it and headed home.
I didn’t see anything exceptionally rare or unusual, but it was a fun day (long and cold and windy, but fun)…
Location: Woodbridge Ecological Reserve (Isenberg Crane Reserve)
Observation date: 12/6/09
Number of species: 35
Greater White-fronted Goose X
Snow Goose X
Canada Goose X
Tundra Swan 12
Gadwall X
American Wigeon X
Mallard X
Cinnamon Teal X
Northern Shoveler X
Northern Pintail X
Green-winged Teal X
Bufflehead X
Great Blue Heron 1
Great Egret 3
Snowy Egret 6
Turkey Vulture 2
Northern Harrier 3
Red-tailed Hawk 4
American Kestrel 2
American Coot X
Sandhill Crane 600
Killdeer X
Black-necked Stilt X
peep sp. X
Mourning Dove X
Belted Kingfisher 4
Northern Flicker (Red-shafted) 1
Black Phoebe 2
Western Scrub-Jay X
American Crow X
Common Raven 2
Northern Mockingbird X
European Starling X
American Pipit X
Red-winged Blackbird X
Western Meadowlark X
Location: Consumnes River Preseve
Observation date: 12/6/09
Number of species: 44
Greater White-fronted Goose X
Canada Goose X
Gadwall X
American Wigeon X
Mallard X
Cinnamon Teal X
Northern Shoveler X
Northern Pintail X
Green-winged Teal X
Ring-necked Duck X
Greater/Lesser Scaup X
Bufflehead X
Common Goldeneye X
Pied-billed Grebe X
Great Egret X
Snowy Egret X
Turkey Vulture X
Northern Harrier X
Red-tailed Hawk X
American Kestrel X
American Coot X
Sandhill Crane X
Killdeer X
Black-necked Stilt X
gull sp. X
Belted Kingfisher 2
Downy Woodpecker 1
Northern Flicker 1
Black Phoebe 4
Say’s Phoebe 1
Loggerhead Shrike 2
Western Scrub-Jay X
American Crow X
Bushtit X
Marsh Wren 4
Ruby-crowned Kinglet 5
Northern Mockingbird X
European Starling X
American Pipit X
Yellow-rumped Warbler X
Common Yellowthroat 1
Savannah Sparrow X
Dark-eyed Junco X
Red-winged Blackbird X
House Finch X
House Sparrow X
Location: Staten Island
Observation date: 12/6/09
Number of species: 18
Greater White-fronted Goose X
Canada Goose X
Mallard X
Northern Shoveler X
Great Egret 1
Turkey Vulture 1
Northern Harrier 2
Red-tailed Hawk 2
American Kestrel 2
American Coot X
Sandhill Crane 125
Killdeer X
Least Sandpiper X
Mourning Dove X
Black Phoebe 1
American Crow X
American Pipit X
Red-winged Blackbird X
This report was generated automatically by eBird v2(http://ebird.org)
I was tickled when I got the notification that this shot was chosen as the picture of the week this week and is being shown on the front page over at the Cornell Ornithology Lab’s All About Birds web site.
It’s a picture I really love and it’s on a site I have great respect for because of the work they’re doing to not just inform birdwatchers but to expand the body of knowledge on birds as well.
All in all, I’m just thrilled.
For those curious, the shot was made using my 30D and the 100-400 IS lens, handheld, over in mountain view near the Adobe Creek area off of terminal road. The swallows nest under the roof of a building housing a pumping station, and I noticed this one nest was seeing regular flights in and out as mom was feeding a couple of young. I stood off about 20 yards away and tried to time her exit — she would normally pop her head out just a bit to look, then drop out of the hole and then spread the wings and accelerate — think aircraft carrier launch.
It ended up taking 45 minutes and 300 images to get the timing just right (i.e., I finally “got lucky” — luck being a combination of some planning, a lot of patience and the high speed shutter on the 30D and a bunch of thumb mashing on the shutter button….).
Just to the side of this nest was another with three really cute chicks:
well, cute in a “I’m pissed off” kinda way. they seem to be practicing their egret imitations. Their mom was also repeatedly coming in and feeding, and otherwise they just hung out and watched. At least they have a view instead of a door that opens down.
Oh my god! He’s got CRANBERRIES!
(a happy thanksgiving to everyone n the U.S… don’t pig out too badly)
This seems to come up about once a year among the birders — bad behavior by a bird phoographer. I wrote up my thoughts on this, since I live in all three worlds (birder, photographer of birds, and list admin to both), and decided I’d turn it into a blog post so I can point to it next time this comes up.
The reality is this: bad behavior is bad behavior, and I’ve seen bad behavior by both birders and photographers. I’ve turned birders into the rangers for going off trail. I’ve also done the same with photographers. My favorite “what are you THINKING moment” here was a photog up on the bluffs above Fitzgerald out in Moss Beach, where they went over the fence and ten feet DOWN the bluff to take a picture of a flower.
If you’ve been in that area, you know why I just stood and watched until he came back up safely. Did I mention it to him? no. Why? I’ve found people like this rarely are interested in constructive feedback (and I’m not always in a mood to be constructive!), and honestly, I have no authority. But I do have no qualms about reporting people to rangers and letting them deal with it. Note that since I have a camera, the ranger has evidence of the act, and on more than one occasion has chatted with the person back in the parking lot…
The biggest problem I think both birders and bird photographers run into these days are off-leash dogs and their owners. That one’s a real tough issue. I don’t consider “off leash” to be a problem per-se, but many dogs are a lot less under control than the owner wants to believe, and many of these dogs are being allow to chase birds in restricted habitats. We won’t even go into the ones that don’t bother cleaning up after their animals…
Of course, the core problem here is that as a society, many people feel the rules don’t apply to them, and don’t care as long as they don’t get caught. Or don’t care even if they do get caught, given the abusive reaction some of them have to the rangers and cops who call them on it.. It’s the “what I want is the only thing that matters” mentality. Fortunately, this is really rare in birding circles — just not rare enough.
Here is the scenario: birders chase a reported rarity and congregate to see it once the word gets out. Many photographers are also birders but carry with them digital cameras, big lenses and the desire to get photos. As birders like to accumulate birds on their lists, photographers like to accumulate photos. Nothing wrong with either on the surface. The issues are politeness around other people, and potential disturbance to the bird. If the result is scaring off the bird then others won’t have the opportunity to see it
It goes both ways here. I’ve had situations where I’ve been working a location for a significant period of time, camera on tripod, keeping quiet and letting a specific posture or behavior develop, only to have a birder come tromping up through the brush making enough noise to flush every bird in the time zone. I’ve had them walk up and proceed to stand directly behind the tree in my camera view, ruining the shot. I’ve had them come up and stand directly in front of me — usually oblivious, but occasionally they just don’t care what anyone else thinks.
I had one birder who, after coming up to check out the bird I was trying to photograph, consciously flush the birds when he was done — and smirk at me on the way out. He’s lucky I valued my tripod more than I valued beating some sense into him.
There are bad photographers. There are bad birders. The focus should be on bad behavior, not on one class of person or the other.
I live with feet in all three buckets here: birder, bird photographer, and list owner. There ARE huge differences in behavior and attitude between birding and photographing birds, and they can conflict. 99% of the time, though, if the birders and the photographers just work at it and communicate, everyone can be happy. On lists, it’s important to set ground rules and understand what the primary reason the list exists — and then discourage users that don’t work within that.
In the field, it comes down to cooperation and communication. Someone who gets on a bird first should be given the opportunity to watch it without it being flushed; people who come in later need to hang back and have some patience rather than plow in and ruin it for everyone by flushing a bird. On the other hand — the person doing the watching needs to be sensitive to others who are waiting for them and bring them in as soon as they reasonably can and “not be greedy”.
Note that I specifically leave the camera out of this, either group could be the camera person and either group be the birder. Birders fixed on a bird and oblivious to all around them are fairly common, you don’t need a camera to tune out the universe. A few people skills work for both groups.
Now, on the list, it can be trickier. I’ll be the first to admit I love passing around good shots of what I’ve seen. On a birding-centric list like SBB, there’s some tolerance for that, but it’s easy to overdo it. My PERSONAL policy for dealing with this is this: the birds have to be local to the group; they have to be timely; I post links to rarities or to one or two representative photos and beyond that suggest they look at my flickr for the rest. I try to be sensitive to the fact that the list is about birding, and the photography is documentary to the birding, not the reason for the list, so I try to keep it relevant and subdued. For other birding centric lists, setting written policies that spell that out will reduce the fighting that can happen ON list. (as someone who sometimes has to break up these disagreements on SBB, I’ve tried to set an example and hold myself to a conservative standard. I sometimes fail, but I’m learning…)
It might be worth hashing it out a bit on list, or polling the members and asking them to comment privately, and then set a policy based on that feedback. If it’s a small problem, grabbing a consensus and formalizing it will keep it small, and help everyone understand what’s acceptable. Not having a policy is where trouble lies, because members get upset and start defining policy on the fly, and the fights over who’s setting policy tend to be a lot worse than the fight that led to the meta-fight…
What I’d suggest is focussing on the bad behavior, not on whether it’s birders vs. bird photographers. Like Steve, I have no problem removing someone from a list if they are found to be chronic abusers of the environment or their fellow birders. Fortunately, I haven’t had to. Unfortunately, the last three cases I can think (on various lists I’m on) of where abuse issues have come up have all involved photographers, but four of the last five times I’ve had conflicts in the field have been by birders, not photographers; I think the camera geeks get noted because there’s a perception (not completely false) that “they aren’t birders” — actually we’re many times both.
As list owner I have NO control whatsoever when it comes to stupidity or bad behavior out in the field, a
Actually, to some degree you do. You have the power of expulsion from the list, and you have the power of public chastisement and censure. Neither of which should be used trivially, but sometimes, it can be considered (and threatened). Just as a thought. Now with a list like SBB, which is informally but tightly tied to the county Audubon, I wouldn’t consider doing something like that without consulting with them.
And sometimes that’s the best option; many times these people are known within the birding and/or photo groups. and many times, if you ask the right person, someone who knows them well will take them aside and “have a little talk”. And “things get fixed” without there ever being any formal action or fight. So it’s never bad to spend time learning who the various people are and knowing who you can bring in if you need advice or — a little help with something. getting the right thought in the right ear is sometimes the best way to take a little thing and keeping it from festering and becoming a big one. Especially if the problem is one of naivete or obliviousness. Nothing is going to solve those smirks, though, except a tripod to the temple… but I’d hate to dent a good tripod…
chuq
It’s fall, and the Cranes and Geese are returning to California for the winter. This weekend is the Lodi Crane Festival, which if you’re at all curious about this birdwatching stuff would be a great way to get introduced to birding and these gorgeous birds. There seems to be a lot of activity already at Isenberg Crane Refuge, but my favorites are Merced National Wildlife Refuge and Los Consumnes (near Galt). Sunset (above) is a great time because some of the birds will scatter into the area agricultural lands to forage for the day, and then all fly back into the refuge as the light wanes and watching flock after flock come in can be magical.
Dawn, however, can be even more magical (just not as convenient) — as the birds wake up the noise is indescribable, and then these huge waves take up and circle the area and head off for the day.
And sometimes you see things you never forget, such as when tens of thousands of birds all suddenly take to the air:
That’s one of my favorite birding moments so far — a peregrine flushed a flock of shorebirds, which panicked (that’s the darkish streak middle left), and they panicked flocks of sandhill cranes and snow geese. That photo contains literally tens of thousands of birds (and one predator), and flocks like that can darken the sky as they fly over you.
Laurie and I usually like to hit Merced NWR thanksgiving weekend. I won’t be at Lodi this year (I’m hoping to get to the Morro birding festival in january, though) but I’m trying to decide when a good weekend to go up and do a sunrise/sunset “really long but fun” day up in the Sacramento area around Isenberg, Consumnes and some of the agricultural areas where the birds hang out. We’ll normally try to hit up Merced 3-4 times between now and February when the action fades….
(and that’s why I wear a hat while birding…. )
(hat tip: Audublog)