The Improv

Things that fly often give you the bird. It's really that simple. Over the years I've come to the realization that photography is primarily about recognizing opportunities. Many times I leave the house with a certain vision or objective in mind, only to discover that the conditions or subject matter simply do not lend themselves to success.

It is during these times that it's critical to see what IS there, and take what the defense gives you.

This year it has been extremely difficult locating eagles. The birds have been unpredictable, moving significant distances from day to day. With the onset of some excellent evening light, we decided to chase northern harriers. Getting to within 25 yards of a wild harrier (about the maximum distance which will yield a detailed image) usually involves enough waiting to make Rip van Winkle appear slapdash by comparison.

JayMorr captured a spectacular image of an elusive male this week, well worth checking out on his blog. He also sniped a shot of me on the boomstick (Nikon 400mm f/2.8 VRII).

I got a few images of a female, who made a single 3-second flyby within range.

Talon Scout

Birds are a photographer's night sweat-inducing nemesis. All species delight in flitting about at extreme distances, later appearing in pictures as black specs nearly concealed by the curvature of the Earth. The mere mention of the word "birds" also tends to cause the onset of an inscrutable smile for those retailing or manufacturing camera lenses the size of the Giant Magellan Telescope.

Eagles are somewhat of a rarity in the Salt Lake area. Like most places out West the occasional sighting is not entirely uncommon. Ordinarily, however, the chances of actually photographing them are on par with locating a Blue Footed Booby.

All this changes for a short 2-3 week period in the dead of winter, when large numbers of migratory bald eagles use the wetlands of the Wasatch Front as a layover. Apparently there are much more raptor-friendly locations farther to the North, offering something called "heavy beer" as an attractant.

I haven't seen the heaviest buildup yet, but a few birds have started to arrive. Here are a couple images from this weekend's scouting trip:

I also have a fondness for the kestrel, although their tiny size often makes them a photographer's bane. On Saturday this one was cooperative for a short period:

Keep your lap dogs inside the ride at all times folks, baldies love a nice Maltese chaser after a fish dinner.

Pay the Dues

Why do the deranged wade through swamps in temperatures that are often referred to as being “colder than a well-digger’s butt”? No one really knows, although individuals collectively known as the wives of outdoorsmen have offered less than credible commentary on the subject for eons of time.

Henry David Thoreau once wrote that he went to Walden Pond to live deliberately. It is more likely that the original draft said something like, “I went to the woods deliberately so that I would no longer hear about how much mud I had just tracked onto the living room carpet.”

Writers and outdoorsmen must endure hardship, because we hope that at some point it will pay off. Such was the case today. Temperatures were below freezing well into the late afternoon hours with the added bonus of blizzard conditions. The tweed-jacket-wearing sensible types that have been festooned from every cattail lately were nowhere to be found on the Bay.

I was there, contemplating which of my appendages might experience the heartbreak of frostbite first and silently hoping it wouldn't be the "vitals" as my grandfather referred to them.

With an hour of daylight to spare, a giant cloud mass swept aside revealing blue sky.

A group of swans flew past trumpeting their song, as if heralding what was close on their tails.

Eagles! Lots of them. One after another mature baldies started hitting the river outlet and hammering the carp to be found in the shallows. The light was spot on, and having paid my dues and been persistent, it was time to fill up a memory card.

A bird dropped in a huge carp and started tearing flesh off the bones.

Eagles were everywhere. Circling, landing, flying over just to take a look at what was on the menu.

8 gigabytes of photographs flowed like water. Then there was a pause in the activity. Suddenly a couple of bufflehead ducks dropped down onto the water right in front of me with some spectacular reflections coming off the surface in the evening light.

A female harrier dropped in and perched nearby, almost perfectly camoflauged in the reeds.

It didn't take long for the light to fade, but I got more quality images in the final hour of the last day than the rest of the 5 days combined. Tomorrow it's back to work, although there is satisfaction in sticking with the task even when the outlook is grim.

After all, as Thoreau found out, no one wants to die only to discover that they had not lived.

Be Very...Very...Quiet

Everyone needs to check out JayMorr's shots from yesterday at FlyFishermanForum because they turned out wicked. He sniped a shot of me on the boomstick too.

The Old Man & the Bay

He was an old man who took photos at the bay with Morrison, and he had gone 84 days now without taking a fish.

-Ernest Colvinway, The Old Man & The Bay

Day two of the Ironman Eagathalon dawned cold and overcast. When I arrived, only one other photographer was on station and with the naked eye I could see 107 bald eagles. The biggest challenge of the morning was lighting, and from minute to minute I needed to adjust my settings as I poked the big prime through the gloom.

Eagles are large and can be seen from a great distance. That is why it's perplexing how they can often sneak up on you and appear out of nowhere. This old veteran bombed in on me at such close range I couldn't capture a full wingspan in the lens.

Morning seems to be the time that eagles enjoy quibbling over carp. Today was no exception and I managed a few snaps of the antics.

Some observers mistake the numerous immature bald eagles for goldens. Young baldies have a brown, mottled appearance which progresses over the first 2 years to full plumage.

This bird was expressing some displeasure at being pestered by an "immature" that was trying to horn in on the carp action. Shortly after this I was also forced to express displeasure at several clothed primates that ventured out onto the ice of the off-limits rest area, which began spooking the eagles farther out onto the flow.

As the day progressed good lighting remained scarce but we did get a few good opportunites like this carp-clutching fly by.

After hours of waiting there was a short flurry of activity when a thermal formed nearby and eagles started rushing into the air to take advantage of it, soaring thousands of feet into the air in minutes.

Homo Sapiens began building up into voluminous masses of humanity in the early afternoon. The harriers have been very skittish lately due to the hustle and bustle, but I did manage a photo of a male, which is an extremely rare happening for me. I see them frequently, but they perpetually avoid the business end of my camera.

I thought this shot of a female was fun, as she sat perched on top of the No OHV sign:

We called it a day early when the rain moved in and the cloud cover made motion photography an impossibility. Thanks again to Jay for good company and lots of insights. Be sure to check out his captures at JayMorr Photography.

Thanks for stopping in!

They're Heeeere

Despite the rain I made a quick stop tonight after work. The ice had really shifted with the wind, and open water areas were quite a bit different from yesterday. Once the eagles are on station they tend to increase in number rapidly, stick around for a few weeks, and then diminish as fast as they arrived.

Again poor lighting conditions were limiting, but I did get rewarded with a very brief crack in the clouds that lasted 7 or 8 minutes. During that time I snapped a few shots, which only increase my anticipation of the next 5 days.