Florida Photography from a Canoe

The huge American White Pelican

2012-01-28T07:16:00.011-05:00

There are two species of pelicans in north America, and during the winter months, the Everglades are crazy with both. Unlike its cousin the brown pelican that lives here year round, the American white pelican lives far north during the summer months in nesting colonies. But during the winter, the Everglades lights up with the white pelican and it is a spectacular view that is so appealing to the eye when groups of these large birds can be spotted from great distances. Imagine paddling through the Ten Thousand Islands dominated by blue water and sky separated by a line of mangroves. Then imagine a white aberration in the distance that looks like a large white wall on the water. Pelicans for sure. Look up at the sky and you will see a squadron of black and white winged birds, circling above. This will happen later in the morning after the temperatures have sufficiently increased to create a thermal layer. These are the wintering white pelicans of the Everglades.

White pelicans are foragers, unlike the brown pelican that is a proficient dive bomber. The white pelicans typically work in groups in the shallow water, where they hunt for fish. These large birds (known to weigh as much as 30 lb) can consume over 4 lb of fish in a day (the pouch can hold 3 gallons of water), yet they are considered to be non-competitive to fishermen because they eat mostly non-game fish. However, I learned that with the increase in catfish farming in the southeastern states that these concentrated shallow fish ponds have become a popular foraging site for the white pelican. Normally, the birds spend about 1/3 of the day foraging and the remainder is spent loafing. But in the catfish ponds, they spend only 4% of their day foraging because they don't have to work as hard to fill up on fish. In the Everglades, the white pelicans can be spotted in the shallow waters of large bays or grassy water areas such as in Charley Creek or near the Hells Bay area. They work together to herd the fish and dip their large beaks into the water to capture them.

Photographing the white pelican has become one of my favorite challenges. Usually, I am photographing them as they loaf on a sand or oyster bar and they are typically in large number. It is difficult to approach them to get close enough for photographing, but when you do get close enough, the other challenge is composing the shot.

For these group shots, I try to get them all within the frame, but often there is a section of a bird sticking into the frame. I like their bright orange beaks and legs and try to capture the birds all facing the camera in some way. Occasionally, you can capture one flying by.

The white pelican is a thing of beauty, so large with its 10-ft wing span. In the fall, they usher in the winter season with their migration into the Everglades where they reside until spring when they leave to go north. You know their trek north is coming soon when you see the horn on the beak appear and the orange pouch, legs and skin around the eyes become more vivid; all indications that the bird is getting ready to breed.

Hope to see you again soon, white pelican, in the sunlight of the Everglades.

From my window

2012-01-12T17:31:00.009-05:00

I never thought it possible, but I photographed through my second floor window, which was not too dirty having been cleaned recently. Often, during the early sunlit morning as I sit at my desk working, I look through this window. For the past few months, I noticed several spiny orb weaver webs built between two large trees,square in front of me at eye level. The morning sun provides a back light such that I can more closely observe the spider and its silky orb expanding 1-2 ft across.

A few days ago, I took interest in a couple of them. One was building or rebuilding its web, having only 3 or 4 outer circles completed. The background from my view (slightly above the spiders) is messy, consisting of buildings, grass, shrubs and trees, water and the reflections of these objects in the water. Oh yes, and ducks. With a wide enough aperture, these objects will blur out as most of them were several dozen feet away. Lighting was tricky however, with shadows and highly lit areas competing with each other.

At any rate, I set up my exposure to brighten the web and spider as much as possible and keep the background consistent and dark. I began composing, with window between me and my subject.To get an even background, I had to negotiate around my desk and computer, and had only a narrow range to work with. From the following two photos, you can see the progress made by this busy spider.

The next day, I noticed that the same little spider was rebuilding its web. Next to it was its neighbor that had a larger web. It also appeared to be doing some maintenance work on it. The next two images demonstrate some of this work.

The spider's web requires some support lines that shoot out from the center through the orb, and it appeared that she was rebuilding these, as seen here.

Soon, she was back in her center resting spot, with full support.

For post processing, I cropped only some of these photos, particularly the images of the larger spider that showed up so well in the back light. I also liked the light reflecting on the web, so I used some curve work to lighten the lights while maintaining a dark background as much as possible. No cloning or noise reduction were used on these photos. As Dorothy once said after returning from Oz, "If I ever go looking for my heart's desire again, I won't look any further than my own back yard." Well, maybe I will, but it sure is a good feeling to know that the spiny orb weaver is a few feet away.

Photographing birds on an 8-day trip through the Everglades

2012-01-06T17:02:00.011-05:00

Before the new year, we get out for our annual long trip through the Everglades. Usually, we do not get many opportunities to camp more than 2 or 3 days at a time during the season, so we take advantage of our holiday time and get in as long a trip as possible. While I love these trips and there is so much to photograph, bird photography usually takes second seat because of the traveling involved. No doubt, I see lots of birds on these trips. But almost always, I am moving and so are they. On occasion, I come into a concentrated area where birds are plentiful and when given the opportunity, stay in the area long enough to photograph. Always, my favorite location for bird photography is the primeval area of Charley and Gopher Creeks, a two day paddle (or very long day) away. The night before we got into the creeks, we camped on Turkey Key, only one mile from the entrance into Charley creek. Here's a shot of our beach camp.

We left the island at 7 am, with the sun beginning to rise as we entered the dark mangrove tunnel. The tunnel is about 1 1/2 miles long before reaching more open terrain. Here is a shot of the tunnel as one of our paddling friends cleared the path by sawing a couple logs that blocked the path.

I include these photos to offer the reader a glimpse of the variety of environment we are exposed to out here. From the sandy gulf beach, the mangrove tunnel led us into a hurricane-damaged wet prairie that intermingles with mangroves. As we paddled out of the dark canopy into the light of the openness, I noticed that the prairie scene was behind the large mangroves and buttonwoods that lined the creek. But what I noticed mostly were that hundreds of birds, and all I had was thick mangroves and mud between me and them. I found an opening and pulled my boat up the mud bank and staked out. I stepped onto a dead branch that was large enough to support my foot and proceeded to get out, one hand on a tree branch and the other holding my camera with 400mm lens attached. As soon as I got my other foot on ground, I instantly sunk in a foot and a half of mud. With two steps forward, I was on firmer grassy ground and heading toward the bird scene. The birds, by now, had mostly moved further away. Nevertheless, the were relatively close and busy feeding. The water holes they were congregating around must have been loaded with bait fish and other marine edibles. Here's the best I got from my little excursion out of the boat.

I could not stay long as I had four other people with me and this was not an area to get stuck in at low tide. I got my muddy self back into the boat and continued exploring. For the remainder of the morning, I stayed in the area closer to Gopher Creek which had plenty of water, while the others paddled on. This is an amazing place to find birds, I felt like a kid in a candy store. The challenge was that this is a totally wild place and birds have lots of choices, one of which is to stay far away from the intruder. I tried many attempts at photographing them and managed some decent shots. The highlight was the American Avocet, a first siting for me. There were 3 of them busily feeding and while the egrets and other birds flew away from me, these guys stayed and allowed me to get very close.

Here are some other scenes from Charley and Gopher Creek, the best place to be in the Everglades on a warm, cloudless day, in a canoe.

A holiday on the Anhinga Trail

2011-12-23T14:36:00.010-05:00

For several weeks now, I have had so little opportunity to get out with the camera as I anxiously wait for our yearly holiday Everglades adventure. At last, today I took time away from my busy preparations and headed out to the Anhinga Trail. I try to visit the trail 2 or 3 times during the winter months, but it had been almost 12 months since my last visit. I had no expectations.

I arrived shortly after 7:30 am and was the only one on the boardwalk. The sun was coming out from behind clouds and soon, it lit up the water and grasses. Anhingas, both male and female were resting in trees, but I did not see one nest. Photographing the birds as they rest is difficult with the busy background of the trees and grasses. With the anhinga birds, they will almost always face away from you because you are generally shooting with the sun behind. The bird fans out its wings to warm and dry itself, so you get a beautiful view of the anhinga feathers. As they preen I like to capture the bird with its head slightly turned toward the camera. As these birds can be relatively close, you can play around with many compositions. The anhinga, as a result, is one of the most photographed birds in southern Florida. With a wide enough aperture, the background is blurred out of focus enough to provide a nice bokeh. For the photograph below, I cropped out the top to exploit the panoramic position of the bird. Next, I applied a gaussian blur to the background, in attempt to give the bird more definition.

The large pond was very calm this morning, perfect for photographing a gator or water bird. The thing I like most about alligators is how they appear in the water. Their presence commands attention as they quietly move with a serpetine movement of their tail. One of my best times photographing gators was in Fisheating Creek several years ago. I paddled on to an area that was crazy with sunning gators. As soon I approached, they all disappeared into the water. I sat quietly, not moving and waited. Within a couple minutes, they appeared again with their binocular eyes sticking out of the water. Awesome to capture them like that.

In calm and debris-free water, a single gator stands out, with its leathery skin and dramatic textures. Because of this, I am compelled to photograph them with a lot of negative space surrounding them, whether it is only their binocular eyes sticking out of the water, or their head spaced a short distance from the back, which is separated from the tail. I like back or side light because of the contrast of light on the gator's skin. This first photograph of the big reptile is pretty much as shot, except I lightened the water and converted to grayscale. I really like the spiny tail above the bulky body.

For this next one, I played a bit more with it. This time, I lightened the water, but not enough to remove the ripples in the foreground. I converted to grayscale, and because I liked the pattern in the water, I added warming filter to the scene, while masking the gator.

The next one is also converted to grayscale, except this time, I added a diffuse glow filter to it.

And last, I liked the contrast of the sidelit gator against the reflections in the water. Nothing was done to this photo, except a bit of cropping.

After the gator, I found a purple galinule, which is probably one of the most difficult birds to photograph, at least on this Anhinga Trail. They are rather shy and with the messy surroundings, difficult to capture isolated. Nevertheless, the bird allowed several of us to look on from only a 10-ft distance. I always try to capture this bird with its magnificent feet showing, but this bird did not cooperate much in that regard. Here is one attempt at capturing it as it captures its food.
If you have anything against photographing vultures because you think they are ugly and disgusting, than you will be disappointed on a grand scale here at the Anhinga Trail. Today, there were a few hundred black vultures, literally on the trail. Many in the trees and flying overhead, but dozens of them at your feet. With that, they are irresistible to photograph. I do like the vulture; it has a certain charm and twinkle in its eye. For these guys, I get down at eye level and attempt to capture a portrait with a nice background. For this one, the water and grass served that purpose. Then I wait for that shot where the bird is turned toward the camera. As I am approximately 6-10 feet away from it, I close the aperture (f10 or 11).

Along the canal, I tried to capture a fishing anhinga, but she was almost always behind the grasses, where she seemed to be successful at capturing small fish. A few cormorants were swimming, but I never saw one capture a fish. Usually, the cormorants are good for photographing, but not today. I was there for only 3 hours, a short dose of the Everglades was just what I needed. Now, I will get back to preparing for our trip. Next blog will hopefully be about that trip. I will have the new camera and will be experimenting for the first time with neutral density filters while camping on the gulf beaches. Until then, happy holidays to all.

Where the canoe takes you

2011-11-23T15:53:00.011-05:00

I have always said that the canoe came first and the camera followed. The canoe takes me to these beautiful places where I see fantastic animals. The camera followed because I wanted to preserve those moments; it's since evolved into more than that. This all got me thinking about the idea of feeling in control. I think one can go through life believing they are in control. But step outside of that reality and explore the wilderness and it becomes apparent immediately that absolutely nothing is in your control (I believe this is why so many people do not enjoy being in the wilderness). Out there, the weather, the tides, the water, the animals we try to photograph, none of those things do we have control over.

Out there, you are only an observer. Once you accept that fact, many gifts start coming your way. These gifts are often not easy to come by; they require experience, perseverance and patience, innovation and problem solving, and sometimes just plain luck. As you attempt the challenges, you allow yourself to let some things go, but while one door closes another may open as you become a better paddler, a better navigator, a better photographer. You study the animals and learn their behaviors. You realize that you can photograph the beautiful Everglades, but only on their terms. Negotiate the terms and you will accumulate the many gifts it has to offer. Here are a few gifts from over the years as I explored and learned.

The new Sony a77

2011-11-13T20:17:00.009-05:00

Ever since Sony released the a900 (24 mp and full size sensor), I have been waiting patiently for the release of a Sony camera with 24 mp, cropped sensor and shooting speed greater than 5 fps. Finally, Sony has done it with the a77. Today was my first time using the camera in the boat. The location for breaking in the camera was the oyster-laden Chokoloskee Bay. And with 10-15 knot winds and a 96% moon outgoing tide, both the camera and I would be challenged.

I am happy to say, the camera met the challenge and then some. I fought the current and the lighting became difficult; but all told, it was a super day on the water with the sony a77.

The a77 comes with some new features, one of which is the "live view" and the fact that the viewfinder and LCD provide you the same view. Live view provides you a look at the image as it is exposed. This took some getting use to. For instance, once exposed for a white ibis, I turned my attention toward the sky where a brown pelican was flying by. As soon as I focused in on the darker bird, the viewfinder became darkened, showing me the live view of the underexposed image. I don't feel the need for the live view, but it does provide instant feedback and validation.

The live view was a dramatic change, but perhaps the most dramatic was the 8 fps. Wow. It got where I actually set it at the lower speed of 3 fps because I would rifle off several shots with minimal intention of doing so. But, knowing that it has that capability is a good feeling and I know it will be used to its full capacity.

Quite happy with the new camera, most of my attention today was on the ibises that were in great number along the oyster beds. Pelicans were busy diving, and the gulls were swarming. As the morning worn on and the oyster beds became more revealed, it appeared the ibises began catching small fish rather than crabs. It was at this time that the laughing gulls ganged up on the ibises that worked so hard to capture a fish only to have 3 or 4 gulls attack it. With all the action, it was at this point that I realized how well the camera tracked in continuous focus. Images appeared sharper than expected, despite the low light (cloud cover) conditions that prevailed in the latter part of the morning. The true test was seeing the images on the computer. With the 24 mp, the resolution was outstanding and I took advantage of it with some significant crops. The first one below is about 50% of the original.

Bottomline, the a77 delivers.

River of Grass

2011-10-30T17:18:00.008-04:00

The miracle of light pours over the green and brown expanse of saw grass and of water, shining and slowly moving, the grass and water that is the meaning and the central fact of the Everglades. It is a river of grass. Marjory Stoneman Douglas

I was invited to paddle through the grass and mangrove prairie with some living gladesmen. I and 12 others met somewhere near Mahogany Hammock, dropped our boats into the shallow water at about 7 am, and proceeded to paddle through a vast area of the Everglades never seen before by most of the people on this trip. We started our trip at a hardwood hammock and proceeded through the grasses.

This area is where you find red mangroves of short stature, likely due to the low salinity of the water.The roots of these trees grow horizontally for several feet, branching off to continue the march onward. The mangrove landscape is very different from the tidal region where the trees grow to be several dozen feet high and the hanging roots can be just as long. On this trip, we paddled around mangroves that likely originated from hurricanes Donna and Betsy (1960s) that blew the seedlings inland into the freshwater marl marshes.

The day was perfect in terms of weather, not too hot or windy. We had a window of opportunity that was preceded by storms and ended the same way. For much of the day, the sky looked like a typical winter Everglades scene, an indication that a front was near.

It was a long day of paddling, but the reward was being out there in the company of experienced Everglades paddlers. One can get lost forever in these parts, and we could only imagine the life of the original gladesmen that knew this area like the back of their hands.

Morning turned into noon, and eventually late evening as we returned to our launch site before 7 pm. The sky had already grown dark and thunderstorms loomed near by. While paddling, the rain was barely enough to justify wearing a poncho. The cloud covered sky offered a new view of the mangrove prairie, as the diffuse light intensified the greens. As always, a beautiful time to be in the glades.

Water

2011-10-23T11:35:00.014-04:00

If there is magic on this planet, it is contained in water. Loran Eisley, The Immense Journey, 1957

Birds and their reflections in the water are one of my favorite subjects. With that, I have formed some opinions on the matter. So appealing are images of a bird (or other animal) in calm water that is interrupted only by the animal's actions. Absence of distractions is a necessary component of success. This requirement applies to the water. Therefore, no distractions means no water ripples or waves. As a result, we try to shoot with the right conditions.

So what to do on a windy day when photographing on the water? Realizing the wheel has already been invented, it probably goes without saying that water is dynamic and it reflects light, which is the primary reason photographers love to capture it. Ripples in the water can create a striking and dynamic play of colors from the light of the sky and objects reflecting. In itself, this can provide a beautiful display of abstraction that is the subject of the image. But if you are attempting to photograph an object or animal in disturbed water, the challenge is to avoid having the ripples detract the eyes away from the object. Rather, you might try to use the ripples to frame the object or provide balance to the composition.

I first became aware of the power of water reflections caused by its movement on Biscayne Bay. At first, it was to see what happened when I added ripples with my paddles. I thought it would provide texture to a reflection made by a lone mangrove and therefore, would add quality to the composition. Here is one result of that experiment.

More recently, while photographing a great white egret, I was challenged by the winds that were strong enough to create a constant ripple. The sky was clear blue and reflected on the indentations made by the water movement. All of a sudden, I realized the benefits of this. The dynamic interplay of reflected sky and dark water became part of the composition. Here is one result from that day. You can see the bold blues balanced well with the bold white bird.

When light reflecting from objects are seen in the water, this can add interesting patterns and colors. Here is one I took several years ago. I took several images of this portuguese man-o-war in relatively rough water. Unexpectedly, Vivian passed close by in her boat and the reflections offered a beautiful contrast to the man-o-war.

This weekend, I stayed off the water. With the cooler temperatures and drier conditions, I enjoyed being home where I have access to a small pond that attracts wildlife. The winds were brisk and the water was rippling continuously. In the afternoon sunlight, the colors from the buildings, sky and trees intermingled on the water. So irresistible was the light that I got out the camera and began attempting to photograph the only subject available at the time, the resident muscovy ducks. Yes, they are ugly, but they are plentiful. Is it possible to make an image of muscovy duck appealing enough that maybe someone will enjoy it and look twice? I had fun trying. Here are a couple attempts.

In a boat, I am surrounded by water, so water is a significant component of my photography. It sometimes can keep me from photographing, but more often than not, it is the main attraction. As with my attempt to learn birds and their behaviors, I also try to learn the behavior of water. After all, it holds the beauty of light.

What to do in 15-20 knot winds

2011-10-15T15:32:00.016-04:00

Not a good weekend to photograph wading birds on Biscayne Bay. With a southerly front moving north toward south Florida, the winds have been high and the sky quite cloudy. I headed to Biscayne Bay despite all that. The low was scheduled at about 7 am, but when there are northeast winds, there is no such thing as low tide.

The shallow waters that covered the wading bird grasses moved quickly, reminding me of those cold winter days when the wind blows the snow dust across an icy plain. Today, the wind simply blew me toward the opening of the creek, where I could get into some calmer conditions. No birds foraging the grasses, I had not taken the camera out and did not expect to inside the creek. The sky was gray, which diffuses the light within the mangrove forest, perfect conditions when set up with a tripod.

But, as usual, I find something to photograph and today, it became one of my favorite subjects, the golden silk spider. I wrote about my photography techniques for spiders on July 30, 2011. I talk about the challenges of capturing these small creatures from a boat. Today was particularly challenging and the challenge increased as the winds strengthened and the slack tide became a fast moving incoming. But the good side of this was that the water levels were very high, getting me closer to my spider subject.

I found one that was very close, no more than a foot above my head. I had a lot of difficult managing the boat with only the stick it pin, so I rigged up the anchor and used both. This took several attempts and once settled into a position, I still had to twist myself around to get the spider in the best frame. Most of my attempts were vertical, making it a bit more awkward.

The diffuse sunlight was perfect and fill flash would be in order. The ISO was set at 640 and the aperture at 5.6. These choices were an attempt to increase shutter speed to at least 1/400. Once I had the spider in the frame with only white sky, I compensated the meter to +1. This provided a shutter speed between 1/400 and 1/800. I set the fill flash meter at 0 and I was good to go with that.

Soon, the spider became quite dynamic and appeared to be eating small insects before it began moving across its web, from one branch to another. I believe it was trying to renovate the web. The web was low enough that it was not getting the brunt of the wind. It is difficult to photograph the spiders from a boat and minimizing movement takes practice and good luck. But when you add the effects of the wind on the spider's web, photographing becomes impossible from a boat. Today, I was lucky with this particular spider. As it roamed around its web, I attempted several shots of it. This was very difficult with the spider in continual motion, but I kept at it, knowing that my success to failure ratio for sharpness would be low. This was further accentuated by the various background as the spider moved in front of heavy mangrove foliage, pure white sky and everything in between.

I attempt to capture the spider doing something and if it is motionless, try to capture it with a clear background. Pure sky is always nice, especially today as it was white from the clouds. Here is one of those images from today where it is only the spider and surrounding white. Believe it or not, these photos are straight out of the camera. For this particular image, I cropped it slightly and that's it. Note also the abdomen on this one, wider than the other spider.

Regarding the spider that was busy working on its web, I attempted to capture it with various backgounds, but nice even tones. Spider photos with busy backgrounds do not work for me; the spider should pop out of the frame and the background should enhance rather than distract from the main subject. The open aperture today provided a low dof, giving the background leaves a nice bokeh. Normally, I prefer to close the aperture a bit more (f8 to f16) with these spiders, in order to get their legs and body in focus. But today, it was too challenging to attempt these shots with a slower shutter speed and I do not like to go higher than 640 with the ISO. Here are a couple different backgrounds. Enjoy these images of the beautiful golden silk spider.

Return to Flamingo

2011-10-02T15:51:00.015-04:00

It has been over two years since I photographed on Florida Bay, near Flamingo. So I was happy to finally get back to the vast low tide mudflat that spreads across the bay in front of the marina. The Everglades comes alive in the winter and this weekend felt like the first day of the dry season with cooler temperatures and skies clear of rain clouds. Instead, what replaced the bold cumulus clouds were the wispy cirrus clouds, the leading end of a front.

On the water by 7:30 am, I had no expectations as low tide would not be reached until after 2 pm. I paddled in 1-2 feet of water across the flat that would later be covered with wading birds. The photo above shows how the day started. I and my fishing companions paddled east into the sun toward Snake Bight (recently, the park made this a no motor zone). Here are a couple scenes as we approached. The brown pelicans were busy diving. In the second photo, the bird is standing on the "no motor zone" sign. The dark specks are dragonflies which were in great number.

Osprey are plentiful on Florida Bay and their nests are often easily photographed, by land and by water. Today, I watched several of them criss crossing the sky on their fishing expeditions. Here's one with a pinfish.

Within a few hours, the mudflat near the marina channel was exposed and several birds had begun to congregate. First, it was primarily laughing gulls, willets and a few royal terns. One of the challenges of photographing at this mudflat is to avoid the background noise which is the park's very large visitor center and the channel markers. But, I have learned that sometimes, the buildings can offer colorful reflections in the water, such as in this photo.

Later, egrets and herons flew in and joined the mudflat party. Among them were some osprey that had landed in the water. It appeared they were preening or simply cooling off. Here's one of them that was shrieking at another bird.

I approached the mudflat knowing that I would not be able to stay in one spot for long as the water levels declined. This is not where you want to be stuck without water. The mud here is like wet cement. With my canoe, I can glide through 1 inch of water, but I do not want to do that over a great distance. At one point, a reddish egret appeared, quite close to my boat. This is the only location in the Everglades where I have been able to photograph reddish egrets. Every once in a blue moon I see one on a paddling trip, but rarely to photograph.

Now, I concentrated on the dancing egret, but continued to be mindful of the declining water level. This bird is a joy to photograph (but challenging), offering endless poses with its theatrical fishing technique. At one point, the bird came within 15 feet of me. Here's a few photos of this fanciful egret. It has a needlenose fish in one of the photos.

It was getting hot and the sun was fully exposed. Not wanting this day to end, I paddled over to the east side of the tiny island near the marina channel. The birds had almost completely surrounded this island that sits in the middle of the flat. I paddled around in the deeper portion and began facing the west toward the island were a willet was foraging. Several egrets were wandering around but at this point, I was very limited as to where I coul go with the boat. I concentrated on the willet, a dullish type bird. But what attracted me was the light on the water, showing again the red reflection of the building. The pastel blue and red was attractive, even though the bird was not so colorful. Here is one image.

I paddled back to the channel opening. There, a young great blue heron greeted me with a classic flasher pose as it cools off.

What started with low expectations ended several hours later with a stack of excellent photo opportunities. Not included in these photos are the black skimmers, shark tails, jumping mullet and the best of all, the season's first siting of a flock of white pelicans. Yes, winter is definitely here!

High Key

2011-09-25T17:12:00.019-04:00

Nature photography has so many rules, all made to be broken. When the sun is high enough that the underside of flying birds is shadowed, the rule is to put away the camera and wait until a couple hours before sunset to take it back out again. Then there is the harsh reflecting light of the water. It's uncomfortable enough to paddle toward the sun and the glaring water, but try to photograph in that direction and it's even more uncomfortable; except when photographing flying cormorants.

I learned quickly that photography from a canoe (or any boat) has more limitations than photography from solid ground. But then, I began to see the possibilities; you know the folksy saying "When handed lemons, make lemonade". For the past 7 years, I have been trying to make lemonade. One thing that is almost always the case is that I am on the water way past those golden hours of morning light, and often paddling well past noon on camping trips through the Everglades. While harsh overhead or side light makes many things less photographable, the very same light makes other things more photographable.

On Biscayne Bay, I have always been attracted to high key scenes. I started experimenting with the possibility of capturing them as I watched cormorants flying past. What is attractive about these birds is how low to the water they fly. Consequently, they reflect. On a calm day, it is a scene that cannot be resisted. Empty space in an image adds impact to the subject, it's as simple as that. So, I started experimenting one day when there was nothing else to photograph. Here's my first attempt, and because it worked for me, I have been attempting these types of shots ever since.

The old sponge farm (the sticks) has become one of my favorite high key subjects. That first became evident when I ran across this scene below. The image remains my favorite and was taken over two years ago. I got lucky with the line of cormorants in the water.

I also experimented with the mangrove trees that stray into the bay from the main shoreline in one particular area that I paddle. As a result, I can get the trees into a high key light. With their hanging roots, they make interesting designs. For the shot below, I added the water ripples by using my paddle.

I continue attempting to capture flying cormorants, speedy devils they are. But where I've spent a good amount of time this summer is with the cormorants hanging out on the sticks. For these shots I attempt to either isolate one or two, or capture the entire scene, such as this shot. I always attempt to capture these beautiful birds in a wing spread position, but they do not always cooperate.

Lately, I have been experimenting with combining two images into one. Here are a couple attempts of doing that. From the camera, I tried to capture various birds with the intention of doing this. The challenge was to capture each bird from the same distance.

Capturing these high key images is way too easy. With the sun high enough, cloudy or not, the calm water and the horizon become one. That's what I look for and with that, I meter off the water, compensate about +1 1/3 and start shooting. With the flying birds, I need at least 1/800, so the ISO gets bumped up to 640. When there are several birds, I use f8 to f11. With post processing, it is usually nothing more than some curve work to lighten the lights and darken the darks. Sometimes, a bit of water movement causes ripple reflections and these need to be cloned out, but this is a minor thing.

Enjoy the photos and remember, photography rules are meant to be broken.

Low Key

2011-09-22T18:04:00.005-04:00

Two versions of bird photographs come out of my Biscayne Bay visits. On one side of me are the high key images. On my other side, are the low key images. For this blog, I present the latter. Both are appealing to me because a bird stands out well from its surroundings in either version. In the low key version, a white bird stands out exceptionally and ironically, is an easy capture regarding exposure settings. It may not appear that way at first given the great contrast between the bird and its surroundings.

How does one expose such a scene? Simple, expose for the bird and underexpose the surroundings. I find that matrix metering (also known as evaluative metering) works quite well for this. In the morning light, the mangroves foliage and prop roots and their reflections tend to be midtone or slightly lighter than midtone. Dark tones prevail in and around the roots and where the water is not reflecting anything. So overall, it is a midtone scene. If I know I am going to photograph a white bird (egret, adult ibis, very young little blue heron), I compensate about -1 stop, using manual exposure (this amount of compensation may vary between cameras). For darker birds that contain some white, such as tricolor or little blue heron, I compensate about -1/2 to -2/3.

There is one small area that I love to capture these birds. The mangroves barely receive the light because of a few small trees sticking out into the water that cast shadows on them. This leaves the water in front of the mangroves clear of shade and when a bird comes into that part of the water, it is lit up with light while the background is dark in shadows. This is a very cool effect as it allows the bird full exposure while all else goes dark. Some of the prop roots and mangrove seedlings in the water will appear in a shadowy form. The best parts are the reflections, especially from the bird. In calm, debris-less water, it is striking.

Once I know I have the right conditions and birds, I attempt to capture the bird in interesting or dynamic positions and with catch light in their eye. These opportunities vary according to the type of bird. For instance, the tricolor heron is a great subject with it's large yellow feet and striking pose. The ibis is a bit more challenging, but the long down-curved beak gives the bird an interesting profile regardless of what it is doing. The ibis forages nervously and is almost always moving. If you are lucky, you will capture the bird with prey.

Once I hone in on a bird or two or three, I have a range of area I can work with from one position. Remember, I am in a boat, staked out or anchored in one spot once I have my ideal scene. I find that with the sun directly behind my back, I have about 90 degrees of freedom to work with (45 degrees to the left and to the right of me). Outside of this, the side lighting is ineffective. Certain birds will cooperate better and stay within this light range most of the time. The ibis and little blue heron are good examples. The great white egret and tricolor heron tend to move along, which means I have to follow them, not easy to do in a boat. The best condition is when the water is shallow enough for me to move the boat with my foot. Having long legs pays off sometimes.

The shadowy mangroves and the reflections give off an impressionist type of feel as the greens and reds tend to flow into each other. I love the scene and with the right positioning of the bird in the frame, it is beautiful to me. I use the mangroves and reflections as a means of framing the bird.

I have a direct approach to post processing. Because the camera is dumber than my eyes, I need to work the image a bit to get back what I saw with my eyes. With the correctly exposed bird in the frame, I will either bring out some of the light on the mangroves and the reflections using some curves and dodging, or I will darken the surroundings so that only the bird and its reflections appear. The two photos below demonstrate these techniques. The first one was darkened, although I left the reflections in the foreground. And the second is where the mangroves are as much a part of the scene as the resting egret.

Thank you Juanita Greene, Lloyd Miller and Lancelot Jones

2011-09-18T15:24:00.007-04:00

I wrote 5 years ago, "Biscayne Bay is where I feed my soul. It is conveniently close to my home that it seems spiritually reckless to think of it in such a way. After all, we find inspiration in those individuals who have shared their stories of spiritual awakenings through nature while traversing dangerous mountains or paddling treacherous waters in remote areas of the world. To the contrary, Biscayne Bay casually shoulders up to Miami. The presence of the city is a constant reminder that we need to nurture our wilderness with all our hearts as we live our urban routine. When I am in the city, I know Biscayne Bay is with me, like a good friend that might say goodbye one day."

And for Biscayne Bay, I thank those three great people, Juanita Greene, Lloyd Miller and Lancelot Jones. Without one of them, this park would not exist and an oil refinery would sit where I now photograph the bird rookeries. Where fishermen now chase bonefish in the shallow flats, freighter boats would instead be moving in and out of the deep water port. But because of the brave voices that stood up for Biscayne Bay, it became a protected park monument in 1968. In 1980, it became a national park, over 180,000 acres worth.

There are two unique qualities of this national park. A major city lays adjacent to it and 96% of it is water. And let's not forget the Turkey Point nuclear plant and Mount Trashmore, both located on the edge of the park. Maybe it is especially for these reasons that Biscayne Bay must be carefully watched over and cared for. As the park management moves toward expanding the no-motor zone on my beloved bay waters, I think nostalgically over the years that I have spent exploring this bay and experiencing its highs and lows.

From one vantage point, I have been reminded of our urban reality:

But from another, I share this reality with you:

So Juvenile

2011-09-11T11:40:00.006-04:00

Sometimes, there are so many birds to photograph on Biscayne Bay on any given morning that it is like an endless buffet, all you can eat. Last weekend proved to be that; and now, one week later, I am writing my fourth and final blog entry describing my fun with the birds that weekend. While the gulls and the great white egrets served as main courses, the handful of juvenile ibises and little blue herons were the soup de jour. Almost always available to photograph, I find the juvenile LBH to be more beautiful than its adult counterpart. This is likely due to the difficult distinction between an adult LBH and its surroundings on the bay; whereas the juvenile LBH stands out with its white (soon to turn blue) feathers. They also tend to be less shy and allow me to drift close. Here are a couple photos from that weekend and a couple more from previous days. Interestingly, the first two photos are the same bird taken on separate days.

The juvenile white ibis is also quite beautiful. Opposite to the LBH, the juvenile stands out less so on the grassy waters compared to the adult. But this can vary depending on the juvenile's development stage. While the youngest of them present mostly brown feathers, the older juvenile contains more white feathers. But making them more beautiful is how the brown and white feathers intermingle. It appears the head and neck are the last of the feathers to turn white. It also appears that the brown feathers turn white but leave a darker outline along the edges of the feather, leaving a pattern that you do not see in a fully grown ibis. Here are a couple photos for the weekend.

And just for comparison, here are adult versions.

The greatest of egrets

2011-09-07T23:09:00.001-04:00

On my second day of the weekend on Biscayne Bay, I was expecting a repeat of the first day. As I mentioned in my last post, the laughing gulls took over the area. Today, it was the great white egret that commanded the most attention.

I have to admit, with the exception of the egret rookery on Chokoloskee Bay, the great white egret has not been a favorite subject of mine. There are a few reasons for this. First, unless the egret is busily catching food or flying above, it tends to be stagnant and its long neck pose borders on a cliche scene from Florida outdoors. And it can stay in that position for endless amounts of time. Second,the great white egret is not normally a social animal, it tends to forage alone. Many times, I see several great white egrets in the shallows of the bay, but there is almost always a great distance between them. Third, they tend to be very wary of me and my boat and can scare away easily.

On the other hand, of all the birds I photograph on this bay, the great white egret has surprised me the most with its willingness to overcome its shyness. And I have to say that this summer has been full of surprises. When this happens, I can sit in my canoe watching an egret strut past me within 10 feet. I can make a loud noise and it does not scare. I can pass by it without it flinching. This is when the great white egret becomes one of my favorite subjects to photograph.

On this morning, I had the surprising good fortune to be in the close company of several great white egrets. I was out on the bay by 7:30 am. The sky was covered in dark clouds that were moving quickly north, soon leaving me with intermittent clear and cloudy skies. With an interesting combination of lighting conditions, I chose to not take out the flash today. Instead, I saw an opportunity to capitalize on the diffuse light that comes with clouds and which, when exposed correctly, can provide optimal light for birds. I have to admit, I have some photos here where I wished I had taken the time to use the flash. the back lit shots below are good examples of when a bit of fill flash would have taken the photo over the top. As it were, I had to use dodging and curve work to get the white bird to "pop" out of the white background. The results can be stunning with the flash. Just look at Arthur Morris's work to see how that works.

As I paddled over to the mouth of the creek that only yesterday was full of laughing gulls, I noticed a few great white egrets out and about, 3 hours before low tide. I found a good place to stake out where I had 3 birds in good view. They were also letting me get relatively close to them (about 80-100 ft). Soon, there were a few more of them. After several minutes, one or two of them got very close to me, within 15-20 ft. This is when it got interesting. I was soon surrounded by egrets, some in the back light, some with front light. I heard a splash behind me and turned to look in the direction of the sun. An egret within 25 ft had just captured a lizard fish. The back light (a bit to the side actually) lit up the scene. It was irresistible. I metered quickly on the water and compensated about +1. I rifled off several shots as the bird maneuvered the fish in its beak. Here are a couple of images.

The egrets were quite busy capturing prey. Blowfish, lizardfish, whatever they could find. What I am guessing is that these birds were juveniles. I am not sure why I think that other than the fact they were less shy than usual. Most juvenile egrets and herons are quite distinct from their adult counterparts. Take the little blue heron for instance; it starts out with white feathers that gradually turns to patchy blue and white and eventually all blue. The great white egret juvenile, on the other hand, is similar to the adult. Even in the nests the young birds quickly grow and become adult sized. This is quite alarming when you watch an adult attempt to feed the large babies.

When the food is plentiful, so are the birds. The egrets were filling up with food before the tide rolled in. I was lucky to be in the midst of it all. I had lots of various options for lighting and compositions. For those poses when the bird is not capturing a fish (just a pretty pose), I attempt to frame the bird with the mangroves and water. For these scenes, lighting and clean surroundings are critical and I go for these images when the morning sun lights up the mangroves and their reflections, such as this image and the first one shown above.

Today, the clouds covered the sun often, but leaving enough light that it could work. Here is when I attempted to capture the bird with as clean of a background as possible. This was difficult as the water gets messy with grass and wind current. At one point, I captured an egret that had caught a lizard fish. Another egret came along to steal it and the bird flew away. Here is a shot of it as it did so. You can see the diffuse lighting on the feathers, which is quite pleasing. Even with the sun high in the sky, the clouds help to neutralize the shadows and highlights. But, I do hope the bird photography police are not looking because this photo breaks a couple significant rules. First, it is flying away from the camera. And second, but not least of all, I cut off its feet. Oh well! I still like this photo for some reason.

Last, while experimenting with lighting, I am always trying to capture some action. Inevitably, that means a bird with prey in beak. For these shots, I want the bird's head to be turned toward me so I can capture the light in its eye. I would like the prey to be easily seen as well and water splashes and drops are a plus. The water can be complimentary by adding some dynamics or it can be distracting. For the first photo below, I love the reflections in the water. I also like the bird's position and the fish in its beak is easily seen. The water drops are a bonus. For comparison, the second photo is less dynamic, the water does not add anything to the composition. But, the bird's prey is of interest, it is a blowfish fully blown.

Not a bad weekend on the bay. So far, I have shown the gull and the great white egret and a smattering of other subjects. But wait, there's more. The ibises and the little blues did not disappoint. They are saved for the next entry.

The gulls are back in town

2011-09-05T20:39:00.000-04:00

Opportunists to the nth degree, gulls can be so much fun to photograph. Despite this, they are often overlooked by photographers for the rarer or more colorful forms of birds. Gulls are common, they are seen often and in great numbers anywhere near ocean waters. Not the most attractive birds with there dullish gray and white feathers, they are frequently difficult to distinguish in terms of species and maturity.

Gulls have adapted well to human populated environments. Yes, they may frequent areas of trash and they can be bothersome on the beach. But watch an episode of "The Deadliest Catch" and notice the birds surrounding the boat that plows through 20-30 ft waves in freezing rain. How did those birds get in the middle of the Bering Sea under such horrible conditions? Apparently it is opportunity, and if you can't appreciate their willingness to swoop in and steal a leftover cheese curl next to you while you relax on the beach, at least appreciate that they are survivors as a result of that behavior.

Gulls are kleptoparasites, they steal from others. I first recognized this behavior while paddling in the gulf and noticing the gulls hanging around the brown pelicans that were diving and fishing. As soon as a pelican's pouch was full of fish, the gull swooped in attempting to capture the tiny fish that somehow would escape the pelicans pouch. I have watch gulls flying around a large raft of cormorants swimming in the shallow waters of Biscayne Bay. While the cormorants seemingly did nothing but drift, the gulls busily dove amongst them searching for food. I have sat in my canoe on the mudflat of Florida Bay near Flamingo where dozens of snowy egrets were foraging all around. Gulls were in great number and as soon as an egret captured something edible, one or two gulls would come after the bird; a chase would ensue in air and many times, the larger gull would get the goods.

Because of their common presence and social behaviors, gulls offer very interesting photographic opportunities. And sometimes, they present color (like the laughing gull in breeding plumage). Observe their social activities and what is often considered annoying becomes an interesting display of behavior that can only be captured frozen in time. Their interactions with each other always include facial expressions that are fierce and sharp with redness. The wing span displays a delicate design of grayscale from 0 to 255. Fear demonstrated in the face of one bird is palpable when another bird attacks its space, challenging its defense.

How can one not like these birds? I do and I was so happy to see hundreds of them in the shallow grasses of Biscayne Bay the other morning. This is the time of year that the laughing gulls migrate through, maybe to the Caribbean or South America. Or maybe some stay in the area. Whatever is happening, they are in great number and this all begins in August. On this morning, I was on the water by 7 am to watch the sunrise (or at least the clouds that covered the sunrise) over the water. Low tide was around 9 am and the grasses near the mouth of the creek where I spend many hours in the summer were becoming more and more revealed as the outgoing continued.

A few egrets, herons and ibises were foraging around as usual. But something much less usual was happening. The laughing gulls were flying in and landing in the grasses. Not long before 9 am, there must have been 300 gulls standing in the grassy water. For the most part, they were just standing and resting. But frequently, few would get into a tussle. Gulls continued to fly in and out. They appeared to not be doing anything but resting. Occasionally, one would swoop down at the grass and pick something up. But mostly, they were just standing, all facing east toward the wind.

Over time, more ibises began to forage around the gulls. Sometimes, a gull would harass the ibis with fresh caught food in its beak. And yet another display of kleptoparasitism was captured. The ibis, being quite territorial, seemed to always win against the attack of the smaller sized gull. Here are a couple shots of that interaction, captured as I was honing in on the ibis that just captured the lizard fish.

Among the gulls were juveniles, noted by the brownish color. I also noticed that some of the adults had red at the tip of their beaks; perhaps leftover from the summer breeding plumage. After some time, the tide shifted and the water levels began to rise. The birds were gone by 10 am.

That was on Saturday. I was back at the same place on Sunday, expecting to see the same thing, except the low tide was 1 hr later. Not one gull landed on the flats as the water levels sunk before 10 am. Not one. There were plenty of them flying over head, but not once did they stop. What was different about this day? What drives these birds to do what they do? It just goes to show you, you can visit the same place day in and day out but nothing is exactly repeated. So many variables, many of which we do not understand. That's what brings me back, again and again. Just like the fisherman that chases the bonefish day in and day out on this bay, I will attempt to learn it; and enjoy every moment of it even if I never figure it out.

Not only for the birds

2011-09-04T14:45:00.011-04:00

Foremost on my mind when I come to Biscayne Bay are the birds. After all, I see them in much greater number than all other possible subjects. But frequently, I find other animals and subjects to photograph. For instance, during the winter months, I find Portuguese man-o-wars floating in the water, looking much like a piece of plastic debris at first glance.

Occasionally, I spot a raccoon or two busily feeding along the shoreline at low tide.

Sharks are a common site, although it is primarily their dorsal and caudal fins that I spot, as they slice through the surface of the silky water in a graceful pattern owned only by sharks.

The golden silk orbweaving spider residing in the creeks can be the center of attention during those halycon mornings of summer.

The clouds are beautiful characters here in the subtropics, especially during the summer to fall transition months when rain and storms are a daily occurrence. This weekend, the clouds demanded acute attention as one does not want to be caught on the water during a lightning storm.
And then there are the fish. How does one photograph fish above water? Simple, the fish have to come out of water. It isn't that simple actually, but the fact that the mullet are running now helps. Mullet, otherwise known as baitfish migrate south along the Atlantic coastline starting around mid August and continuing this for several weeks. Mullet love to jump out of the water; although I doubt it is for the love of it as much as it is an attempt to flee a predator. At certain times of the year, like now, you can watch schools of mullet fly out of the water as they try to get away from the larger fish that are ravenous feeders; barracuda, tarpon, redfish, snook, etc.

I had two glorious mornings on the bay this holiday weekend. As the title says, it was not only for the birds this weekend. Mullet, blue crab and clouds were captured this time around. The winds grew steadily and messed up the water, and the clouds made the lighting interesting, challenging and sometimes dull. But it was a real holiday on the bay. Lots of birds photographed, but for this blog, attention is on all the other stuff going on. Below are a few photos from the weekend.

Some appetizers on the bay

2011-08-28T14:14:00.006-04:00

Sometimes, the conditions are so perfect that I can spend a long concentrated time in one spot where the birds are cooperating, the lighting is perfect and the wind is calm. Usually, this also means low tide because it is the wading birds that generally provide the most opportunities to photograph birds on the bay. But not every day is perfect of course and that's when I have two choices. I can put the camera away (or not take it out at all) and just paddle, or I can find opportunities somewhere. These may only be appetizers, nothing more than a small bite, but when you have a few appetizers to choose from, it can be good fun.

And so it was today on Biscayne Bay, a few days following Irene, the hurricane that barely brushed us as it stormed through the Bahamas. Most of the time, people up north watch the weather channel as a hurricane bears down on the gulf or lower Atlantic states; but this time, we are watching the northeastern shoreline get pummeled. As the hurricane winds + high tide storm surges flood the Jersey shoreline, we paddle across the bay in calm waters, picking up an occasional piece of debris that blew in from one of the Bahamian islands. The water levels were very high this morning from the combined effect of the moon and the winds coming off the tail of Irene. There would be no wading birds today, but there are other things going on around here.

This particular area of the bay that I paddled today is like a playground to me. There are specific subjects to photograph depending on the time of year, water levels, and wind speed and direction. If it is a negative low tide, wading birds along the shoreline will be in great number not far from the launch site. Further out toward Chicken Key and the channel that comes out near it is the lagoon that contains a cormorant rookery island. As a result, cormorants are always in great number along the channel. It is like a cormorant highway and one can sit in one place and watch them fly by, sometimes in large flocks. Just past the channel are the sticks where gulls, terns and cormorants roost. And last, there is the cattle egret rookery.

My choices today were driven by two things, the wind direction and the extremely high water levels. Since the birds would not be wading, I decided to head over to the sticks. Because of the west winds, the bird would unfortunately be facing the wrong direction. At best, I thought I might try some high key silhouette images of the gulls as they fight for space. When I got there, the sticks were mostly underwater and the few birds that were there, were of course facing west. I wasn't inspired to stay with them, so I decided to head over to the north side of the channel where there would be more protection from the wind (which had started to pick up some) and I could stake out and try to capture some cormorants in flight. On my way there, I captured this immature herring gull that was resting in the water.

Photographing cormorants in flight is difficult when you are firmly on land, even more difficult from a boat. These birds are extremely fast, requiring a fast shutter speed to capture without blur. But what is so cool about photographing them is that they fly low, a few feet above the water mostly. With a backlighting situation, you can capture the bird and its reflection, surrounded by whiteness. In certain areas today, I tried to capture the birds flying over water that was reflecting mangroves and some of the orange colored buildings located in one area near the channel. The colors are beautiful on the water. There was only a small space from which to capture these reflections and since birds rarely fly exactly where you want them to, I was not able to get that image I wanted. Here are a few flyers. Note the branches in the beak of the bird that is flying back to the rookery, still tending to its nest despite it being so late in the season.

After awhile I headed over to the cattle egret rookery. I could see the three tiny islands from a distance and they were covered with white birds. The babies have grown and are learning to fly. Many are still being fed by parents, but for the most part, the babies seem to be independent. In these photos, it appears that there are some juvy little blue herons among the cattle egrets. It was almost impossible to capture these guys; they are skittish with the presence of my boat in the water and consequently move themselves into the higher areas of the mangroves, more hidden from my camera. And the west wind caused all the birds to face away from me. Here are a few shots that at least illustrate the scene. The first photo is one of an adult attempting to feed the young birds.

After a short while, I headed back. The sky has been mostly clear, but there was a storm in the south horizon forming fast. I met up with my fishing companions where we were no more than a mile from the launch site. The storm come over us and we attempted to paddle into 20 knot headwinds. At one point it increased to 25-30 knots and since I was close to the shoreline, I let the wind carry me toward the mangroves where I waited it out for 5-10 min. I can paddle strongly in 15-20 knot headwinds, but when the winds approach 25 to 30, it is virtually impossible for me in this canoe to get anywhere. Fortunately, the summer storms in Florida blow in fast and blow out just as fast. Soon, I was paddling back in manageable winds. Not the best day on the bay, but not a bad one by any stretch.

Framing a wading bird

2011-08-18T15:42:00.012-04:00

I was on the water shortly after 7 am. This time of year is tricky with the continuous flow of storms that come in from the east (usually). Mornings tend to be drier, but the sky is never without clusters of clouds. This morning, the sky was predominantly clear, except for one big dark cloud hanging over the east horizon, right where the sun rises. It looked like it was rolling in my direction and in the distance, I could see rainfall over the city. From the looks of it, I figured there was no more than an hour before it overcame my area. I believed that I would not have much opportunity to photograph birds this morning. But that changed.

The east wind was brisk, around 5-10 knots. Now, I had two challenges; the first being the large cloud that covered the morning sun and the second was the messy water that comes with east winds greater than 5 knots. I met the first challenge by simply using my flash and better beamer. The wind would impose a greater challenge and it has to do with framing a bird in an image. The low was around 7 am and the grasses in the shallow waters were obvious along the shoreline. With enough wind and low enough tide, the water surface is interrupted with ripples and grasses; very messy scene. It's a difficult surrounding when framing a bird in the water. But, I wanted to give it a shot today.

Rather than see this as a reason for not photographing a bird, I decided to attempt some images that might make the water a pleasing part of the composition. To me, these waters in low tide look like fabric with various textures, and wouldn't it be cool if I could take what I see and use it to enhance an image of a bird. Here is one shot of a great white egret to illustrate the water conditions. I took some liberties with the photo. I played around with the channel mixer and heightened the blues of the water while masking the bird. I guess this is one version of many possibilities. Normally, I would not give this image a second thought. But, I've come to realize that the wind and tidal current are just as much a part of the beauty of this bay as are the birds.

Here is another image, this time a juvenile little blue heron. I should say that at this point (about 20-30 min into the morning), the big dark cloud had dissipated and the sun was out, with a nice diffuse haze. With perfect lighting, I continued using my flash. Now, the water was more illuminated and the blue ripples were woven into the green reflections of the mangroves.

The little blue flew over to some single mangroves where several ibises were foraging. I noticed three juvenile ibises and saw that I could get relatively close to them. The little blue was near them as well. These birds were closer to the main shoreline where the water was not disturbed so much by the wind. Also, the tide was rolling in fast and the exposed grasses were now drowning in the water. The juvy ibises can be fun, and I do find them to be more beautiful than the white adult. With three of them, there would surely be some interaction. At one point, one of them tried to grab something off a mangrove seedling.

The blue heron was hanging out near the mangrove roots. This is a beautiful opportunity to photograph this light-colored bird. The challenge here is to avoid a messy surrounding. Grasses often hang from the roots, man-made debris occasionally shows up, specks in the water, etc, are all common distractions in this type of image. With most of these images, I almost always have to clean out a few distractions here and there. For instance, notice the little 3-pronged branch in the water in the lower right of the frame. I would prefer it were not there. But, it would take quite a bit of work for me to remove that without it looking like a hack job (someone could do it better, but I would have a difficult time with it). So I left it there. Now that I have looked at it more, the little branch and couple of light leaves behind the bird's back could also be removed.

As the water levels rose, the only ibis I could see was on the shoreline. I followed it awhile. I love the look of the white bird against the dark mangroves. Here, I try to exploit the curves of the mangrove roots and get the bird in a position where the roots compliment the bird rather than compete with it.

And last, I was back to the great white egret, that was still on the hunt. For this bird, I used the mangroves and water ripples as a means of framing it. I also went with a more panoramic look, as this is a panoramic bird when it is on the strike.

Not a bad day at all in paradise. The wind sort of died down and the sun stayed. Trying to squeeze out as much summer as possible, I hope to get back here tomorrow morning.

You can't always get what you want

2011-08-14T15:46:00.005-04:00

I've learned to never have expectations when I go out in my boat to photograph birds. Many times, I find unexpected awesome opportunities, but sometimes; I return with only a pittance of photos to show for it. Files of photo trips are precious possessions and it feels like a loss when you end up with an empty file. But, it is not a complete lost day because there is always something to bring home with you. Little experiences add up and collectively become your growing history as a photographer. And with that growth comes knowledge that goes back out into the field.

I spent an entire weekend again on Chokoloskee Island while the first kayak fishing derby was taking place at Chokoloskee Island Park. Although I promised to take some photos of the fishermen as they launched, I wasn't going to follow them around waiting for someone to catch a fish. Rather, I wanted to hang with the birds, hopefully some terns fighting on the pilings (see previous post) or maybe some herons or ibises feeding on the oyster flats.

The birds did not deliver much. After photographing the fishermen in the pre-dawn and seeing them off, I was in the canoe by 7 am heading toward the area where I expected to see many birds taking advantage of the outgoing tide. Low was around 9:30 am and so there would be many oyster flats revealed on the bay. Only a few birds here and there, I began to paddle into the some remote lagoons and tidal rivers that flow into and out of the gulf. By 7:30 or so, rumblings in the western sky were becoming louder. Dark clouds formed on the horizon and with that, it is never a smart idea to continue paddling toward them. In the meantime, the morning sun beautified the mangroves and their reflections. I made a lame attempt to get close to a yellowcrown night heron before it flew off. But it became obvious that I would not be getting many photos of birds today.

I headed back to the bay and hung with a few roseates and juvenile laughing gulls. Soon, the sky became more engulfed with the encroaching storms, which by now were producing lots of thunder and lightning. I paddled across the open waters of the bay; as I have so many times before, attempting to outpaddle the storm. Of course, in between strong paddle strokes, I must stop to turn the boat toward the storm, steady it and wait for it to stop moving to shoot some images of the clouds.

I could see the fishermen heading toward the marina and by the time I arrived, most of them were on ground watching the storm and hoping it would pass soon. Many were one or two fish away from a slam, so everyone was eager to get back on the water. The storm skirted the bay to the north and after about 30 minutes, everyone was heading back on the water. A rainbow greeted us as we did.

By now, the tide had risen and no waders could be seen. The storm had increased the wind somewhat, which would have been great had it been an easterly wind. The terns were starting to arrive at the pilings, but unfortunately they were all facing west. The heat was the clincher, I decided to get off the water and let the birds go. So it goes sometimes here in paradise.

The Tern Wars

2011-08-11T13:54:00.006-04:00

Summer is ending soon, which means less time for Biscayne Bay. During the fall months before camping season begins, I head over to Chokoloskee a few times. It is during those trips that I attempt to photograph one of my favorite bird subjects, the tern; specifically, royal and sandwich. This weekend, I will indulge in another Chokoloskee weekend, this time in the company of a couple dozen kayak fishermen participating in a friendly tournament. I promised them that I would not attempt to photograph anyone because my camera lens brings terrible luck to the fishermen. So while they go their way looking for redfish, snook and trout, I hope to capture some scenes from what I call "The Tern Wars".

Four years ago, I discovered that the terns show up in great number starting in August and September. They are interesting subjects to photograph as they fight amongst themselves for space on the many pilings near the marina. They also have the large pelican to compete with (the tern is always on the losing end). I have found that if I sit near the pilings and if there is an easterly wind, I can capture scenes of a bird flying into a piling while it scares off another. It is quite fun to look over the photos at the end of the day to see the various interactions between these feisty birds. As I prepare for this weekend, I went back to some of those earlier photos and include a few here. As I look at them, I notice the challenges of photographing these scenes, and they are many.

First, most of the pilings are very tall and this makes the angle steep, especially at low tides. A high tide will raise me a foot or two, which helps, but there is still about a 10-15 ft difference most of the time. At such a steep angle, lighting is difficult with the underside of the wings shadowed. To overcome this, I attempt shots of birds that are banking or raising their wings enough to capture the sunlight on them. I've also included the flash on occasions.

Another challenge is the unattractive pilings that are often splattered with the last stage of digestion. If I can, I minimize the amount of the piling that comes into the frame. I have no problem doing post-processing to erase some of it or at least tone down the white highlights. Speaking of pilings, another challenge is the arrangement of them (see photo below). There are so many of them close together that it is difficult to isolate one, especially from a canoe. It's also difficult to focus on an incoming bird when it is flying between the pilings as you attempt to track it. I try to get my boat positioned where I will have at least a couple choices for clear views of the birds. And last, the other challenge has to do with the wind. If the wind is westerly, the birds will be facing away from me, no point even trying to capture them when that happens.

My goal is to continue trying to capture these birds and hope for the best. With some luck, they will be available to photograph this weekend. If not, guess I will have to photograph a fisherman in a kayak. In the meantime, enjoy these preview scenes from "The Tern Wars".

Alone on the bay

2011-08-06T14:23:00.008-04:00

As far as I know, I am the only person that persists at photographing birds from a canoe or kayak on Biscayne Bay, or anywhere in south Florida for that matter. I know of others that bring cameras with them in their boats and have posted photos of birds as a result. But none, that I know of, is out there as much as I am or with the same intent. Florida bird photographers know well of the many prime bird locations for photographing, almost all land-based. We recognize where many photos are shot, places that at certain times of the year are cluttered with large telephotos set on tripods and the photographers that stand behind them (photographers wearing clean clothes and standing upright). There are famous rookery locations such as Gatorland and Alligator Farm where a 200mm lens is more than enough length to capture the birds. For the more adventurous of the lot, the beaches of Florida offer nesting space for many bird species including the royal tern, American oystercatcher and black skimmers.

I mention this only to make a point and that is, while members of the bird photography community spread the word of nesting birds, migrating birds passing through or cases of unusual sitings, the information passed along does not include Biscayne Bay shoreline. In fact, the only people that provide me information are fishermen, and that information is not consistent. Fishermen are typically aware of their surroundings, but pay less attention to the details of the birds. I have to rely totally on tide and weather information to speculate on what will be available to photograph on any day I choose to go out. I also rely on previous experiences. For instance, I know that a negative low tide will extend the wading bird feeding territory about 200 feet from the usual areas. This offers some special opportunities that I would not have any other time.

Since coming to Biscayne Bay, I have been pleasantly surprised at new bird sitings; up until yesterday, these have included the woodstork, black skimmer, black-necked stilt and white morph version of the great blue heron. These are birds that I unexpectedly ran across, but only once or twice. I can now add roseate spoonbill to that list. I ran across two that were busily feeding in the negative tide shallows. Here's how it all went down Friday morning.

I was on the water by 7 am, just in time to sit on the water as the hundreds of ibises and dozens of great white egrets began their morning ritual of flying from their roosting island to some distant location along the bay. There is no better sound in the quiet of the morning when sitting in a canoe on the water than the beating wings of birds flying overhead in great number. The east wind was brisk at about 10 knots, which makes photographing very challenging and while my expectations were low because of that, I figured the birds flying made the trip entirely worthwhile.

After the birds disappeared I continued heading into the headwind toward the old sponge farm (I will now refer to the sponge farm as "the sticks"). It's about 1.5 miles to paddle. Large clouds filled the sky and it looked as if they would be clearing out by the time I arrived at the sticks, where I hoped to find a community of laughing gulls hanging out. I've had fun in the past with these birds as they fight each other for stick space. That's what I would concentrate on today. The low tide was a couple hours away, but already, the grassy flats were quite shallow where dozens of great white egrets were stationed here and there. I paddled passed them anyway, intent on capturing some gull action.

The wind had picked up as a nearby offshore storm continued its way further north. I arrived at the sticks to find a few gulls hanging out. I sat with them for awhile in windy conditions (I used both anchor and stake out pole), but there just was not enough action. Here's one shot of a yawning bird and that's about all there is to it. No gull interactions that I could capture.

I noticed that the nearby shoreline was now becoming cluttered with several wading birds. Little blue herons were in the greatest number. They tend to forage at the edge of the shallows, farthest away from the shoreline and thus, are easier to approach. More toward the shoreline are the tricolor herons, snowy egrets, green herons and ibises. Here are a couple shots of the little blues, that often hang out in twos or threes. You can also see how difficult it is to capture these guys in the grassy water.

I paddled over to the area where I noticed the most birds. There were two large whitish birds close to the mangroves. As I paddled past the little blue herons to get closer to the shoreline, I noticed suddenly that these were roseates. I paddled as close as I could, the hull now sliding along the grass making a noise as it did so. This is when I have to be very careful when approaching the birds; they tend to hear the slightest out-of-place noise. As soon as one is alerted to the noise from the boat, I stop and wait. The paddle stays low as well. If I can, I try to get closer. This continues until I can no longer move the boat with any effort.

The closer of the two birds was foraging along some mangrove roots, and I thought this would make a nice image. The grassy waters were messy and the shoreline was cluttered with some debris, making the composition challenging. If the bird would just stay near the mangrove roots, I could capture it nicely. But of course, they never totally cooperate with us, so off it went, closer to the shoreline.

I continued following the two birds and it soon appeared that if I was going to capture them well, I would need to stand up; for two reasons. One, I could no longer move my boat as the water levels continued to decline. If I was going to follow these birds, I would need to walk. And second, it became clear to me that a low perspective from the boat was not as pleasing as the background was too messy. As an alternative, standing would angle the shot in such a way as to capture more reflection and less shoreline clutter. With the 3-4 inches of mud sinking I would experience, it would give me about 5 1/2 feet of vertical height. Clear water allowed the mangroves and birds to reflect, but this was interspersed with the grasses. So the challenge was to capture the birds when I could get as much water reflections in the frame and also when the bird's bill was showing well enough. I rarely get out of the boat when photographing birds, mainly because I make more noise that way. But the roseates did not seem to mind and in fact, I got about 60 ft from them, relatively close I thought.

I attempted some shots with both birds in the frame without closing the aperture (I kept it at f5.6) and was only able to capture one shot that got both birds focused well enough. You can notice that one bird has red eyes and the other does not. The one with the red eyes also has the featherless head while the other one is still feathered up. This is likely a juvenile.

After romping through the mud for some time, I decided to get the boat out of the shallows. As I turned toward the sun, I noticed a few little blue herons nearby. They had been busily foraging behind me as I concentrated on the pink birds. The high key scene with the heron feeding during negative low tide is quite interesting I think. The grasses in the water give the scene a fabric-like pattern. The sun at the right angle makes the grass glow a yellowish tint. The bird's silhouette is the only object that interrupts the pattern. I metered off the water, compensated at about +1 and attempted to get closer to one of the birds. I wanted a shot at the time that the bird captured its prey. The sun's reflection on the spraying water is beautiful, that's what I wanted. But, it didn't happen this time. The bird appeared a bit skittish with my presence and before I could get closer, it flew away. Here's one shot I managed, at least it gives you an idea of what I was after.

Soon, I noticed the roseates had moved out farther from the shoreline as the feeding grounds continued to increase in size. Here is a similar shot (front lit) of a roseate in the grasses of Biscayne Bay. Few photographers would think about bothering with the birds in this bay. If you are a photographer, you can surely see the challenges of capturing these birds in these grassy tide conditions. But, with some imagination, the grasses may provide new opportunities that you would otherwise miss.

Birds on the oyster flats

2011-08-02T17:35:00.005-04:00

This is a continuation of the previous blog, from my weekend in Chokoloskee Bay. I love paddling this area of the Everglades but it is an extraordinarily frustrating place to attempt to photograph birds, not to mention LEARN how to photograph birds from a boat. I basically began my photography from a canoe on Chokoloskee Bay. I didn't realize just how challenging this place could be until I started photographing wading birds on the easier-going Biscayne Bay location.

Here are a few more photos of a few bird species, other than the usual white ibis. The roseates are always seen here in the summer and almost always within a small range of the bay. Unless they are in the mangrove tree canopies, I most often see them resting on an exposed oyster flat. As this was a low tide morning, I knew they would be there, in the usual spot. The problem is, they tend to not do much and most of the time have their heads tucked under the feathers. Within a group, there is typically one or two that appears to stand guard watching the intruder while the others rest. Capturing them like this is a bit, dare I say, boring. They do let me get rather close though. Today, I inched myself closer (with one foot out of the boat) and got within 50 feet of the group. After a while, a loud powerboat came by (the birds are located relatively close to a channel), and was loud enough to bother the birds so that they flew away, leaving me behind.

I paddled to another flat where a juvenile yellowcrown nightheron was busy capturing tiny crabs. This bird had no problems with me being close and after several minutes with it, it came to within 10 feet of my boat. This was a challenging bird to capture as its feathers blended too well with the oysters. As it approached closer, I went in for the close ups, shifting between vertical and horizontal positions. I wasn't all together happy with the end results, but there were a few images that you can see the tiny crab in the bird's beak.

One last bird caught my attention, a juvenile little blue heron that I spotted feeding along the muddy edges of the mangroves. I let the current drift my boat slowly toward it, as it was in very nice morning light. The grayish blue and white body was tiny among the mangrove roots, but it contrasted enough to be seen well. I thought I would take my time drifting toward it and at one point, grabbed the paddle to maneuver the boat. Just at that moment, another juvy came flying our of nowhere towards the feeding bird and within a few seconds, both were flying off to another distant place. How irritating! Now, I have seen this before with pairs of tricolor herons. Just like this, I spot one bird and get rather close to it, then another comes along, scuffles with the first one for a few seconds, and then they fly off together far away. Why must they do that?

After spending time with the wading birds on the oyster flats, opportunities were declining so I headed toward the marina where many pelicans and terns rest on the pilings. More on that later.

Mangroves, oysters and tidal currents

2011-07-31T19:57:00.011-04:00

I spent an entire weekend on Chokoloskee Island (where I dream to retire one day). Mangroves and oyster go together well in this area of the Everglades known as the Ten Thousand Islands. The Ten Thousand Islands is a maze of mangrove islands and oyster flats that riddle the shallow bays, most especially prominent at low tides. While the bay can be a navigational nightmare for powerboats, it is loads of fun for fishermen in small paddle boats. Large fish stage themselves at the edge of the oyster flats, waiting for bait fish to run past on a tidal current or when the bait fish are trapped against a wall of oysters that halts the tidal current like a zealous traffic cop. Bait fish try to hide in the prop roots of the mangroves, and it becomes a common site to watch dolphin torpedo along the mangroves seeking them out. Shark are numerous, large black tips almost the length of my boat stalk fish in the shallow waters. That's under the surface of the water. Above the surface are the exposed oysters as the water levels decrease on an outgoing. What was once living underwater becomes exposed. Small creatures, like crabs the size of a newborn baby's thumbnail try to hide among the narly sharp oyster shells. And this is when the birds come out to feast on the oyster flat creatures. This is the time to be on Chokoloskee Bay.

The Ten Thousand Islands were born from the combination of minerals from the gulf stream and freshwater outflows from the Everglades, conditions that are perfect for oyster larvae. Oysters grow by attaching to the surface and do not move once attached. This is why they rely heavily on tidal flows to receive their nutrients. Food is brought in and waste is taken out. New larvae do best by attaching to an existing oyster shell that is firmly anchored. With that, oysters grow in number forming large colonies in shallow, tidal areas, such as Chokoloskee Bay, or mouths of creeks and rivers. With strong tidal currents, oyster flats become elongated and can make it difficult for a boat to pass through a narrow opening, especially at low tide.

From oyster flats come mangroves, primarily red mangroves. Mangrove seedlings do very well in oyster beds and can eventually take them over, as evident from the thousands of mangrove islands in the gulf. And if you can find logic in the confusing maze of islands in this area, it is that these islands are formed entirely on the whim of tidal currents and storm surges. It is within these islands that I learned how to photograph from my canoe.

The challenges are many. I do much of my photography from the canoe in two areas, Chokoloskee Bay and Biscayne Bay. While Biscayne Bay is soft and forgiving, Chokoloskee Bay is scratchy and irritating; my canoe has the ten thousand scratches to prove it. There is nothing more annoying than to hear the sound of a kevlar boat running across the sharp oyster shells. Like fingers across a chalkboard, only ten times worse. Unlike Biscayne Bay where I can lose attention to my surroundings and totally focus on a bird subject without caring for the well being of my boat, I must keep a keen eye on the waters of Chokoloskee Bay at all times. And with that, birds are often not as approachable as you would think. Hidden oyster beds serve as barriers as you attempt to float toward the birds that are feeding on an exposed bed. With the hard oyster shells all around, staking out is also very challenging and I often resort to sticking one foot out of the boat and into the shallow waters. But, it can be rewarding as birds take advantage of the exposed oyster beds that basically become a buffet table of marine edibles.

The oyster flats of the bay are not attractive and look like out of control mud. But there is something beautiful about all of it, especially with the prop roots of the mangroves and the reflections of the green leaves. A white bird (ibises are common here) contrasts against the dark muddy appearance of its surroundings. Surroundings are half the photo. The challenge to me is to create an image that has bird appeal; outstretched wings, interactions between birds, capturing and eating prey, etc. But, because I am enamored with the bird's surroundings, I also attempt to frame the birds so that the oysters are appealing as well. Not everyone can be as enamored with the oyster flats of Chokoloskee Bay as I am, but enjoy them as scenes from the Everglades you don't often see.

Great day on the bay part 2: variety of waders

2011-07-22T10:53:00.008-04:00

I focused attention on the juvenile tricolored heron in my last blog, today I turn to the variety of other waders that were present on the bay two mornings ago. As soon as the sun was cleared of the clouds, the shoreline became illuminated from its rays. That's when I look for those photo opportunities of birds foraging in the shallow waters reflecting the mangroves. Today was ideal with calm waters. There were a couple of things I attempted today. First, I wanted to maintain as low an ISO as possible to minimize noise. I typically do not go above 800 and prefer to not use 640 or higher. But early mornings in a boat make that difficult without using a less than optimal shutter speed. The glow of the sun allowed me to begin shooting semi-white birds (tricolor heron, juvenile little blue heron) at an ISO of 640 and a shutter speed of 400. Not bad for when the bird is not moving much but as soon as it strikes the water, 1/400 will result in blurriness. I had started with a juvenile little blue heron and over a course of about 20 minutes, I was down a full stop using an ISO of 320. It shifted the histogram to the left, but I was happy with the results regardless. I was content with the shutter speed for this bird that never seemed to find a fish to strike. Here are a couple images with the classic mangrove reflections complimenting the bright bird.

The other thing that I attempted was to compose a shot of a bird with mangrove roots in the upper portion of the frame believing that this would add some depth and balance to the photo. Even more to the point, I love the look of the mangrove roots and their reflections in the water. I also like to capture a bird (preferably a white one) close to the roots so that they fill the frame. Whenever I look at such a photo, the roots always appear so much larger. Today, I had lots of options with many birds foraging in and around the smallish mangrove trees that form a barrier between the ocean and the shoreline. Here are a few shots that include the mangrove roots.

I spent the first couple hours following the tricolor herons, a green heron, some white ibises and little blue herons. The sun was high in the sky and the tide was rolling in. I expected to put the camera away and paddle back to the launch site. On my way, I noticed a great white egret looking for food. While the smaller waders pretty much disappear into the trees as the water levels rise, the larger egrets are frequently still out there searching. I paddled closer and figured if it lets me hang out close enough, maybe I'd attempt to capture some images. Sure enough, this bird was too intent on feeding that it barely paid attention to me. So I hung out with the lone white bird. Here are a few results of that encounter. The challenge was to stay between the bird and the sun and it was heading in a direction that made it more difficult to capture it with a good head angle toward the camera. The other challenge is that the sun and shoreline are not perpendicular to each other, so consequently I almost always have to do some kind of rotation to the image in post processing. When the shoreline is in the frame, it often is not running parallel to the ripples in the water created by the bird. But, that's a relatively minor issue when it is all said and done.

It was such a productive day that I barely noticed the intense heat during the 4 hours I was on the water. The great white egret was a perfect ending to it all. Almost always alone in its pursuits, here is another image of this glorious bird.

Great day on the bay part 1: a tribute to the tricolor heron

2011-07-21T10:33:00.007-04:00

Here's a quote I ran across: "Knowing trees, I understand the meaning of patience. Knowing grass, I can appreciate persistence." I'm inclined to change that to "Knowing nature, I understand the meaning of patience. Knowing birds, I can appreciate persistence." I think most bird photographers have two qualities in common with their subjects; patience and persistence. A bird requires them for survival, a bird photographer requires them for successful capture of a bird.

Without getting too contemplative, I simply want to convey what a fantastic day it was on the water. I arrived at the bay at 6 am, before sunrise. The water was dead calm and the eastern sky was congested with cumulus clouds (they are actually called cumulus congestus), as is the case every summer morning here in south Florida. During the initial minutes of sunrise, the sun is covered by these clouds but eventually they burn off with increasing temperatures. Here is how the day started:

The clouds burned off quickly and soon I was shooting with clear skies. Low tide was scheduled at 8:40 am, perfect for wading bird photography here on Biscayne Bay. I never know what I will find out here, but the bay never disappoints. Today was a bonanza of bird photo opportunities. It wasn't easy, I can't simply anchor my boat and stay in one spot. Rather, I have to follow the birds, sometimes hundreds of feet away. And at low tide, that often means pushing my boat with some effort through very shallow waters. The grasses provide an easier surface to glide across, but it is not easy. The worse part is when I get into a good position with birds, they move and then I am stuck having to push myself out of the spot and work my way back into another one.

But all that effort pays off eventually and today, it paid off big. Let's see, I captured a few ibises, a green heron, a juvenile little blue heron, a great white egret and a juvenile tricolor heron; over the course of about 4 hours. Each of these birds were a hit, but the star of the day was the tricolor heron.

For this blog, I pay tribute to this patient and persistent bird as it allowed me to get very close to it while it pursued its prey. I love photographing this bird because it offers so many styles of foraging behavior. It's quite dynamic and is almost always moving. Enjoy these photos of the young tricolor heron.

Calm, clouds and heat

2011-07-17T15:50:00.005-04:00

The combination of the three makes Biscayne Bay an awesome place. I love summers in Miami, only because it is when I spend most of my time on Biscayne Bay. A precious jewel to our city, few know that it exists beyond the few beaches that people frequent.

Today, like yesterday, heated up quickly and the breeze was absent all morning. The water was glazed with sunlight but the clouds and the reflections were dynamic. Using the polarizer filter on the 18-70mm lens, I played with the side light. Today, there would be no photographs of birds (a few spiders, but no birds), and I simply paddled around and photographed the clouds. Having a boat in the waterscape composition adds depth, at least you can appreciate the vastness of the bay. So I took advantage of having Vivian near by as she fished and captured her beautiful Hemlock canoe in the water.

I can be a little more care free taking these photos. I let the sun and its intense light do what it does best and that is to offer severe contrast to the clouds and water reflections. With that I shoot in just about any direction where the sun is at my side or in front of me at an angle. Enjoy these dreamy photos of Biscayne and imagine feeling the sun and the heat.

High key on the water

2011-07-15T15:27:00.005-04:00

Dang it was hot this morning. With no breeze to speak of, it felt like being in a sauna. But the magic of the bay called and I had an opportunity to get out there on a weekday. On the water by 7 am, distant clouds seemed to be dropping water but these never appeared threatening. Rather, the thin veil of clouds the covered the majority of the sky burned away and soon, the sky was clear with only the distant cumulus clouds laying over the horizon. The water was like glass and Chicken Key and the distant city scape of Miami looked gray against the whiteness of the sky and water. This would be a good day to visit the sponge farms for high key, backlit shots.

Cormorants live in great number near the sponge farms and consequently spend time resting on the various sticks in the water. I love the scene and have been attempting to capture it with various bird poses and interactions. It is about a 2-mile paddle to get there, so I enjoyed the time it took to get there. Lots of baby sharks were swimming in the water and at one point a couple of them swam under the boat in a curious kind of way. I thought maybe the boat provided shade that allowed them to see their prey. Cormorants were flying around, some were in the water. The peace was breathtaking, no other boats, no planes making noise; all this allowed me to ignore the heat.

I arrived at the sponge farm sticks to find several cormorants hanging out. I wanted to see what I could capture there and also try for some flight shots. The combination of sticks and uncooperative bird poses made it somewhat difficult today. But I stayed long enough to capture a few good shots. As I've always said, these are pretty much what comes out of the camera. I set the exposure at + 1 2/3 and increased the ISO so I could keep a relatively high shutter speed for flying birds. For the most part, the sun was off-centered to the left about 25 degrees as I pointed the camera toward the birds. You can judge from the reflections in the water that the sun was not overhead, but low enough to provide some long reflections.

Sitting in a boat on the water while facing toward the sun as the temperature approached 90 degrees and without the benefit of a breeze gets to you after awhile. I had to leave and face the other direction. I decided to head into the creek to hang with the spiders. Those photos will come later. For now, enjoy these high key silhouettes of the cormorant. Here are a couple more with a little post processing. I added a low density yellow filter to the first one and the next two photos are in grayscale.

Dark birds, white birds

2011-07-10T19:10:00.009-04:00

Went to the rookery on Biscayne this morning. It was busy with adult and juvenile birds and it was good to see so much activity. This particular rookery is primarily made up of the dark feathered double crested cormorant and the white feathered cattle egret. Consequently, I typically choose which of the two birds to concentrate on and set the exposure accordingly. There is about a 1 2/3 stop difference between the two (give or take a 1/3).

As the clouds dissipated and the morning sun burned through, I anchored and watched for activity. Soon, I was concentrating on several adult cattle egret and a juvenile little blue heron. Juvenile cattle egrets were hiding well today. Dark clouds covered a part of the sky offering a beautiful contrast to the white feathers. Shooting was very challenging this morning as my boat never seemed to want to stay in one place. Every few minutes or so I had to pick up the paddle and twist my boat around to get back into position. Meanwhile, a bird flies in, landing beautifully in the trees, while I am busy messing with the boat. That's how it goes.

The day was quite hot and humid and many cormorants were hanging out in the water to cool off. This became a nice photo opportunity. I changed my exposure to capture the dark birds in the glistening water. Having set the meter at about +1 stop, I had to increase the ISO to 800 in order to reach a reasonable shutter speed (1/800). The dark birds lend themselves to a high key effect on the water. I attempted to capture birds flying over water reflecting white clouds. The cormorant flies low enough to the water that you can also capture its dark reflection.

There was some activity as well. Occasionally, an adult and juvenile cormorant came into the water and the adult began feeding the baby. I captured this activity but from a great distance. Here's a shot of the adult attempting to get away from the relentless juvenile.

I also noticed some birds in the water going after branches. Here's another shot from a great distance of a cormorant with a very large branch. Not sure if it managed to get it to the nest or not.

Overall, a pretty good day on the water.

Mosquito festival in Chokoloskee

2011-07-04T11:53:00.009-04:00

Never in my years coming to Chokoloskee Island in the summer have I witnessed the thick mosquitoes that were there to greet us at the marina. Our friend Mike, who lives on the island, warned us and we took his warning to heart. Before getting out of the car, we put on our mosquito net jackets, and thick knit gloves. At 6:30 am, we loaded our boats with an overcast sky (sun barely peeking out of the east horizon) and absolutely no breeze. The mosquitoes were so thick that it reminded me of the old saying, "you could swing a cup and catch a quart".

There has only been one time that I have experienced mosquitoes as bad as this. Two years ago, I had the privilege to paddle out to Mud Lake, near Flamingo in the dead of summer. After driving the mud-holed dirt road to get to the launch site, I paddled out Buttonwood canal to Coot Bay and then into a creek that led to Mud Lake. In there were a flock of flamingos that a friend had found days before. He guided me out there so I could photograph them. I blogged about that trip on June 29, 2009. To do this trip, I had to completely protect myself from the onslaught of mosquitoes. In addition to the mosquito jacket, I wore heavy knit gloves, sealed my pant sleeves with velcro straps, wore wool socks and sneakers and heavy nylon pants. Knowing that I would not want to expose myself for any second, I froze a Camelback container of water and wore that under my moquito jacket. Not only did the frozen water keep me cool, but I could drink thawed ice without unzipping the jacket. It was well worth the trouble. Check out that blog for photos of the flamingos. Here is one shot of the birds and another of me in the bug suit.

Today, low tide on Chokoloskee Bay was early and with the incoming all morning, I wasn't certain what to expect in terms of waders and other birds. From the launch, I saw none appearing on the exposed oyster beds and decided to head over to the oyster flats on the south end of the island. The sun was rising but the sky was veiled with clouds. I could hear rumbling thunder off in the north distance, but no storm clouds could be seen. I wasn't worried too much about that this early in the morning and figured if I didn't have any luck photographing, I would spend the morning simply paddling around the labyrinth of mangrove islands between the bay and the gulf.

Lots of birds were on the oyster flats but were difficult to see with the back light. I noticed a large number of darkish birds on one small island and attempted to paddle closer to them and get them into front light. The group consisted of about 30 juvenile ibises, brown and white in color, mostly brown. It was quite shallow and the outgoing current was relatively strong. I attempted to stake out about 150 ft or so from the birds, and with that, they spooked and promptly flew away. And that would be how the remainder of my morning with the birds would turn out.

I carefully paddled around the exposed oyster shells attempting to get close to birds, but they would not have anything to do with it. I never bothered to take my camera out. Here is a shot of the bay at low tide from a couple years ago, just to give you a sense of the scene.

Earlier, I had eyed a group of roseate spoonbills near the mouth of Chokoloskee Pass, about 1/4 mile away at this point. I decided to paddle over to them as I was having no luck in my current location. There were about 10 of them, mostly juveniles. The young roseates are distinguishable from the adults with their white feathers covering their head. The adults, on the other hand have exposed skin around the head and you can see their ear openings. The ears look so alien. The birds let me get rather close to them (about 50 ft) , but they did move over to the other side of the tiny oyster flat, rendering several of them invisible from the neck down. A few stayed in place and with the sun barely cleared of clouds, I took the camera out and decided not to bother with the flash. The lens immediately fogged up, as is the case every time I go out this time of year. After awhile, the lens cleared and I took some shots, but without much enthusiasm. The birds were not cooperating much. The photo above is one of a few shots I took and below is another of two adults. I took post processing liberty with this one, for the hell of it. You can really see those ears on these two birds.

I put the camera away and paddled. I was still wearing the mosquito jacket. Having a net over your face is not ideal when photographing, but what are you going to do. There was enough cloud cover to keep the sun from blazing too hot, and with a slight breeze, it wasn't as uncomfortable as it could be. Eventually though, it did warm up enough that I had to take it off. Mosquitoes were still around and never completely disappeared. But, they weren't swarming. I paddled about 7 miles or so as the morning drew on, without taking the camera out. The tide was rolling in and what birds I did see (several of them actually), they were never close enough to photograph. Nevertheless, I had a very pleasant paddle.

I decided to see what was happening at the pilings near the marina. Several brown pelicans and sandwich terns were resting there. I took the camera out and attached the flash (still overcast) and attempted some photos of the pelicans as they preened. All were facing away from me. I was not pleased with any of the photos enough to bother processing. But, one bird did provide me some nice photos. The bird flew off its perch and landed in the water where it sat drifting for several minutes. It wasn't paddling or bathing or anything, just sitting with its beak touching the water slightly. I suspect is was cooling down, nothing more than that. Here are a couple shots of that beautiful bird.

This was not a good day for photographing. I only had a few photos to show for it, about 1/100 of the number of mosquitoes that made it into our car and hitchhiked back to Miami with us. Whatever energy I had left over from the morning I used for swatting the bugs all the way back home. Such is the Everglades in the summer. Got to love it.

Spider and I

2011-06-30T17:18:00.009-04:00

Spider and I sit watching the sky

On a world without sound
We knit a web to catch one tiny fly
For our world without sound

We sleep in the morning
We dream of a ship that sails away
A thousand miles away
(Brian Eno)

I can't help but think of Brian Eno's haunting song "Spider and I", a flashback from decades ago. Now, I hear the song in my head when I paddle into the creeks of Biscayne Bay. If you paddle through any mangrove creek in the summer and look up every few seconds or so, you will see a golden silk (banana) spider and her very large orb web above you. So it is that one of my favorite past times is to get into the creeks and search for spiders and attempt to photograph these creatures.
It isn't easy and many would say, "Why bother?" when you can walk in a park and find the spiders at eye level. Indeed, why photograph an ibis from a canoe when you can find them in parks as well? It's quite simple why I bother with it. First and foremost, the challenge and learning to get better at it. But I think the primary reason I do it is simply because the spiders are as much a part of Biscayne Bay as the birds and sharks. So why not photograph them?

What goes into photographing this awesome spider involves several attempts at keeping the boat in the right place and minimizing movement. Noise and closeness are not a problem; the spider does not see, but rather senses vibration. As long as I do not disrupt the web, I can stay with a particular spider without it running away.

First, I look for a subject that I can capture with only the sky as a background. Lighting is important of course, but I am finding that with my flash, back light as well as side light can work quite well. I especially like the back light because it illuminates the spider's thin legs, giving them a bright yellow radiance. Before I anchor, I move my boat around a bit and find a good angle from which to shoot. I am often looking straight up and not paying attention to what is level with me and the boat (like branches or my paddle falling out of the boat because I absentmindedly layed it across the gunwales). Once I know where I want to be, I have to figure out how to anchor the boat so I will stay in that particular spot. This is difficult with any amount of current. The key is to anchor so the boat moves away from the anchor with the current. But most important, I need to face the spider. Sometimes, it takes a few attempts to figure out where the boat will end up once anchored.

Once anchored, I can meter the exposure, get the flash ready and start shooting. Taking several shots of the same composition is necessary. The boat is almost always moving, the worse condition for shooting close ups. If the spider is completely on one plane, I can get away with a wide aperture and thus, increase my shutter speed to a reasonable level to get a sharp image. But most of the time, the spider is not on the same plane, rather its head and front legs are facing me and its hind legs and abdomen are farther away. With the size of the spider, we are talking about a 3-4 inch distance between tip of back legs and front legs. And typically, I am no more than 5-7 feet away from the spider. Without a significant dof, I cannot get the spider in focus.

The other morning I experimented with a slow shutter speed, 1/200 and increased the dof with an aperture of f16. With the fill flash, I had an advantage. With lots of attempts, I was pleased to find a few sharp images, with spider in focus. Movement of the boat is inevitable, so I set the focus to automatic spot (not continuous) and aim at the head. As soon as the camera signals I have focus, I shoot instantly.
With practice, the images have improved. Now, my goal is to capture the spider in various lighting and positions, try to find something different each time. In the meantime, enjoy these photos of the golden silk spider. A couple are from 2 years ago, a few from last year and the remainder from this past week on Biscayne Bay.

Shoot for Perfection

2011-06-26T18:05:00.009-04:00

An amateur photographer that is serious about his or her work strives for that holy grail of photos; that one perfect image where all the necessary elements come together. Everyone wants a perfect image, but what is considered perfect is where photographers part ways. My idea of perfection has narrowed over the years as I have studied photography and joined critique forums where one learns quickly what works and what doesn't among experts. Of course, many preface the issue with the statement "All that matters is that you like it". Naturally. But what I find acceptable these days is not what I considered acceptable a year ago or three years ago. I am formidable in my self-critiques and make decisions that inevitably lead to many deletions.

Four years ago, I discovered a bird rookery on Biscayne Bay. During one summer three years ago, I visited that rookery several times over the course of 3 months or so. During that period I practiced flight shots persistently. It was an exciting game of tracking the incoming flying bird, and attempting to capture it as it grew larger in the frame. Loads of fun. I continue to practice when I visit the different rookeries I have discovered along the way. The birds are excellent teachers.

Exposure and lighting are critical for a perfect shot. The remaining elements depend on how well you take the photo (i.e., sharpness) and the subject (position of the bird, background and surroundings). Here are some photos from Saturday's trip to the rookery on the bay with a little self-critique included. Bottomline - I didn't get that perfect shot.

I like most everything about this photo; the bird is banking enough to receive sunlight on its underwings. The right wing is a bit shadowed, but that can be fixed with some dodging. The background is clean and the bird position within the frame is very good (no cropping needed). Even the head angle is acceptable. The problem - it isn't sharp. Normally, I would delete this photo, but because it has the other qualities, I am keeping it for record.

It's always a good thing to capture a bird with nesting branches in its beak, like this one. The photo is sharp (I always aim at the head) and the branch does not cover the bird's eye. The problem- wing position is not ideal, would prefer them to be pointing up; bird is angled away from me slightly, would like to see a slight head turn toward me. And I cropped this photo to give it relatively less room on the right because the bird was flying out of the frame rather than into it.

I like this photo for a few reasons. First, it is adequately sharp. Second, the bird is flying toward me and at an upward angle. And third, I love the background against the white bird. Problem: not close enough, would like more bird in the frame. And this photo was cropped about 20%.

This is a typical scene in the mangroves, a bird about to land. The bird is sharp, it isn't covered by a foreground leaf or branch and the wings are outstretched nicely. Would rather capture it above all the heavy foliage. The problem: the bird needs to be turned toward me, preferably full frontal. Lateral positions can be nice, but they are a dime a dozen so to speak. I can chalk this up to the wind direction. Birds land and take off into the wind.

I actually like the background on this one, it provides a contrast to the bird and it's part of the scene. Those are palm trees in the background and I was lucky to not have a part of a building in the scene. The bird is sharp and angled toward me. And the little branch is not covering or shadowing the face. The problem - the wing position is not ideal, would like to see more of them with the bird at a steeper angle. As they are, they are shadowed. And I would like a separation between the bird and the mangrove leaves.

And last, the photo at the top. Not a flight shot, but a very nice bird pose. The bird is sharp, the background and environment are clean, allowing full view of the bird, including its feet. The bird is slightly angled toward me providing a profile that allows us to see its breeding plumage. The lighting is excellent as well. For a still shot, it's acceptable, I like the leg position of the bird and that it is standing above the leaves. The problem - it isn't a flight shot!

The ibis: last to leave, first to come back

2011-06-22T15:31:00.004-04:00

This morning, I came to Biscayne Bay with an outgoing tide that would reach its low sometime around 10 am. The waders increased their numbers as the morning wore on, and the water levels decreased. I had a new and improved stake out pole with me and it worked perfectly. I had the entire bay to myself, just me and the great white egret, the white ibis, the little blue heron and the tricolor heron. As always on this bay, the birds have lots of space and like to keep a good amount of it between me and them. But, a few ibises let me approach them as they preened and posed nicely. So today, I am thinking about the white ibis, my favorite bird to photograph.

Word has it that the white ibis is the last to leave before a hurricane and the first to come back after the storm. It's show of bravery may also be related to the fact that the white ibis suffered the greatest death rate among all species in August 1992 as Hurricane Andrew paved its path of destruction through Biscayne Bay, Big Cypress and the Everglades; all roosting and nesting areas for the white ibis. I came to south Florida 5 years after that hurricane. My awakening to birds began soon after and I could not help finding great delight in seeing small groups of white ibises feeding on someone's front lawn as I drove through my neighborhood. And when they showed up one day on my lawn, I felt lucky to have such interesting birds so close. Yes, they do cluck like chickens and have been referred to as "Chokoloskee Chicken" by those gladesmen living on the island. They have a funny honking noise too, and when they turn their head a certain way, they remind me of the big nosed comedian, Jimmy Durante (go ahead, google an image of the guy).

Amusing or not, the white ibis brings me joy. It is a constant reminder that I live in a metropolis that intermingles with one of the most beautiful and robust (yet fragile) wildernesses in this country. I am lucky to be here and glad that these common birds are as common as they are. Now, let's get through this hurricane season in one piece.

Finding magic on the bay

2011-06-18T18:48:00.008-04:00

I had low expectations today; SSE winds were relatively strong. Not so bad for paddling, but far more than enough to stir up the water to make photographing from a boat difficult. Low tide was around 6:30 am and a fast rising incoming would be complimenting those winds enough that I really did not expect to take many photos. From the Deering launch, I watched the sun rise over Chicken Key. There were enough scattered clouds to give the sky some color. Here is how the day started.

About a half dozen long necked great whites were scattered around the shallows near the launch site while the rising sun cast a beautiful orange on the water. Silhouettes of these birds feeding in the water are quite beautiful with the warm morning light. But as can be seen here, the rough water was not going to let this work.

I paddled out to face the birds with a back light. The sun moved in and out of small clouds, pretty much the entire morning. Of course this challenges my metering. I noticed some smaller birds clustered over by the people's dock. When I got there, I attempted to stake out my new pole. If there was only one item I could bring aboard my boat along with the cameras it would have to be the stake out pole (OK two items, I am legally required to have a PFD). I cannot photograph from my canoe without a stake out pole. Hands down, it is my most important tool for photographing from a boat. Sometimes, the water is too deep for it, but not often. My tried and true stake out pole recently broke (the tip broke off). Vivian made another, about 1/2-in thick pole used for holding up plants. It's made of steel and is flexible. I stuck it in the water and it caught hard rock. I tried to stake out but no use. The pole bent and when I tried to bend it back in shape, it broke. Long story short, with a rising tide coming in, I had no stake out pole and there were birds feeding everywhere. Fortunately, the water was shallow enough that I could plant a foot on the ground.

After some time, I headed back over to where the great egrets were still feeding. One bird was relatively close to me. I scoped it out and quietly approached it. GWEs tend to not have patience with intruders as a rule. But sometimes, you come on to one that is being so successful with fishing that it doesn't take notice of much else. It's simply focusing on the fish. Today, the birds were feasting on pinfish. This bird appeared to catch a fish at a rate of about 1 per 1-2 minutes. Lots of photo opps with this guy. Using my foot, I followed the bird along the shoreline. It continued moving parallel to the shoreline, never attempting to get away from me. After some time, it started moving closer to my boat. I was soon shooting at less than 140 mm.

The bird gave me lots of opportunities for various lighting effects and a combination of vertical and horizontal shots. The sun continued moving in and out of cloud, but mostly out. I must have spent a good hour with this lone bird until it flew off toward the mangroves. Just as well, the water levels were rising enough that I would no longer be able to hold my boat still.

I paddled on and decided to go into a couple of the creeks to find the golden silk weavers. They usually start coming out in the summer months. This is when you can paddle down a mangrove tunnel and see a continuous row of female spiders above your head. Today, I found several and many of them with their mate. The male spider is about a fifth of the size of the female. Here are a couple shots. The first is a couple with what looks like a cluster of leftover meals. The second photo is a shot of a female gorging on a beetle. Her head is buried in the bug's thorax.

The seagrass bed of Biscayne Bay

2011-06-05T17:34:00.007-04:00

The shallow bay grasses serve as a nursery to many marine species including crab and shrimp. As you paddle in the crystal clear water, you can see the grass covered sea floor quite clearly. Many living things hide in these grasses and often you see them. Occasionally, I come up on a southern or spotted stingray and I will watch it dart away gracefully. Recently, I watched a few infant bonnethead sharks swim around and follow our boats as we paddled north between Blackpoint and Chicken Key. Shark are a frequent siting here, much more often than dolphin and manatee. Last year's freeze killed many marine life. This year, things seem to be getting back to normal; I am noticing many more blue crab this year. This is good news for Biscayne Bay and all the life it supports.

Where there are shallow grass flats, there are birds. Today, I expected high easterly winds, but with the low tide at about 7 am, that would not pose a problem. The grass was exposed for an extended distance from the mangrove shoreline, meaning that the birds had lots and lots of space. This is more challenging for photography and sometimes, I wish I carried a 600mm lens on the boat (that would require a tripod). But then again, part of the fun is trying to see how close a bird or birds will let me get to them.

Today, there were a few cooperating birds, each very much involved with catching crab, shrimp, puffer fish and tiny bait fish. There were a handful of ibises at first, but then more began to congregate in an area near the shoreline and quite far away from me. Some yellowcrown nightherons (both immature and adults) were scattered about. One great white egret started my day as it fished at the edge of the low tide grass.

I focused in on a yellowcrown nightheron that has chased down a blue crab and caught it in its beak. For quite some time, the bird worked on the crab and would drop in in the grasses and then proceed to jab it with its sharp beak. Eventually, the bird had only the crab's body and soon would have it cracked open. I was not able to get close to the bird, maybe a 100 feet eventually (pushing my boat in very shallow water), and this photo below is cropped about 50%.

Almost camouflaged in the mangrove silhouetted waters was a green heron. It was working a small area and allowed me to come within 20 feet. I got as low as I could in the canoe and followed the little heron for about 30 minutes as it caught tiny bait fish.

One of the challenges with capturing birds in these shallow grass flats is to get a clean area surrounding the bird. As you can see in these photos, there are all kinds of grassy debris and mangrove sprouts interrupting the water. On the otherhand, the grasses can offer an interesting scene and after all, it is naturally where the birds are on this bay. I try to find a combination of clean and natural composition, one that illustrates the true Biscayne Bay. Enjoy these photos of Biscayne Bay grasses and the birds that thrive in them.

And now the brown pelican

2011-05-30T17:28:00.008-04:00

From my weekend at the rookeries, I have spent a fair amount of time learning more about snowy egrets, great white egrets and cattle egrets (see previous 3 posts). Now, my attention again turns to the brown pelican. Following these birds for the past 3 years has been the highlight of my rookery photography. As much as I enjoy the egrets, it is the brown pelican that has consistently provided photographs and I enjoy watching them for hours at a time.

When I first arrived at the rookery this morning, it was barely 7 am and the sun was casting a golden light. This is a time of day for photography that I love but also find more challenging from a canoe. I do not like to use an ISO setting greater than 800, so this leaves me with no more than a 1/500 shutter speed at f5.6 when photographing the brown pelicans. I can get away with a much fast shutter speed with white birds. But during the early minutes of the morning, it is the brown pelican that I find to be most photogenic. They like to swim and fly early in the morning, so I often come up on the rookery noticing several immature and adult pelicans flying in to the rookery islands or swimming around the area. I was also fortunate to have an east wind, which meant that the birds would be making their flight landings while facing me, as seen in the photo above.

The slow shutter speed is fast enough to capture these birds sharply but also with some wing blur, which I like. Here is another photo. Sadly, the bird is missing a foot.

Soon after, I paddled closer to one of the islands which was mainly inhabited by pelican nests. There are a few nests that are low enough to be almost eye level. I can kneel in my boat while shooting, which provides me a 1- 1.5 ft higher perspective than sitting. And today, I had an incoming tide which meant that the water level would quickly raise up. Perfect for rookery photography. A few weeks ago, I blogged on the brood reduction hypothesis so noticeable among the brown pelicans. Here are a couple photos that clearly demonstrate the size difference within a brood. Notice the two smaller pelicans behind the big one in the first photo. In the second photo, the smaller sibling's face can be barely seen against the bigger bird's wing near the mangrove leaves.

While focusing on some egret nests, I noticed a pelican scene in an island about 100 ft away. At the top of the mangrove canopy, a couple pelican chicks were beginning to receive some food from a parent. The scene was beautiful with all birds mostly cleared of branches. The way the parent and babies were fluttering their wings, I had a wide horizontal shot and actually had to zoom out to 330-360 mm to avoid cutting off a wing, which you can see I did in the first photo.

Here is one photo after the feeding with the adult poised to take off, leaving its chicks to wait for the next meal.

Later in the morning, still focusing on egrets, I noticed an adult pelican flying into the water and swimming under the mangrove roots to pick out a branch and then fly it back to its nest in a nearby island. I paddled a bit closer as it was side lighted. By now, the sun was quite high and the lighting a bit severe. Here's a couple shots of the adult with some nest material.

I am not sure if I will be back to the pelican rookery again this year. I am content with that; it's been a very good season and everyday that I can visit the rookery is a good experience. My learning curve is still relatively steep in terms of bird photography; but as I live in paradise, I will continue to have many more learning opportunities while capturing the wonder of birds.

The snowy egret

2011-05-30T15:41:00.011-04:00

Memorial weekend provided me quality time at the rookeries. I spent the first day on Biscayne Bay (see the previous post titled "Cosmopolitan bird") and the second day at the pelican rookery in the Everglades (see previous post titled "The great white egret"). During other visits to the rookery, I have watched several snowy egrets and rarely got an opportunity to photograph them. First, they are very shy, they hide well and their flight pattern changes to avoid an intruder. Second, their nests sit low inside the tangled mangrove branches where they cannot be seen well. And third, there are fewer of them compared to the pelicans and great white egrets. So capturing a snowy egret nest scene has been impossible. In my three years visiting this rookery, I've captured one shot of a snowy flying in with a twig in its mouth, the closest I have come to photographing a nesting behavior. And only once have I witnessed a snowy adult feeding its babies. Unfortunately, I could barely see what was happening over the mangroves and certainly not well enough to photograph.

I keep trying to photograph these yellow-slippered birds, graceful in their flight. They tend to fight amongst themselves and sometimes this is demonstrated with crest raising, a beautiful display of feathers. The snowy egret is a very fierce defender of its nest and the surrounding area. I watched one or two of the adults stand alert in a fairly high position on the mangroves and call out frequently with a sharp squacking tone, I suspect a warning to the other birds to stay away. But again, capturing any of this is so difficult, sometimes because of poor lighting and most often because everything gets in the way.

Today, I had a bit more luck with these birds. One thing they do often is forage around the muddy ground along the mangrove roots. If I am lucky enough, one will walk itself into good light removed from the shadows of the mangroves. Here's one shot, although the bird decided to stand alert as it felt exposed.

There were a concentrated number of snowys in one end of an island that is about 6 ft from the end of a second island. This was a challenging location to photograph a bird with lots of shadows and busy background and foreground. I managed a few flight shots but no interaction between birds. Notice the great white egret chick looking up, a frequent posture for those birds as they wait for mom to come back with food.

There were a couple juvenile birds in one particular spot. One was brave and stood out among the mangroves well enough to photograph. My first thought was that this was a juvy snowy egret; after all, it was among adult snowy egrets. Later, I was speaking with Jason, one of the eco tour guides in the Everglades and he thought it was a reddish egret. If it was, that would be quite a remarkable find. So I did some investigating when I got home. I found my answer in the Stokes field guide to birds book.

Reddish egret - all black bill
Snowy egret - bright yellow facial skin at base of bill clearly distinguishes it from the similar immature little blue heron
Little blue heron - gray facial skin at base of the bill clearly distinguishes it from the similar snowy egret

Here are a couple photos of the bird. What do you think? Definitely a snowy egret!

If I ever get a good shot of a snowy egret, I consider myself lucky. Generally, I do not see many snowy egrets close enough to photograph on Biscayne Bay or out here in the Everglades. Once, I sat for an hour in my boat near a lone snowy egret on Biscayne Bay. It was so intent on fishing that it barely took notice of me, only 10-15 ft away. Another time I was on Florida Bay in front of the Flamingo marina where a large mud flat was covered with birds. There were several dozen snowy egrets wading around; a one time event for me. What was so fun about this scene were the equal number of laughing gulls that would chase the snowy egret after it worked to capture a bait fish. In flight, one or more gulls would try to gang up on the snowy and steal its booty. Here is a photo from each of those lucky moments.

The great white egret

2011-05-30T13:05:00.010-04:00

Along side the brown pelican nests are the great white egret nests. This year, I had a difficult time following these guys during my visits. The biggest difference between the pelicans and the egrets is that the egrets have much lower tolerance for intruders. My rookery rule is to get no closer than 50 ft from the edge of the mangroves (for the bird's comfort as well as to get a better shooting angle with a 400mm capacity). With some wind or current, I increase that distance because of the difficulty in getting my boat positioned properly. Staking out and/or anchoring while minimizing my disturbance is a test in patience and sometimes impossible. Today was not so bad and I was able to use the stake out pole (much easier to deal with than the anchor). Inevitably, the white birds become nervous as I approach, while the pelicans appear calm and unwavered. Consequently, I've remained farther away from them and have concentrated on the more accessible pelican nests.

Today however, the egrets were more visible in the nice back light. One reason is that the chicks have grown and are more easily spotted. This imposes yet another challenge and that is to get clean shots of birds that mingle with so many other birds. Nevertheless, I was able to focus on a few egret nests where 1 or 2 chicks lived while the adults flew in and out for feeding and other chick caring responsibilities.

Watching an adult egret feed its young is fascinating but not easy. The pelican feeding is quite unruly, but what makes the egret feeding so much more painful to watch is that the birds have very sharp beaks. This cannot be a pleasant experience for any involved. The adult must avoid getting a chick beak in its eye and in fact, I noticed one adult that appeared to have an injury possibly from an impalement. In the meantime, with 2 or more chicks fighting for food, they must also avoid getting impaled. From my observations, the chick clamps its beak onto the adult's beak, unlike the cormorant and pelican chick that is allowed to put its entire head and neck inside the adult's throat. For obvious reasons, the sharp beaked egret cannot let that happen.

The feeding ritual goes something like this. The adult flies in while the chicks jab vigorously at the sky. The adult stands tall for several seconds while the chicks stretch upward attempting to get to the adult's mouth. After a short time, one of the chicks manages to clamp onto the adult's beak and without warning, the adult bends down as each of the chicks attempts to get the regurgitated food out of its mouth. This lasts for several seconds and then the adult stands tall again. It stretches its long neck and points its beak straight up and holds this position for a minute or so. Then, the feeding begins again. I am guessing that the adult is doing this stretch to move the regurgitated food back up into its mouth.

After feeding, the adult manages to get away and looks relieved when doing so. After one chick was fed, I focused on it as it flapped its wings, obviously irritated that the parent had left it again. With these egret scenes, I went back and forth between horizontal and vertical shots. While focusing on this one young chick, I held the camera horizontally in attempt to capture its wings. What I realized afterwards is that a vertical shot would have rendered a much better shot. Case in point, look at the first photo below. A vertical frame would clearly have captured the wings in their entirety. Once again, I missed my shot. The next one is not bad and I was glad to have captured the scene with the right exposure and sharpness.

Like the pelican, survival rate among GWE chicks is as low as 25% during the first year of life. While the pelican chicks require 4-5 mon before reaching independence, the GWE chicks are on their own in 2-3 mon. Chick competition in the nest is fierce. The adult lays its first egg and will continue laying up to 6 eggs with 2-3 days between each egg laying. This is amazing to me because chick growth is fast and in theory (my theory) the preceding chicks could outsize the new chicks substantially. However, whenever I observe a GWE brood, the 2 or 3 surviving chicks appear similar in size. In contrast, the 2 or 3 pelican chicks within a brood vary noticeably in size despite only hours between hatches. The GWE lays about twice as many eggs as the pelican. My theory is that competition among the egret chicks is so great during the initial period that less than half survive, resulting in 1 to 3 strong chicks to continue growing. The smaller and weaker pelican may be able to hold on longer and continue growing for some time, possibly surviving the long haul. Growth of the GWE chick is so fast that they often look as large as the adults. Notice the similar size of the adult and chick in the first photo below.

Enjoy these photos of the absolutely great white eget.

Cosmopolitan bird

2011-05-29T21:11:00.009-04:00

I have sort of an affection for the little cattle egret. It lacks the grace and elegance of the great white egret, it looks like a chicken when it struts around looking for bugs to eat and it hangs out with livestock. I would never consider using the word cosmopolitan to describe the cattle egret; I associate that description with sophisticated, worldly persons, not birds that can be found just about anywhere in the world. But in that latter sense, the cattle egret is truly cosmopolitan. And I really like this bird.

Originally from Africa, the cattle egret came to North America in the 1940s. Now, they are found everywhere, including Alaska. In Florida, nesting locations are seen in most areas ranging from the panhandle to the keys. It is interesting to me that the landlubber cattle egret often chooses to nest on coastal islands along with wader birds that consume marine food. The cattle egret does not fish and rarely wades in water; rather it lives primarily on insects (lots of grasshoppers). Contrary to this, I have seen cattle egrets while paddling in the salty waters of the Everglades. Recently, there were two of them hanging out with terns and other shorebirds on Little Pavilion Key, a small spit of sand in the Ten Thousand Islands region. I've also have seen a few at the brown pelican rookery I frequent, also in the Ten Thousand Islands.

My affection for the cattle egret (species identified as bubulcus ibis) began four years ago when I unexpectedly found a cattle egret rookery on Biscayne Bay. Since then, I have observed and photographed the birds of this rookery while learning many things about them. I've observed the bird's work ethic as it maintains a healthy nest and raises 3 to 4 chicks and does so in a very short period of time. Incubation takes only about 3 weeks, chicks grow rapidly and within a week or two, can regulate their own temperature and are fully feathered by 3 weeks following hatching. They begin climbing out of the nest at about 2 weeks of age and are fully independent at 6-7 weeks. The cattle egret nests along side the cormorant, which also grow quickly, but appears to rely on mom and dad for a longer period of time, compared to the cattle egret.

With breeding, nesting and raising fast growing chicks, the adult cattle egret must work very hard. While the female tends to the chicks, the male is constantly looking for nest material. The first time I photographed the rookery I noticed how specific each bird was with its flight pattern. Within a 30-min span of time, one cattle egret can fly in and out of its nest over ten times. It was at this rookery where I began to spend quality time practicing flight shots. I've improved my ability to capture birds in flight and I have the little cattle egret to thank for that.
On this memorial weekend holiday, I arrive at the rookery early in the morning with a high tide. Given the location, I would need to use my anchor with water as deep as 10 feet. I was fairly well protected from the wind, but had an outgoing current. Once I anchored correctly, my boat was quite steady and I was able to stay in one or two spots during the couple hours I spent here.

The egrets share there rookery island with cormorants and tricolor herons, but they outnumber the other bird species easily 10 to one. There was much flight activity but not very many chicks in sight. Perhaps it is too early for them to leave their nests and begin climbing around the mangrove branches. Soon though, the babies will be climbing around the canopies of the mangroves and flying about, circling earnestly around the rookery islands as they test their newly formed feathered wings. They are more difficult to capture in flight than the adults that come and go in a straight line for the most part. The chicks learn to fly by banking sharply and circling around the rookery in an unpredictable manner. I try to track them with my lens but they are very fast and are quite aware of the intruder and will quickly turn away once I am sited.

For today, I concentrated on the adults. Enjoy these photos of the beautiful cattle egret.

Biscayne favorites

2011-05-20T18:17:00.008-04:00

I have my favorite places to photograph. One of them is on Biscayne Bay near Matheson Hammock. From the launch site south, there is about a mile-long unhindered shoreline guarded by several small red mangrove trees that have spread out into the water. If I am not photographing birds, I am photographing the mangroves. At low tide, this area becomes a feeding ground for egrets (great whites and snowys), herons (tricolor, green, great blue, little blue) and white ibis. Low tide at 7 am, was right where I wanted it to be. The east winds were brisk somewhere between 10-15 knots and when I did not see a single bird upon arriving near the mouth of the creek, I thought I might paddle south a few miles to the hidden lake where a cormorant rookery sits. I was not wanting to paddle much distance with the winds, but with no wading birds around, it seemed to be the best alternative. I continued paddling and felt letdown to not even see a flock of ibis flying over. I paddled past the creek another 1/4 mile or so and all of a sudden, the birds appeared.

This was not going to be easy. The birds have endless space and can stay away from me without compromising their breakfast opportunities. The low tide grasses made it difficult for me to approach and I could only hope for one or two brave birds to feed where the grass meets the water. Often, I get my boat into shallow ground where I can only move if I push off with my paddle. If the birds decide to move away, I am stuck and have to push myself out before I can paddle over to the birds. It's painstaking sometimes, but today, the birds were relatively cooperative. I approached slowly while the sun eventually rose above the morning clouds. Once the sun came out, the white birds began to glow in the grasses of Biscayne Bay. I noticed a couple snowys but they never got close enough to be more than specks. Most of the white birds were juvenile little blue herons.

Little blue herons are quite common in this particular area; typically if I see one I see a half dozen or more. They are generally not too shy and often allow me to get close enough. Today, most of them were juvys, still mostly white feathered. During its first year, the juvy little blue begins its life all white and gradually turns blue in a calico kind of way. It takes about 1 year before the white-blue juvy turns completely blue. The little blue heron is the only heron that changes feather colors in such a dramatic way.

Some white ibises were about, but not as many as I usually see. My experience is that these birds begin to appear in greater number in this area towards mid to late summer. I think they are still nesting right now. I enjoy photographing white ibises, especially the beautifully patterned juveniles. The juvy ibis is similar to the little blue heron in that its feathers turn from brown to white, giving it a speckled brown and white appearance (see first photo above). But, they lack the aqua blue eyes of the adult white ibis. For the ibis, foraging is all about touch and not sight. This is one reason I like photographing these birds because they move their beaks around the water constantly. This makes for very nice poses and reflections that go well with the mangrove scenery. I follow an ibis with my continuous auto focus as it moves around the water, poking its peak in and around the grassy waters and frequently pulls out a crab or crayfish. I wait for the right moment to rifle off a few shots as the bird quickly captures its prey. The heron, on the other hand is a sight feeder. The little blue heron, unlike the great blues moves around constantly and is quite busy at feeding by moving its neck sideways back and forth before jabbing the water. It's feeding technique makes this bird one of my favorites to photograph. Once it hones in on its prey, you can be certain that the next move will be a precise jab at the water and the bird will almost always pull something out of the water.

The incoming tide rolled in quickly, which was good for me. I can bring my boat closer to the birds. After about 2 hours, most of the birds had moved toward the shoreline. As the tide moved in, I stayed with a juvy white ibis that was working a mangrove tree, looking for food among the oyster encrusted roots.

A tricolor heron flew in near the shoreline and with the sun now at a steep 45 degree angle, I followed the bird around for about 20 min. A couple great white egrets worked the shoreline and I captured a late morning shot of one of them. The mangrove roots compliment the birds that stand with their curvey long necks.

Not a bad morning at all. What am I saying? It can never be a bad morning on Biscayne Bay. Soon, the creeks will contain my favorite non-bird subject, the golden silk spider. Today, there were none, too early in the year for the females to be seen with their large webs that cross high over the creeks. In the meantime, I will try to get back to the pelican rookery in the Everglades and see how those babies are doing.

The Brood Reduction Hypothesis

2011-05-16T09:57:00.020-04:00

Hypotheses are created from observations. Field ornithologists have a hypothesis concerning brown pelican nestling survival rates. It is referred to as the brood reduction hypothesis. Anyone with at least a small sense of bird behavior knows and is usually horrified that the smallest, weakest nestling does not survive and often dies from sibling bullying. Or as the experts describe it: "starvation, aggression and/or expulsion".

If I am going to go out of my way to paddle a canoe to areas where birds roost, loaf, breed, feed, and grow and develop, than I am obliged to learn as much as I can about them. With my observations of these pelicans for the past 3 years, I have many questions. These have led me to research brown pelican nesting and from that, I have learned a few things. I didn't expect to see only beauty and joy in nature when I signed on for this amateur pursuit of bird watching and photography. But dang if nature doesn't get more harsh and often times cruel as I learn and observe more of it.

Here's what I have learned so far. Brown pelicans of the gulf coast began breeding sometime around February. The span of time is about 4 1/2 months, beginning with 2 weeks of courtship and nesting followed by 1 month of incubation. It takes about 3-4 mon before the nestlings fledge and are no longer dependent on the adults. The breeding season varies and is greatly affected by temperature (last year's freeze delayed the season noticeably). It also appears that brown pelicans are smart enough to avoid hurricane season, enough so that the young pelicans are well fledged before a big blow.

Nestbuilding continues during incubation and after hatching. Here is a shot from mid-March this year showing a parent bringing in nest material while the other parent incubates. Both males and females incubate the eggs. Nest building is quite vigorous during this period. However, I've noticed less stick delivery going on after the hatchlings arrive.

During the first 3 months of breeding season, most of the eggs have been laid, but egg laying can continue for another 3 months. Adaptive brood reduction is the name of the game for the brown pelicans and this appears to be a parental strategy for dealing with unpredictable food supplies. Here's how it works. Within about a 40 hr period, the mother lays 3 eggs, the second egg comes about 24 hrs later and the third one about 40 hr following the first. When the second hatchling appears, the first one is 16% larger. When the third one appears, it is 33% larger! This initial size difference is a competitive asymmetry that gives the first chick a head start and much better odds of survival. The mortality rate is greater for the second and third hatched birds, they feed less and grow more slowly. In the photos below, notice the one that appears smaller than the other two. In the first photo, you can barely see the smaller bird shadowed by its larger siblings.

Brown pelicans are atricial birds, meaning the hatchlings are dependent on parents for long durations. During the first 10-12 weeks, both parents care for the babies that require nourishment and thermoregulation from them. It is during the first month that nestlings experience the highest mortality rate. Success rate of initial clutches is about 50%. Mortality rate in the nest depends on several things including the parents' success at foraging, tick infestion which can lead to nest abandonment, human encrouchment (primarily ground nests) and predators. Feeding the babies requires about 1 lb of fish per day for each nestling. Feeding is a fierce competition for the siblings as seen here.

The nestlings grow in size, and feathers begin to replace the downy white. As wings grow, nestlings exercise them by flapping them vigorously before the bird can even get itself out of the nest. Space becomes an issue as the larger siblings demand more of it, while the smaller birds hang on to whatever is leftover. The pelican must also keep its pouch flexible and does so by stretching it, as seen in the third and fourth photos below. This highly vascularized pouch is the pelican's life blood for many reasons; heat dissipation through fluttering, capturing fish, and as a breeding display.

Brown pelicans are colonial nesters, as few as 10 pairs to as many as 1500 have been observed within a rookery. Typically, there is about a 4-ft distance between nests; but from what I can see, egret nests fill in some of that empty space between, leaving very little room for the large gular-pouched pelicans. Group activity is quite robust as parents tend to their babies while many juveniles and adults hang around seemingly not attending nests. I see many pelicans in juvenile plumage among the adults and nestlings. Brown pelicans do not reach full adult plumage until about 3 yrs and typically do not begin breeding until age 3-5 yrs. But, juvenile pelicans have been known to breed (although not as successfully as their older counterparts) and I have seen juvenile pelicans flying with nesting sticks. What I observe at the rookery seems to be a combination of non-breeding and breeding juveniles mixed with the adult breeders and their young. As a result of the dense population of birds, there is plenty of interaction going on as can be seen here.

Once fledged, the pelican's mortality rate is about 70-75% during the first year, but then declines to about 15% after that. Last year in late May, I watched several young fledglings in the water and flying small distances around the nest islands. Here are a few photos of some of these birds as they learn to care for themselves.

During this trip to the rookery, I noticed several juvenile pelicans flying about. There were lots of flying adults too, some bringing nest sticks back to the nest. I also noticed that the adults no longer had the bright yellow tuft of feathers on their crowns, which are noticeable during the courtship period. Here are a few pelicans lovely in flight.

And finally, knowing that the young nestlings have a low chance of reaching full adulthood (adults, by the way, can live as long as 20 yrs), here are a couple photos to compare. The soon-to-fledge bird in the first photo has less than a 50% chance of getting through the next year. With good genes and luck, this bird will come back to this rookery next year in its juvenile plumage and will then likely grow up to be a parent one day, such as the adult in the second photo.

I can't put all this information into this blog without giving credit where credit it due. Sources of information are the following:

Blus, LJ, & Keahey, JA. Variation in reproductivity with age in the brown pelican. The Auk, 95, 1978.
National Audobon Society's The Sibling Guide to Bird Life & Behavior, 2001.
Saches, EB, & Jodice, PGR. Behavior of parent and nestling brown pelicans during early brood rearing. Waterbirds, 32, 2009.
Schreiber, RW. Nesting chronology of the eastern brown pelican. The Auk, 97, 1980.
Schreiber, RW. Growth and development of nestling brown pelicans. Bird Banding, 47, 1976.
Shields, MA. Establishment and persistence of mass hierarchies in broods of the brown pelican. Wilson Bull, 112, 2000.

Summer is here

2011-05-08T17:22:00.010-04:00

And that means more time on Biscayne Bay. It's been over five months since I had seen the bay near the Deering Estate. Going there this morning was the first day of my summer and I can't think of a better way to spend a morning than on Biscayne Bay. It Mother's Day and it seemed very quiet at 6:45 am at the launch site. With a mostly cloudy sky, the sun shown on the horizon only for a short while before it hid behind a large splay of clouds that would disappear an hour later. Low tide was about 8 am, so I expected to see birds on the water.

I headed toward the bird rookeries with calm waters and barely a breeze. There were a few wading birds, a great blue, a great egret and not much else. Ibis and cattle egret flocks flew over and cormorants were flying about. Once at the rookery, I noticed that my rookery island was no longer being used by the cattle egrets, or any egrets from what I could tell. Only cormorants were nesting. It was 3 years ago that I spent many mornings at this little island photographing cattle egrets and cormorants. For the past 2 years, I have had little opportunity to photograph the white birds. Now this year, the egrets are no longer using the island. Seems the cormorants have taken over. Such is life in the city.

I paddled the short distance over to the other rookery islands that are not located in as secluded an area as the previous island. There are 3 tiny islands separated only by about 15 feet from each other and this is now where the egrets are nesting. I caught on to them a couple years ago, but this is not my favorite place to hang out and photograph, so I don't come here often. First, the islands are adjacent to a boat channel, although not often used. And the lighting is such that I need to anchor on the channel side, rather than the more protected west side. Second, the water is relatively deep, so anchoring is the only way to go; the stake out pole is useless here. And third, it is close to several condominium buildings, thus lacking privacy.

Once I got over my complaining, I was glad that the sun was no longer hidden in clouds. The morning was not burning white light yet, so there was a good hour of warm morning light to play with. Cattle egrets mostly, but several tricolor herons were flying about, often with sticks. There were many cormorants here, but clearly, the egrets outnumbered them. Once I got the birds' flight patterns figured out (of course they altered them as soon as I arrived), I stayed in one or two spots for awhile and captured some incoming flights. Here are a few shots of the day.

Later, I paddled past the cormorant island and then headed over to the sponge farm where several cormorants were resting. The sun was high and it was time for some high key photos. Looking for the right cormorant wing spread or combination of birds on sticks, I staked out and captured some shots. This has been a fun experiment lately and the black and white images have turned out quite well. These shots, by the way, are pretty much what came out of the camera. I overexpose by 1 2/3stops or more. Depending on how rough the water is, I may have to remove some blue streaks from the water area in post processing. For fun, I played around with some of the artistic filters in photoshop. The second one you see below has a filter added to it, rendering the subjects completely black.

Baby pelicans

2011-05-01T07:31:00.012-04:00

At last, the babies are here! I paddled over to the rookery yesterday morning, with northeast winds blowing briskly and increasing slightly during the morning hours. Got to the rookery at about 8 am with cloud covered sky. This would be a challenging light as large dark clouds mixed with thin clouds, all passing quickly from east to west. For some short periods, the sun was uncovered but always a slight haze filled the sky. North of the Tamiami trail somewhere in the Big Cypress a fire burned and this created a thick fog while driving to Everglades City. While on the water, the east winds blew that smoke over the bay.

One mangrove island seemed to favor the pelicans over the egrets. Here, there were at least a dozen pelican nests with various sizes of babies. Some barely big enough to see their triangle shaped heads over the nest, others were big enough that they were already flapping their wings (barely feathered) widely. In most the nests were 3 babies. Finding a nest with a clear view was not easy and most of the well seen birds were located on the west side of the island. This would have been a perfect set up as it was also an area protected from the strong winds. Unfortunately, it is the least desirable for lighting. I moved to the other side and with the sun behind me, I tried to stake out so that my boat stayed firmly in one spot while I face the birds. Having a strong wind makes this very awkward. Here's a shot of a nest; in the first photo the parent had a wary eye on me. After a few minutes, she decided I was not a threat and went back to her nap while keeping her featherless babies warm.

I had a challenging day both winds and lighting. For most of the morning, I kept the flash in the pelican case, attempting to shoot when the sun was not covered. I paddled around to various islands, some where most great white egrets were nesting. I noticed something different this year compared to last; there are many more snowy egrets nesting here. The problem with those guys is they hide low in the trees, so rarely do I see a nest clearly. And they do shy away from me moreso than the other birds.

Later, I paddled over to the island that contained the most baby pelicans. I staked out on the west side with the intent of simply watching the babies, as I had an excellent view of a couple nests. An adult flew into one of the nests to feed the starving babies. With that I decided to set up my fill flash to attempt some shots, to overcome the shadows as the sun provided a severe side light. Feeding time is quite an act to see; at times 2 baby heads are inside the parent's pouch and appear to reach far into its neck. It is my understanding that both parents take the responsibility of feeding the babies about 6-8 times a day. Feeding on regurgitated fish, the babies grow quickly and in about 4 weeks from birth are about ready to fledge. That's when it becomes fun to watch them as they learn to fly. I think in 2 weeks, I should see much more fledging activity and if I am lucky, maybe watch a parent teach its baby to dive for food. I read somewhere that this endeavor is so dangerous for a young pelican fledgling that the parent will interrupt its dive before it hits the water if it is doing it wrong. Here are a few flash shots of the feeding scene, not ideal light but at least you can see what is happening.

I will be back in two weeks, hoping to see the baby egrets as well. One thing to add here, I have been audio recording while at the rookery. Yesterday, I captured the loud screeching sounds of baby pelicans. In this audio, you'll also hear a plane fly over, a typical sound. Between the low flying planes and the airboat tours to the Brown island near by, the bird rookery sounds are continually interrupted. Be patient, and try to listen the entire audio (about 4 min). Here is the link to the audio file.http://www.plunder.com/Rookery-4-min-wma-download-4caeebe7c8.htm

Brown pelican spa

2011-04-03T13:24:00.006-04:00

I visited the bird rookery for a brief time last weekend. I and some paddling friends of mine were on our way to Camp Lulu for the night. We passed through the rookery at an early enough time of day to have some good light. Clear skies dominated and the south winds had not yet picked up as they would get to 20-25 knots later in the day. Egrets and pelicans were busy with their nest activities as usual. I noticed a few snowy egrets, but they are more difficult to find among the mangroves and big birds that dominate them. The snowys were definitely there in number because their distinct voices were heard clearly among the cacaphony of cormorant croaks and egret squacks. The snowys have this funny gurgling sound, quite amusing.

Since there were other paddlers and no time to hang out, I didn't anchor and had no intention of staying more than 20 minutes or so. Some adult brown pelicans were in the water near the nest islands. This meant that they were bathing, having a bit of spa, a reprieve from their nesting duties. This meant fun photo opportunities while the birds luxuriated in their baths. The pelicans splash their wings fully into the water with very rapid beats. The water spray is great as they continue this action for a few seconds, rest a few and start over again. it begins with a full head dunk and then the wings start flapping madly. With several frames per second, I can capture various positions and find some of them to offer exquisite feather display, like this one.

Enjoy these shots from the short visit with the brown pelicans.

Return to the Rookery: Part 2

2011-03-17T19:58:00.008-04:00

Attention is drawn to the great white egret. The great white egret as well as its cousin the great blue heron are as much a symbol of wild Florida as the alligator. So often, the long necked bird shares center light with the ancient reptile in just about any Florida brochure or advertisement that includes the Everglades. We've seen so many photos of the egret standing upright gazing ahead, that we barely take a second look when we see the real thing. Seasonally monogamous, the great white egret is currently nesting. Courting has been going on at the rookery and soon, the results will be seen. For now, paired egrets tend to the nest, which may or may not have eggs yet. The male egret works hard throughout the day, continually flying away and coming back with a stick to offer its mate who waits patiently. Every once in awhile this ritual is interrupted with egret sex which lasts about 10 seconds. This is long enough to shoot several frames of the act. I did manage to capture a mating scene, but not as well as I would like. Last year, I captured a couple in the act and both the male and female were cleared of mangrove leaves and branches that all could be seen. This time, the female was hidden mostly. The rookery was full of great whites, mostly paired, but some seemingly alone. I focused on a couple that was in good position for photographing. One of the challenges with photographing this rookery is isolating one or two birds from all the others that surround them. The pelicans' large beak makes this even more difficult. Nevertheless, I found some birds that I could target with clean surroundings. I mentioned in the last post how calm the brown pelicans seem. To the contrary, the egrets are nervous and loud, which makes some of their behaviors easier to capture with the loud bird squacks that forewarn you something is about to happen. The male egret coming in with nesting sticks gives his mate and everyone else fair warning that he is about to land. The other thing that makes that particular behavior easy to capture is that they are on a very tight schedule and rarely waver from it. I can time their fly-ins with precision, they are that predictable. Such is nature. With these white birds, as with any white bird, care must be taken to not blow out the whites with too much exposure. Always shooting in manual mode, I use evaluative metering and find that with the mangroves and sky dominating the scene, I can stop down about 2/3 to get the white feathers exposed well. I tend to err a bit in the direction of overexposure with the intention of recovering some of the whites in post processing. This way, I can capture the scene with enough brightness to make the birds "pop". At times, the sun was veiled with thin clouds, enough to change the exposure by at least 2/3 stop. Here's one shot with the clouds. I had to do a little dodging on the bird feathers to lighten them a bit. I also visited the cormorant island behind the egret's area. Many of the young cormorants are no longer cared for by the adults and about a dozen of them were resting in the tree. Many still remain in the nests however. Here's one shot of a young cormorant that only a couple months ago was too small to leave the nest. I hope to be back to the rookery in April, and by then, babies should be there in number.

Return to the Rookery: Part 1

2011-03-13T19:19:00.016-04:00

Each spring I look forward to visiting the brown pelican and great white egret rookeries. Today was my first day of spending quality time at the rookery this year. In February, I passed by twice, but with little time to spend as these were camping trips with some distance to cover. About 4 weeks ago, there was no nesting activity that I could see, although lots of pelicans were hunkered down in the trees with the strong northeast winds blowing. Two weeks ago there was much more activity, lots of pelicans in nests and a few egret couples beginning their courtships. I figured it would not be long before more egrets appeared. Now the egrets were in greater number and could be seen some distance away. For this entry, I will talk about the pelicans, the egrets will come with the next blog.

On the water by 7:30 am (daylight savings time), I was at the rookery by 8 am. Before entering the rookery area, I pulled out the camera and got everything ready for anchoring so as to minimize noise and movement. Pelicans, egrets, ibises, cormorants were flying around the area. The ibises had left their roosting spots and had moved on to the oyster flats near by. I thought I saw a group of white pelicans in the distance and eventually watched a handful of roseate spoonbills flying around. This area of the bay was teeming with feathery life, a true sign that spring was in the air.

I approached one of the rookery islands that is relatively large and faces the rising sun. The bonus today was that I had a slight easterly breeze, enough so that the birds would be flying into the wind, toward me and the sun. There were some pelicans bathing in the water nearby. Always a fun photo opp, I approached the birds slowly as they sprayed water with the fast action of their wings. For these shots, I attempt to get myself low in the boat and try for those head angles when the bird is looking directly at the lens and the background is clean (no nearby mangroves). I want to capture the scene frozen, with at least 1/800 shutter speed (cringing at having to bump up the ISO to 800 during the early morning light). This captures the action quite well by freezing the water splashes, but with some wing blur remaining.

Soon I carefully anchored myself near the bird island. The birds do frighten a bit when I first arrive, so I move slowly and quietly, stopping frequently before reaching the edge of the birds' comfort zone. With patients I can begin approaching slowly again until I reach a fair distance for a 400mm. Most of the time, I can capture scenes at about 300mm, especially when the wings are spread. The pelicans don't seems bothered as much as the egrets. In fact, all told, the pelicans have a calm demeanor and the adults never seem to make a noise. Even during sex they appear relaxed. The couples are fun to watch, they seem playful at times, nipping and biting each other in the beaks. But mostly, they are taking care of business, protecting the eggs, stick delivery, nest maintenance, preening and bathing. The mother never seems to leave the nest and I wonder what her feeding schedule might be.

I focused on one particular couple for quite some time. The male diligently brought in sticks and from where I was sitting, I could capture some good scenes of the nest delivery. Pelicans must have a difficult time carrying large sticks with those big pouches, and most often they are seen with tiny branches that may or may not have mangrove leaves. To the contrary, this particular pelican was very successful bringing in quite large branches. Each branch had several offshoots, which must have made it challenging for the bird to collect and carry. Nevertheless, he succeeded to bring home one trophy branch right after the other. His mate must have been proud.

I noticed another pelican leave the mangrove and enter the water below. I watched it as it attempted to grab a branch, which eventually it did. It was a very tiny one with fresh mangrove leaves on it. The bird grasped it at the end of its beak and then flew off to present it to its mate. I'm guessing she would not be so impressed with his contribution.

I stayed until about 11 am. The sun was full most of the day with some slight hazy clouds passing through now and then. I never took the flash out and simply adjusted my exposure between pelican and egret. I find that about 2/3 or 1 stop difference between the two does the trick.

Egret photos will come with the next post, in the meantime enjoy the pelicans.

Mangroves and Birds

2011-01-10T20:12:00.008-05:00

One of my favorite places to photograph wading birds is on Biscayne Bay, in calm waters and during early sunlit hours. That's when the rising sun casts a gentle glow on the browns, golds and greens of the mangroves and the reflections cover the calm shallow waters. In those waters, several species of wading birds can been seen, white ibis, tricolor, nightcrown and little blue heron, and the great white and great blue and yellow footed snowy egret. Sometimes, other types of birds show up. In the winter the gulls (ringed billed included) appear in large quantities, as they were yesterday morning.

I paddled out of the canal at the Matheson marina at 7:30. Low was about that time and the north wind was relatively calm as a paddled past the boat ramp where several powerboats were launching. Soon I could see the shallow grasses adjacent to the deep channel. Silhouetted by the sun, I noticed dozens of little bird bodies scattered about and one or two larger long neck types. I paddled around the flat to get into frontlighting on the birds and watched several hundred gulls resting and leisurely floating in the water. Among them were a handful of ibises and one or two blue herons. I found a good spot but repelled most of the birds that flew to a slightly further point from me and my boat. Some of the ibises flew away to greater distances. The birds were facing the north winds, meaning they were not facing me. Not ideal.

There were a few white ibises that were busily catching food. They made nice subjects as the wind rustled their clean white feathers. Always a favorite bird of mine to photograph, I try to capture a captivating moment, as I have so many photos of ibises in similar poses. But always looking for the one special shot, I stayed with them for awhile. A black bird landed and splashed around a bit. That was something new for me here and the lighting was very nice. I changed my compensation from white bird to black bird and rifled off a few shots before the bird flew off.

A tricolor heron came into the picture and soon, I was harrassing it all along the shoreline. If given a choice among my subjects today, it would be the tricolor heron. It offers a greater variety of movements, often times spreading its wings and shuffling around the water. Not as dynamic as the reddish egret, it does have a pattern of movement that gives you lots of variations in poses, especially at 5 fps. Like the little blue, the tricolor appeared to get use to me and got quite close. It was very challenging keeping the skinny necked bird in focus as it moved through various colors of well lit mangrove roots and darker shadows of mangrove leaves.

Eventually, the sun and water were getting too high. Content with my morning photos, I paddled into the creek where my fishermen friends had been searching for snapper. They spotted a woodstork back in there (not exactly the snapper they were looking for). I once saw 4 woodstorks on the bay, a couple years ago in December. I paddled to where they saw the bird today and although I did not find the wood stork, I did watch a racoon hustling from one mangrove root piling to another. I also spotted several yellowcrown nightherons, both adults and juvys hiding out in the roots.

So today, the main focus was on the birds surrounded by impressionist mangrove reflections. Another perfect Biscayne day.

Out of the canoe and on the trail

2010-12-22T16:22:00.008-05:00

Only about 2 or 3 times a year do I get to the Anhinga trail. It lacks the solitude of being in the canoe, but I do love the bird and gator activity that can be seen up close and personal. I like coming here primarily for one reason, I can experiment with and practice taking bird portraits. I rarely get that opportunity in a canoe. What am I saying, I never get that opportunity. On the anhinga trail, you can get so close to a cormorant that you can outline your reflection in its cyan eyes. And let's not forget the vultures. With plenty of them around, they are excellent subjects. With the right light they have a twinkle in their brown eyes, it's irresistible.

The cormorants were the subject of the day for me. Many anhingas had begun nesting, but none were in good light or position to be photographed today. I spent time with the cormorants who were mostly obliging. On the trail, there are some challenges to photographing even a very cooperative bird. First, the wood fence that gets in the way. It casts shadows and often prevents you from getting a good angle. The other challenge is background. The tall saw grass is a beautiful background with the morning sun, if you can get it. Lighting is also a challenge in the morning. On the paved trail, you have to shoot at a sharp angle toward the water for instance.

And then there is the depth of field issue that comes with close ups. Today, I wanted speed, so I settled with low dof, at f5.6. I went for the preening cormorant pose and tried to capture it as the bird's head, beak and feathers were all on the same plane of view so as to get it all in focus.

I spent less than 2 hours on the trail, but enough to make me want to go back there sooner than later. But first, we have our upcoming new years eve everglades trip. Hoping to spend some quality time with the white pelicans near Turkey Key. In the meantime, here are some photos from the Anhinga Trail.

Miami has Biscayne Bay

2010-12-12T13:11:00.008-05:00

I can't say it enough, but every time I am on the bay I feel so lucky to live in Miami. I curse the daily commute to and from work with the constant highway construction, the second worse airport in the country and the high cost of living. But at 7:30 am on a Saturday morning, I can't think of any other place in the USA I want to be as I paddle the bay waters under clear skies, and cool but calm breezes. And the bonus, I live only 20 minutes away. From Deering launch site I paddled out as the incoming tide begun. A few egrets were wading, but mostly I saw gulls and pelicans flying about. The sun was well over the horizon by the time we were on the water, but the coolness of the air made this a very pleasant morning on the water.

I wasn't sure what to expect, I rarely get out on Biscayne Bay in the winter, maybe once or twice. Two years ago in December, I captured photos of woodstorks and a portuguese man-o-war. I wondered what I would see today. I hoped to find the gulls concentrated at the sponge farm sticks, always a fun photo opp. But as I paddled past Deering Estate, the northwesterly winds became more evident. This meant that if birds were landing and taking off from the sticks, it would be in a direction away from me, at least for frontlighting.

I paddled along and noticed several wading birds near the shoreline that runs past the estate. A tricolor heron and great white egrets were scattered about, but none would let me close enough. I continued on and headed toward the sponge farms. There seemed to be many more wading birds taking advantage of the low tide near the channel that passes Chicken Key. Once there, many cormorants were seen flying and swimming. On the other side of the channel was a large flat that contained probably 10-15 great white egrets and about as third as many great blue herons. The area is large enough that no two birds had less than 100 feet between them.

By now the northwest winds were stiff. This is a problem for several reasons today. First, it makes staying still very difficult. I paddled as close to one bird as possible and once staked out, I had to allow my boat to move with the wind, often with bad results. Second, the wind was strong enough that the water was disrupted with ripples, giving the background and foreground too much noise. And third, given the direction of the winds, any bird taking off or landing would be doing so with its back feathers toward me. Case in point, see next photo. For all intents and purposes, this is a successful shot, good exposure, good sharpness and dof, and the background is fine. But, I don't want tail feathers, I want eye contact!

When I started photographing animals, I learned almost immediately that there are 3 requirements of a good photo: clean background, good lighting and interesting subject. A good or excellent photo should have all three of these; perhaps not in equal proportions, but each should be evident. What does Biscayne Bay have to offer regarding these 3 qualities?

Background. The mangrove leaves and roots are an excellent background to white birds, hands down. Where it gets difficult is when the water is so low that grass covers the surface or when the winds, like today, stir up the water. I look for areas close to the shoreline where the wind may have less effect and where calm waters reflecting the mangrove colors offers a beautiful setting. Today, I had messy waters to work with, lots of grass and wind-created ripples. I attempted to overcome that limitation by taking advantage of the pastel-colored reflections of the condominium buildings (I'd much rather they were not there). I waited for a white egret to wade into the reflection. I almost managed it as seen here.

Good lighting. This time of year, light between 7-8 am is optimal, 8-9 am is quite nice, 9-10 am is adequate. After 10 am, not so good, at least for frontlit shots. That's when I try to get creative and go for the backlit or high key shots. The sponge farm sticks have been an interesting subject for this. I played around with that scene where many cormorants were congregating. Very few gulls were around, but that was fine because the cormorants are good subjects most of the time. I set the aperture at f22 and went for it. Here is one result where I converted the end product to grayscale and added an artistic filter. For this type of shot, I would want all the birds to be displayed against the sky and more interesting posing such as wing spreads. I would also want that empty log in the middle out of the photo. Unfortunately, the birds often do not cooperate with us.

Interesting subject. This is the primary reason for me having fewer and fewer "keepers" among my photo collection. At the beginning, every shot was a keeper because every shot was new to me. Now a days, I limit my keepers to those shots that have a certain interest to them, something different perhaps. Birds in a wing spread pose, catching or eating a prey, or interacting with other birds are sought after photos. But even these shots can be most unattractive with cluttered background (other birds interfering, out of focus branches in the foreground, man made structures, etc) or bad lighting. Thus, I attempt all three qualities at the very least. Today, I found a couple little blue herons that were fairly cooperative by letting me get close enough for a short period of time when I had good lighting. I like these birds in the mangrove reflections and I've been successful with some good shots of them. Here are 3 taken today. I like the first one with both birds in the frame and both in relatively good focus because they are at about the same focus plane. Having 2 birds in the frame adds some quality to the photo. Also, the background is not bad and provides balance to the composition. The second one has some interest with the wings spread, but the face appears a bit dark. I would prefer the bird had turned its head slightly to its right. The third is a classic pose, one I have captured many times. However, there is no bait fish in beak, rendering this photo as one among many (every bird has a common pose). But, I still like it and didn't mind the ripples in the water as it seemed to add some dynamics to the photo.

As far as photos taken today, none was considered a "keeper", meaning I will not delete these, but will likely not use them for any thing else (prints, contests). Here's an egret with a lizard fish. I cropped out a significant amount to give it a cleaner appearance. Such is photography from a canoe.

Out of the canoe and onto the trail

2010-12-05T18:57:00.004-05:00

A few weeks ago, I was in the Big Cypress forest helping the with the Florida Trail Association's trail maintenance. The majority of the area is slash pine. I brought my camera and tripod expecting to get out at sunrise and capture some scenes. The problem was that I could not find an ideal setting for the sunrise. So, I improvised and tried to capture some of the pine trees in various lighting and compositions. I also wanted to show some of the trail and waited until the morning sun was bright before doing that. Also captured a photo of rat snake on the trail. Here are a few photos from that weekend.

Choko Bay at low tide

2010-12-05T16:43:00.012-05:00

After our first camping trip of the season last week, it felt good to go out for a day trip in Chokoloskee Bay. No camping gear to haul, just the weight of my cameras and me and a few other odds and ends. Last week, I spent the day in Gopher Creek (see previous blog) on a cloudy, rainy day photographing birds. Today, not a cloud was seen in the sky. And it was chilly, low 50s upon arrival (about 7:30 am), but warmed up nicely to mid 70s by late morning. Winds out of the northeast were a bit more than I wished for, made the photography more challenging in this bay.

The low was scheduled at 8 am, and it was a negative one with the new moon. This is a good and bad thing. The bad is that lots of oyster shell mounds are exposed and can easily scrape the bottom of my boat as I attempt to get close to the wading birds that feed on those shell mounds. And that's the good news, there are plenty of birds around. Nothing exotic today, no roseates, no oyster catchers; but plenty of white ibises, gulls and white pelicans.

I paddled toward the pelicans where they were congregating in their usual spot. At first, there were only a dozen, give or take on the shell island, and they were quite wary of me, more than usual. I had little choice as to where I could paddle toward the birds, given that I was trying to get the sun behind me for optimal lighting. I paddled as close as possible, hearing the annoying screeching noise across the the boat haul. I couldn't get any closer while sitting in the boat, so I staked out and got out. My presence became more looming for the birds, now I was standing much taller than them. One by one, the got into the water and moved farther away. I attempted to walk the shell mound but they were moving away with every attempt I made to get closer.

I walked back to the boat and walked it out of the shallowest area before getting back in. I decided to try my luck at some other birds. One small mound was covered with royal terns and cormorants. The cormorants booked as soon as I began my approach. The terns took off too, but unlike the cormorants, they circled around and came back. Such are the gulls and terns, they seem to mind humans the least of all the birds. Ibises and brown pelicans come in a far second in that regard. The ibises ability to tolerate humans or a human with a boat varies, depending on their mood. I noticed a few of them at a near by mound, so I headed there. Once about 150 ft away, it became shallow enough that I could put the paddle down and manuever forward with one foot on the ground. I don't mind doing this because it gives me a lower profile, less movement and noise. I stopped whenever the birds took noticed. They stop feeding and stand erect, looking and listening. If I remain still, they go back to feeding in a few seconds. Finally, they allowed me to get quite close. They were busy, seems the morning breakfast was lizard fish. One after another, I watched each ibis catch and eat a fish.

I looked around and noticed that more white pelicans had joined the other group, that were by now back on their shell mound. I headed back. Water levels were higher now, so I had more room to get around and there was no need to get out of the boat now. The northeast winds were stiff, and never did I feel the need to take my jacket off. In fact, I felt a bit chilled most of the morning despite the full sun. The pelicans were now in great number, I estimate about 70 of them. I noticed a few flying in and flying out. About half of them were in the water. Now I could attempt to photograph them as I approached as close as possible, probably no more than a 200 ft. The sun was too high for my taste, but I'd take what I could get.

I noticed in the distance a great flock of turkey vultures swirling around. This is not unusual, but what is interesting is that they fly around, but never land anywhere. Then all of a sudden I noticed several of them above me. Hey, I'm not dead yet! I watched them for awhile. They were low enough that I thought I would attempt some shots. I metered off the sky and compensated about +1. The sun was shining down, illuminating the tips of the great birds feathers, a pleasing sight. Now I noticed more and more vultures. It was a path that they seemed to be taking from the southwest heading toward Chokoloskee Island behind me in the northeast. They kept coming and coming. On a few occasions, all of a sudden I noticed white pelicans among them, only flying lower right above me. Awesome sight!

Finally, the vulture show stopped and I put away the camera. I decided to paddle around for awhile. I came upon my fishing friends and hung with them for awhile. The incoming tide was very strong, especially through some narrow passages between oyster mounds.

At about 11:30 I headed back to the marina. On the numerous pilings were brown pelicans, herring gulls and royal terns. The sun was directly overhead, so what was I thinking. I thought I would experiment with some backlighting and fill flash. I didn't know what to expect, but I have seen some amazing photos of backlit birds. So I gave it a shot since the birds were landing toward me. If I got lucky, I would capture a tern or gull with wide open wings, backlit all around. I set the flash between +2 and +3 and went for it. Well, they didn't turn out as good as I would like, but considering the conditions, it was a good experiment.