The Right Time, the Wrong Place: A Story of Wildlife Photography

You might be smiling ironically right now, thinking those words – “the right time, the wrong place” – sum up a misadventure you’ve had as a wildlife photographer. And because I know that shared misery is half the misery, let me reassure you with this little story that you are not alone.

I honestly believe there’s no other genre of photography as stubbornly dependent on fickle fortune as wildlife photography. Sure, knowing the environment and the behavior of the species you’re after will dramatically improve your odds. However, there is still plenty of room for things to go wrong and for you to go home empty-handed.

And going home empty-handed is exactly what I did one day last December, when I was heading to South Moravia to film an interview with Oldřich Mikulica. In this picturesque, rolling landscape where excellent grapes are grown for white wine today, the waves of a prehistoric ocean once lapped at the surface of a shallow sea. As a reminder of those ancient times, patches of bright limestone still shine here and there, rising like little islands of wilderness among the vineyards.

Because the climate here is a little milder than in most parts of Europe, even in winter, it draws a rare and very special guest each year – the Wallcreeper (Tichodroma muraria). You could count the number of these exotically plumaged visitors wintering in the entire Czech Republic on one hand. A true rarity.

So, I took the opportunity to stop by a location where I knew a Wallcreeper had been spotted. Right on the edge of a vineyard sits an old, abandoned limestone quarry, and that’s where I met up with my friend Zdeněk, also a keen photographer. After all, shared joy is double joy. Or is it shared pain that’s doubled? But let’s not get ahead of ourselves.

We weren’t alone in that natural amphitheater. A family with binoculars had arrived before us, also hoping to catch a glimpse of this elusive winter guest. That was a good sign – it was here! Excited, I grabbed my camera, extended my 500mm lens with a teleconverter, and started scanning the terrain.

And because I suffer from the delusion that good photos require discomfort, I picked a spot that fit the bill perfectly. A steep, loose slope, occasionally dotted with thorny vegetation, way up high. Rock face in front of me, rock face behind me – perfect! The Wallcreeper was sure to pass through here a dozen times an hour… at least!

A few hours later, I was forced to reassess that prediction. The beautifully colored bird, with its round red wings and fluttering flight, resembling a tropical butterfly, was not particularly shy. But it had a knack for keeping itself just too far for my lens, even at 700mm. And even when I could see it far in the distance, it always managed to position itself with either a piece of rock or at least a branch or tuft of grass precisely between us. It’s a sixth sense that birds seem to have.

By now, the sun was dipping low on the horizon, and I was stiff and sore from hours of sitting in a contorted position, when suddenly, the Wallcreeper fluttered right over my head, and landed in a spot where it could be photographed… but not by me. No, it couldn’t be – it perched right in front of Zdeněk! At that very moment, he was standing on a flat, grassy clearing, his camera comfortably settled on a rock-steady tripod. The Wallcreeper, in complete defiance of its previous behavior, landed in a spot so perfect, I couldn’t have staged it better myself.

I will now share Zdeněk’s photos.

Just above Zdeněk’s eye level, in a little shaded crevice sheltered from the harsh sun, the bird began calmly picking insects and spiders from the cracks with its slender bill. The poses it struck while feeding made it look like it had spent years in bird model school. Honestly, it couldn’t have been any better.

As for me? I was sitting ridiculously high and too far away for it to be worth even trying to fix my terrible position. All I could do was sit there, watch, and suffer quietly. I knew this chance wouldn’t come again. Not today, not this winter. I was maybe twenty meters away from a perfect photo opportunity, but alas – right time, wrong place.

When I first arrived at the location, I had a completely different article in mind. Something half about the biology of the Wallcreeper, half about photographing it. Instead, we have a different article. However, thanks to the kindness of my friend Zdeněk, I was at least able to share some photos for you of this beautiful bird. And also share a story of which every wildlife photographer has dozens of up their sleeve – a story of expectations, hope, and disappointment.

Fortunately, the disappointment flew away as quickly as the Wallcreeper at the beginning of spring. On my way back from the field, I realized that I had once again experienced a wonderful and, in fact, typical wildlife photographer’s day. Surrounded by beautiful nature and fully immersed in the activity I love most – photographing birds.