The photographs from my two previousposts were both taken while I was doing owl surveys and waiting for the sun to set (with camera at the ready, of course). So I thought I’d post an image of what we were out there looking for.
I don’t shoot a lot of wildlife, but I simply could not resist filling up a memory card while watching this owl hunt for rodents under the thick, spring snow. It was amazing to watch him (or her, I’m not sure) listening from the tops of these small aspen trees before swooping down and diving feet-first into the snow after his prey. I had the pleasure of watching from a distance for over an hour before he finally gave up, or got full, and slowly moved off.
I recently received a request from a woman to use this photograph in a blog post she’s writing, which gave me the great excuse to re-visit this image and to share it here (it hasn’t made it into the new website yet, but watch for it in the Birds section of my catalogue, hopefully in the next few months).
I took this photo near the Beaverhill Bird Observatory near Tofield, AB in the spring of 2007. At the time, I was experimenting with defocusing images, or portions thereof, for creative effect. In this case, the original image was mostly sharp, and I “painted in” the blurred effect in post-processing. I was inspired to try this technique by another photographer who would create the same effect in the darkroom by spilling chemicals over the drying print and using a brush or sponge to blur the image.
It’s always fun to try new techniques, and although I haven’t taken many defocused photographs lately, you can view a selection of these images in my “Boreal Impressions” portfolio. I’d also recommend having a look at William Neill’s “Impressions of Light” portfolio for more great blurry images that were an inspiration to me (although he achieves the effect mostly through long shutter speeds and camera movement, rather than manually defocusing the lens).
It’s been a wintry couple of days in the Edmonton area, but these bison don’t seem to mind it. I took this photograph out at Elk Island Park recently, and I love how the fresh snow is just lying on top of the large bison. I had the good fortune of being able to watch a small herd slowly moving along and grazing through the snow for about an hour before they moved further off into the trees.
I made a lot of images of the herd, but I was surprised when I got home and could look at the photos large on my computer, how many times there were stray pieces of grass in front their faces — not necessarily ruining the shot, but definitely distracting. I guess it makes sense — the bison spent almost the entire time grazing with their heads just above the ground, and the dried grass was often over half a meter high. It’s just interesting how, while I was there, my brain could ignore the visual distractions, but at home, the light yellow-brown slashes against the deep, dark brown really stood out. Something to watch for next time…
P.S. I hope you like the “new and improved” larger in-post images starting with this entry. As always, you can click an image to view it full-screen. Enjoy!
I was walking the Waskahegan Trail though the Ministik Lake Game Bird Sanctuary a couple days ago (Oct 5th, to be precise), and came across this pair of swans. While it’s fairly common to see migrating Tundra Swans flying (and honking) overhead in flocks this time of year, I am pretty sure these are the much less common Trumpeter Swan — but I would really appreciate if someone more familiar with Trumpeters could confirm (or contest) my ID. These two birds were on Bray Lake, right in the middle of the sanctuary, and were there when I first passed the lake, and still there later in the afternoon on my way back. This is what I love about Ministik — there’s always something new to see, you just have to get out there and look for it.
I don’t normally photograph much wildlife (I don’t have the long lenses and patience usually required), but I couldn’t resist this little bird (a Yellow-rumped (or Audubon’s) Warbler) that I watched feeding along a small mountain stream for nearly a half hour. It was very early in the season and there had been a little snow overnight so the air was cool and damp, and the insects this bird was after were moving really slowly. He would perch on these willow saplings over the creek, turning his head to watch and then dart out to grab his meal from the air or the underside of a new leaf. It was a lot of fun to watch, and — employing the time honoured, fine-art, “shotgun” approach to composition — I filled up a good portion of my memory card trying to get just the right shot.
I know this photograph breaks a couple “golden rules” of composition — you’re not supposed to centre your subject (rule of thirds) or have the subject looking out of (rather than into) the frame. But I think it works this way (I even cropped in a little from a more “traditionally” framed shot). I think the shadowed area in the top-left balances the light, empty area at the bottom, and for me, the bird’s out-of-frame gaze gives a bit of the feeling that he’s just about to leave the frame himself (which in fact he did). Let me know what you think — just click below to add your thoughts. Thanks!
I have been settling into a new routine, having started a new work contract in the new year, and part of this routine often includes walking through Edmonton’s beautiful Whitemud Ravine during my lunch break. The chickadees in this park have become accustomed to humans, and will come in close to see if you’ve brought them anything. I couldn’t resist taking a couple photos of them, and the ones I liked best were always just before they took off. I set a high enough shutter speed to catch the details of their feathers, and hoped for the best. Whenever I tried to catch one as it took off, I got a picture of a bare branch — I was too slow. By the time I could react, the bird was gone. I had to watch through the viewfinder and wait until I thought the bird was going to jump. Let’s just say it’s a good thing I’m shooting digital…
Here’s another short video clip of this porcupine I came across while out photographing along the North Saskatchewan River in the Strathcona Science Park. He (or she) was pretty small, maybe about the size of a beach ball, and was not going anywhere – if I moved too suddenly he’d pause from his eating, but he never left his spot. It’s hard to imagine how a porcupine can get enough nutrition out of the dried grass and seeds that he’s eating here to be able to survive the kind of cold that we’ve been getting lately, but I guess they do.
You can push the fullscreen button (four outward arrows at the bottom-right of the video) to view it larger, or follow the link to watch a high-definition version at vimeo.com.
