Knowing My Limitations, Not Knowing My Snipes and Common Bonds

I admit that I am not a "birder." I can't rattle off the names of every bird I see or hear like some people I have met over the past few years. But, I do love observing birds and all other kinds of wildlife in their natural habitat. I even manage to capture an image or two. The longest lens I have is a 300mm f/2.8. And, when outfitted with a 1.4x teleconverter, it gives some reach. But, I have found not near enough for serious bird photography. I may get lucky and get close enough from time to time for a nice detailed image but I can't routinely come home with frame-filling images of birds. I'm not complaining. It's not lens envy or lust. Is it frustrating sometimes? Oh sure. But there is no sense in complaining about the limits of your equipment. I still find ways to come home with images that satisfy me, bring joy to others and make for good wall art, cards, etc. In a previous post I talked about adapting to what the moment gives you, in this case you adapt to what your equipment gives you. Aside from knowing the environment and the habits of the particular species in your area, some things I have found that work for me are focusing on birds that are less skittish around people (and therefore are more likely to remain closer to you)

incorporate the scenery in images of birds that you can't "grab" in close,

and panning techniques.

Back to not being a "birder." I have met plenty of "birders" over the past few years and have found that they are some of the nicest people you will ever meet. Just like most photographers are willing to share their knowledge of photography to others, birders share their knowledge of birds just as willingly. Through conversations with birders I have learned to recognize by sight and/or sound some of the birds local to my area of Virginia. I find this useful and just plain fun-to-know information.

A couple weekends ago I was out at Huntley Meadows, a watershed that is popular among birders and photographers alike. The park has a boardwalk that stretches through and over the the marsh. It doesn't get you exactly in the middle of things but you are able to get closer than if you were marooned on the shoreline. It's a great experience actually. When the cattails are fully mature, they are so tall it's very similar to walking through a maze until you reach the outer portion of the boardwalk opening up to a full vision of the wetland and all it has to offer.

It wasn't particularly early, around 8AM and a gentleman (a birder no doubt) making his way around the boardwalk noticed me and my camera focused on some birds out in the water. He walked up and mentioned to me that there were four snipes a little distance away and he pointed towards the far end of the boardwalk. His clue was that they were nesting in a green clump of grass that was between two dry clumps of grass. Well, first of all, I wasn't sure what a snipe was other than being pretty sure it was a bird. I wouldn't recognize one. Second, if you have ever been to a wetland at the beginning of spring, then you know they are full of green and dry clumps of grass. Lastly, I wasn't sure if I was supposed to be gathering up my gear and making a beeline over to the "clumps" to capture this, for all I knew, rare, never-captured-on-film (or sensor)-before bird. We ended up talking for a few minutes about the area and how spring is on its way, observed a couple turtles and ducks making their way by in the water. I remained for a few minutes and then decided to make my over to the vicinity of the clumps.

It turns out that this "rumor" about the snipes and the clumps was spreading and there were several birders already looking for them. Someone mentioned that they had seen snipes in the park before so my vision (delusion possibly) of capturing an image and being published in wildlife magazines the world over was pretty much out of the question. We found something in the distance jumping around in the water but none of us had enough lens or binocular to make out exactly what it was. Something was out there but we had no clue. We spent several long minutes thinking "this is it, the snipes!" Another birder, acting on the same information from the same gentleman as us came on the scene with a very sweet spotting scope. We were trying to direct him to the right location of the movement. He couldn't get zeroed in. I used his scope to pinpoint the location and it turned out to be four rather large bullfrogs having fun in the mud. After a few chuckles, we continued looking around and then everyone moved on. No snipes!

I ended up having a conversation with the guy who had the nice spotting scope. He's obviously a dedicated birder. It turns out he's a professional photographer with the Department of Defense. Imagine that, he's out there watching birds with a spotting scope and no camera to speak of. I guess when you shoot professionally all week long the last thing you want to do is shoot all weekend long, too. I've noticed that it seems more important to birders that they document in their log each bird sighting and any other form of documentation (such as images) is mostly irrelevant. This may not be true for all birders, but the great majority that I come in contact with carry nary a point and shoot. This guy also recently spent two weeks of his own time in Arkansas (on his own without a guide or a search group) searching for the elusive, thought to be extinct, Ivory-Billed Woodpecker. There was a report a few years back of a sighting in Arkansas. Bobby Harrison is one of two men who reported this sighting. He's a professor and an award-winning nature photographer. He formed a foundation dedicated to the search and rediscovery of this bird. Unfortunately, the local birder/pro photographer came up empty on his search.

Be it birders or photographers, it's interesting how we will spend an inordinate amount of time chasing light, elusive wildlife, and other subjects, often coming up empty. But, we are back the next day, the next week or the next month eagerly searching. No complaints.