In every genre of photography, there seems to be a lesson that must be learned in order to get good photos more easily. For example, portrait photographers often talk about developing a rapport with their subjects, and from own experience with portraits, I do think that’s true. But what about bird photography? I think the lesson here should be: Every bird has a secret.
What is the Secret?
By secret, I mean something about the behavior of a species that may not be immediately apparent, but once known, makes it much easier to capture the photo you want of that species. Let’s take an easy example: Red-winged Blackbirds! Right now, if you asked me to go out and take a photo of a Red-winged Blackbird, could I do it? Yes I could. But would it be good? Well, maybe not! That’s because Red-winged Blackbirds are shy now. They tend to stay in the background, wary of calling too much attention to themselves at this time of year.
On the other hand, in the spring, especially in late April to May, they are aggressively defining territories and singing on any tall reed they can find, not caring one way or another whether you’re sitting nearby. That’s their secret! In the spring, I can take dozens of decent photos of Red-winged Blackbirds and have a high chance of success. Now? I wouldn’t count on it.
Sometimes, it’s true, you can be lucky and just get “the shot” without knowing much about a bird. But if I look back at my favorite photos, pretty much all of them came from stumbling upon that bird’s secret. That was true of the Bat Falcon in the Atlantic Forest of Brazil. Its secret was relatively simple: it has a strong preference for one tree. Luckily, the people who worked at the local ecological reserve told me that one. Could I have found the bird elsewhere? Maybe so, because it hunts around the area, but the chances would have been much worse.
Anyway, how can you discover a bird’s secret? The first thing that comes to mind is… habitat! Even very common birds have habitats they prefer over others. Take gulls. Pretty much everyone has seen a gull. But a few years back I discovered that they have a special preference for ephemeral ponds of meltwater on beaches. Although you can get a photo of a gull almost anywhere, I waited near these ponds near sunset in order to capture the bird with golden light.
Also, when I talk about habitat, I’m not just talking about coarse habitats like “grassland” or “dense forest.” Birds seem to develop persistent preferences for one part of a place over another, even if to our eyes, the habitat all pretty much looks the same. And that brings me to my most recent encounter: the rather difficult Savannah Sparrow.
Actually, I first saw the Savannah Sparrow about four years ago, but I never got a decent shot of it. In recent months, however, I’ve been noticing a large number of them in the park. In fact, I can spot four or five almost every time I go out.
My hopes for capturing a good photo of the Savannah Sparrow began to increase, but still, I felt I hadn’t discovered this bird’s secret. What was it? The location and habitat seemed correct, but the birds kept flying away and landing in tangled areas that led to excessively busy photos. But then, I noticed something.
In certain parts of the open grassland, the Savannah Sparrows seemed to like landing on the tops of thistles and other smaller plants, rapidly going from one thistle to the next. Maybe that was their secret – I could photograph them if I approached these thistles slowly, making myself look smaller, and waiting for the bird to land on the right one.
So, I used a technique that often works when approaching birds near the ground: walking on your knees in order to keep your profile low. True, the ground was wet and soaking. And what about the mosquitoes? It had just rained, and an enormous swarm was hunting me just as I was hunting my Sparrow. Doesn’t matter. I started walking on my knees in the dirt toward the thistles, getting soaked. But… the birds didn’t seem to notice me. So, I mentally told myself, “I’m going to get bitten about twenty times now” and started shooting.
Suffice it to say, I got the first photo of a Savannah Sparrow that I like. Not only that, but I proved yet again that getting covered in mud is sometimes a good thing.
Conclusion
When you start out bird photography, you might think it’s all the same – birds land on things or fly around, and you press the shutter when you see them. But actually, a large part of bird photography really is getting to know each species. If you aren’t getting the sorts of shots you’re after of a bird, it may just be that you haven’t yet found out its secret. So go out there, and find out what that bird is hiding! (Hopefully, without getting bit by several mosquitoes.)
