Naturography: wildlife

Showing posts with label wildlife. Show all posts

Sunday, November 22, 2009

Red-Tailed Hawk Photo Shoot Walkthrough

My blog has moved from Blogger to my own domain.

The Naturography Blog can now be found at http://naturography.com

This blog post can now be found at http://naturography.com/red-tailed-hawk-photo-shoot-walkthrough/

Thank you for your interest.

Thursday, November 5, 2009

Infinite Possibilities, Part 4

My blog has moved from Blogger to my own domain.

The Naturography Blog can now be found at http://naturography.com

This blog post can now be found at http://naturography.com/infinite-possibilities-part-4/

Thank you for your interest.

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

Infinite Possibilities, Part 3

Friday, October 30, 2009

Infinite Possibilities, Part 2

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

Imagination and Ambition

My blog has moved from Blogger to my own domain.

The Naturography Blog can now be found at http://naturography.com

This blog post can now be found at http://naturography.com/imagination-and-ambition/

Thank you for your interest.

Sunday, October 18, 2009

Tools of the Trade

My blog has moved from Blogger to my own domain.

The Naturography Blog can now be found at http://naturography.com

This blog post can now be found at http://naturography.com/tools-of-the-trade/

Thank you for your interest.

Saturday, October 17, 2009

Great Egret and Chicks

Since several people have requested for me to discuss the stories behind making my pictures, here it is for Great Egret and Chicks.

Every year, many dozens of snowy egrets and black crowned night herons, and a handful of great egrets, come around the beginning of March to nest in the palm trees by the duck pond at Palo Alto Baylands (previously the Palo Alto Yacht Harbor). Usually the birds nest in the thick of the trees, where views and photography are blocked by palm fronds. This particular great egret nest was positioned so as to be more accessibly viewed than all the others, with only one frond blocking the nest from view. By standing back far enough, and getting up high enough, it was possible to achieve a mostly clear view of the nest behind the frond.

In early Summer of 2005, the mating pair of egrets which resided upon this nest, having already successfully raised one pair of chicks, had a second clutch of three chicks. By early July, the chicks were big enough to stick their heads above the nest, and mature enough to become more active toward their parents and each other. At this point, I came as often as I could, so as not to miss the spectacle. I'd get up early in the morning, put on my Kinesis pack with my 1,200 mm set-up inside (Canon EOS 1Ds Mark 2, with a Canon 600 mm f/4 IS L lens and a Canon 2x teleconverter), carry my eight foot tripod (Bogen 3051) in one hand and a large footstool in the other, and make the short trek to the nest. I'd set up as far back as I could, with the footstool right up against the eroding muddy edge where the land dropped off into the marsh, behind me. Then I'd extend my tripod to its tallest setting, and mount my camera and lens. Once set up, I'd stand on my tip-toes on the footstool, press my eye to the viewfinder, rest one arm along the top of the lens, and wait for the right moment.

For the right moment to happen, several factors had to come together. There was often morning fog, and – for the shot to work – first the morning fog had to burn off. This could happen anywhere from early morning to mid-afternoon. But, due to the direction of the clearing for viewing the nest, it was only possible to get the shots I sought before noon. After that, the nest was in shadow, with harsh backlighting streaking through the palm fronds. If the sun came out early enough, and the wind didn't sway the nest (or my giant lens) too much, then – in order to get the picture I sought – I'd also need the egrets to be active. Most of the time, the chicks napped, while one parent stood guard, and the other parent was out hunting and fishing. When one parent would come back from the hunt, the other would immediately take off; meanwhile, the chicks would wake up, demand food, and be fed (in a surprisingly brief instant).

When everything came together as I liked, I took this picture of the chicks demanding food from the newly arrived parent.

Thanks for visiting.

Great Egret and Chicks (Ardea alba), Palo Alto Baylands, California

All pictures and text are © Mike Spinak, unless otherwise noted. All pictures shown are available for purchase as fine art prints, and are available for licensed stock use. Telephone: (831) 325-6917.

Saturday, September 26, 2009

First Snow, Yosemite Valley

It's been suggested that readers would enjoy hearing the stories behind the pictures. So, here's the story behind my picture, First Snow, Yosemite Valley.

In Autumn of 2003, I came to Yosemite Valley to photograph the Fall foliage and then the ice formations at the start of Winter. At first, the weather was unseasonably warm and dry. The daytime temperatures were in the upper 80s Fahrenheit, and even the overnight lows were warm enough for comfortably walking around without a jacket. The earth was parched, and the sky was thick with the yellow haze of dust and campfire smoke.

Then, on the evening of Halloween, the weather changed in an instant. The haze disappeared, a chill wind blew, and billowing clouds, rose colored in the day's last rays, piled up high on the edge of the sky. The next morning, the world was white with an eight inch thick cover of snow.

I was out photographing before dawn, excited to shoot as much as possible, before it all melted and disappeared. (In patches, it had melted entirely by mid-afternoon.) I chose to take a picture which emphasized the meadow's leaning grasses, laden with sticky, granular snow, because this shows the unique character of a first snowfall of Autumn. The snow would melt away, then fall anew, several times more, before it finally heaped into a blanket that remained for the season – but the grasses would already be entirely crushed flat before the next snow fell, irreversibly changed until next year's new growth. In this way, the picture shows a brief slice of time, and hints at the many special ways that only the first snowfall transforms the land.

While towering granite cliffs are iconic of the Yosemite Valley, they are mostly excluded from the picture, to focus on a more intimate sense of the changing of the seasons. After a little while waiting for the fog to rise a bit, the rising fog outlined the trees and obscured the granite valley walls, and gave a sense of the seasonal weather and evanescence.

Photographed with a Canon EOS 1Ds, and a Canon 24-70 mm f/2.8 lens.

If you enjoy reading the stories behind the pictures, and would like more, please let me know. If you'd rather I stick to other topics, instead, I'd like to hear that, too.

Thank you, Rhonda Harrison Cole, for suggesting posting about the stories behind the pictures.

First Snow, Yosemite Valley

Thursday, September 24, 2009

The Allure of the Intertidal Zone

My blog has moved from Blogger to my own domain.

The Naturography Blog can now be found at http://naturography.com

This blog post can now be found at http://naturography.com/?p=197

Thank you for your interest.

Sunday, September 6, 2009

Obtaining Maximum Sharpness, Part 3

Saturday, September 5, 2009

Obtaining Maximum Sharpness, Part 2

Friday, September 4, 2009

Obtaining Maximum Sharpness, Part 1

Monday, August 11, 2008

Close Up Lens Considerations, Part 1

Brown Pelicans at the Capitola Wharf

Yesterday was a perfect example of one of the many reasons I love being a nature photographer. I say this, not because of coming back with nice pictures, but because of the experience of being there.

There were bird reports that a very large school of sardines had come in, right under the Capitola Wharf, and had brought in 3,000 (!) brown pelicans, along with many cormorants, and had even brought the murres in from the open water.

It was all true. I'm not a skilled bird counter, but 3,000 pelicans seemed like it might even have been a conservative guess. There were a lot of pelicans. I've lived most of my life near the seashore, and I've seen a lot of pelicans, before, but never anything like this. They were like a cloud of giant, ancient birds around the wharf, almost darkening the sky. They were so dense that it took special effort to get unobstructed photos of individuals.

The feeling of the abundance of life all around was palpable. It was majestic and astonishing.

By the way, the brown pelican picture, above, was not from yesterday; I haven't yet had an opportunity to deal with those shots and get them online. I'll try to do so, soon.

Thanks for reading.

Brown Pelican in Flight, #2

All pictures and text are © Mike Spinak, unless otherwise noted. All pictures shown are available for purchase as fine art prints, and are available for licensed stock use. Telephone: (831) 325-6917.

Sunday, August 10, 2008

Professional Nature Photography: The Price of Admission, Part 3

Professional Nature Photography: The Price of Admission, Part 2

Saturday, August 9, 2008

Professional Nature Photography: the Price of Admission, Part 1

Friday, August 8, 2008

Seeing the Light: Part 1

There's a lot more to say about seeing light, and I'm later going to seemingly contradict what I say, here. But that will have to wait.

Have a good day.

First Light, Mono Lake

All pictures and text are © Mike Spinak, unless otherwise noted. All pictures shown are available for purchase as fine art prints, and are available for licensed stock use. Telephone: (831) 325-6917.