The greatest of egrets

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

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

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

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

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

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.