Common Loon at Camp Nakamun, Alberta.

A mating pair of Common Loons.

I have had the pleasure of going to Camp Nakamun four times now.  Both my kids, Josh and Leanne, have worked there.  My son found his love there and was married there.  Besides all that, it just happens to be a great place to visit.

Wherever I am, I always have my camera in hand and look for an opportunity to get some photos.  One of my visits there was in early summer.  There is an abundance of water birds present at this time.  This includes an assortment of ducks, grebes, sandpipers, and at least one breeding pair of common loons.  Many of the birds seem somewhat acclimatized to people as they let me approach closer than what would otherwise be possible. 

I have photographed loons in a number of places, but have never had the opportunity to get as close as I did here.  What was great was that, as I approached, they seemed to be without concern as they paddled along in front of my kayak.  Once at a decent distance, I just waited.  They eventually swam right in front of me. 

The photo you see above is not cropped to facilitate an enlargement.  It was pretty much that way in my viewfinder.  Keep in mind though I used an APS-C sensor sized DSLR with a 150-600 mm lens on zoomed all the way out.  So the relative focal length was 900 mm, which is approximately equivalent to a magnification of 18x.  I made a 16x20 inch print of it and donated it to the camp.

 I love to sit quietly and watch when nature shows up.  Sometimes you have to go out of your way to find it, other times it just happens in front of you.  Loons are remarkable birds.  They are one of the few species of flying birds that have solid bones instead of hollow ones.  This makes them denser than their relatives and gives them the ability to dive to remarkable depths.  Loons also have their feet set farther back than most other waterfowl, a fact which further facilitates their swimming prowess.  It also explains why you usually don't see them on land; for them, walking is for the [other] birds.

Tracking the illusive ruffed grouse.

Ruffed grouse

I had the pleasure of snowshoeing yesterday by Lake Nakamun, Alberta.  The snow was about eighteen inches deep beside the trail I was on, which fortunately was moderately compressed and easy to walk on.  It was quiet, sunny, and just above freezing.  A beautiful day in a beautiful place. 

Trekking through a woodlot of poplar and aspen trees, I witnessed signs of wildlife everywhere.  Tracks attesting to the presence of rabbit, deer, and coyotes were present, and the songs of various bird species filled the air.  I was about halfway through the journey when movement caught my eye off to my right visual field.  There, on the snow, was a covey of three partridge-like birds.  I managed to get off a photograph of one of them, but the thicket surrounding them rendered the image unusable.  I had to go off-trail if I was to do any better.

Determined to obtain at least one decent image, I headed off in their direction.  The snowshoes disappeared in the soft, white stuff; each step requiring the expenditure of significant energy.  The underbrush was dense enough that each footfall required planning.  Each step brought me closer to my quarry, which suddenly realized that they were being pursued.  The group broke up and I lost visual contact with two of them.

The third one though was still moving, heading up the hill.  It did not have the same problems I was, as its light weight was supported by the snow's surface.  Around some trees, through a thicket, I found the impressions of its footsteps.  I followed them in anticipation of finally getting the image I was hoping for.  Then, the trail disappeared; it just ended in an open patch of snow.

The only explanation was that it had taken to wing.  I did not hear any evidence of that and was surprised by its sudden departure.  Into the open I plodded, disappointed because any chance of achieving my goal had fled with it.  I searched in vain - it could be in a thousand places.  It seemed to me that these birds were not strong fliers; it couldn't have gone far.  So, I stuck to it.  The bird had to be close.

Backtracking, I went to where the bird's trail had ended and looked up.  Not eight feet off the ground the beast was there, watching me as I gazed back at it.  It was clearly a species of grouse, although which one wasn't certain.  I brought my camera up to bear and took a few shots.  Branches occluded much of the body; a change in position was required.  After moving I had a clear shot with minimal obstructions. 

Once my goal was achieved, I set off and reacquired the path I previously left.  The day was as pleasant as ever.  To add to my accomplishment, I later found a white-breasted nuthatch; I posted on that one yesterday.  What a super excursion it turned out to be.

White-breasted nuthatch.

The white-breasted nuthatch

I was out snowshoeing today in Central Alberta, enjoying the sunny skies and warming temperatures, hoping to find something wonderful to photograph.  As I plodded along, an unfamiliar chirping sound became more and more apparent.  I surveyed the area and to my delight, a small bird was busily foraging away.  I recognized it as a white-breasted nuthatch, although I have only ever seen this species once before.  I had to research after getting home to establish that it was a male.

I live in Coastal British Columbia where we only have the red-breasted variety.  They prefer coniferous forests, unlike the white-breasted ones which are found predominately in deciduous forests.  They are mostly permanent residents, but some migrate with the seasons.  Both species have the habit of combing over tree trunks and branches in search of food.  There is always something present in nature's buffet.  Even deep snow and cold weather will not prevent them from finding something to eat.  They will take insects, insect eggs and pupae, seeds, and of course nuts.

They get their name from the manner in which they separate the nut from its shell.  Jamming it into a cleft of a tree they will hammer on it relentlessly until it "hatches."  The released nut is then broken apart with great relish as it is eventually consumed.

I took 32 images of the bird flitting from branch to trunk and back again.  It only stayed in one place for a fraction of a second and then was off again.  I watched for a few minutes and followed it through the canopy until it had moved on.  What a nice break that was from my snowy trek.

What bird is that?

Common tern, photographed at Lake Bellevue, Alberta.

Have you ever looked at a bird and wondered what kind it was?  Not knowing off hand what species it was, you might try to look it up in a bird book.  With almost a thousand possibilities, you will likely feel overwhelmed with choices.  It would certainly help to have some rudimentary avian taxonomic skills, such as knowing the difference between a hawk and a hummingbird.  Even with that, there may be over a hundred species for some bird body types.

A great website to visit is whatbird, a free, user friendly resource which allows you to input observations to cull the implausible and isolate the probable.  Typically selecting two or three options will reduce the number of choices to only a few.  In the image above, the inset shows the resulting query using three identifiers.  Of the options given, the Arctic tern (1), the Caspian tern (5), the Common tern (6) and Forester's tern (7) are the likely candidates just from a visual inspection.

The next step then is to eliminate ones that don't quite match the actual bird.  It helps to have as much information as possible, which is why I like to have a picture.  This is where you start using the limited choices to make a determination.  Clicking on each of the viable possibilities brings up a new tab with specific information on that bird.  You can remove birds one at a time by observing specific details.

Notice the black tip at the end of the bird's red bill.  This removes the Arctic tern as a possibility because its bill is a single colour.  The red feet tells us it is not a Caspian tern, which has black feet.  This leaves both Forester's tern and the Common tern as likely candidates.  The black hood on Forester's tern is a little longer at the rear and it touches the beak at a slightly different angle.  The difference is subtle.  The distribution map shows that the Common tern inhabits a wider area than the Caspian tern does, although they both are present where the image was taken.

Based on the information available, I would say it is a Common tern.  I shot this image a couple of years ago and do not remember the behaviours associated with it at the time.  This would be useful in verifying the conclusion.

There is also an app for your phone or iOS device.  The app I-bird ultimate is $19.99 and the pro version is $14.99 at the time of this writing.  For android only the pro version is available at a price of $18.99.  All prices are in US dollars.  You can also get a free version with fewer features.

I rely on a number of sources when trying to identify a bird.  I have a number of bird books, I also use whatbird and will ask other knowledgeable types what their opinion is.  I often will read up on other facts about the critter as it quenches my curiosity even further.

If you are interested in learning how to photograph birds, consider getting a copy of my book, "Photography for Birders and other wildlife enthusiasts."

www.ericspix.com

When genetics go awry.

Teenage mutant ninja duck.

His name is Raphael, and he is a teenage mutant ninja duck.  The feathered vigilante patrols the local park, keeping his fellow creatures safe from the vagaries of crim-animals.  The red mask gives anonymity, the battle scared wing divulges the fearless tenacity which its owner bears.  No predator would dare disturb the pond and its inhabitants while he is present.

Normally Raphael basks in the sunshine, watching his furred and feathered friends frolicking about the garden.  Everything is peaceful; the humans arrive with goodies paying homage to the inhabitants.  The flock gathers.  Anticipation is palpable.  The daily ritual of  the "feeding of the birds" begins.

The squirrels descend from their lofty heights.  Although they are not the intended recipients of this benevolence,  they benefit from the generosity of these strange upright visitors.  An occasional tidbit is thrown their way, and they are only too happy to pounce on the tasty morsel.  There is enough for everyone.  The tempo of mayhem starts to pick up as more of the park's inhabitants arrive for the buffet.  Soon it will all be gone, and there is a growing sense of panic.

The humans would be overcome with riotous desperation had Raphael not been present.  The pond creatures know their place, and any thought of uprising is quickly smothered.  It only takes a stern look from the red masked duck to stay their paw, wing, and fin.  Order is reestablished.  The feeders do not realize how close they came to succumbing to the moment.  Adrenaline curbed, the gathering disperses as the food disappears.

The humans stare at the odd creature, suspecting genetics had played a cruel trick upon it.  The term "scraggly" seems generous.  Its feet appear as if built from a random assortment of coloured beads.  The damaged wing only adds to the ludicrous visage.  Yet underneath lies coiled muscles of steel and the knowledge of how to wield them.  Raphael, the teenage mutant ninja duck, has saved the unwitting visitors from certain death.  His thoughts as they depart, "Dudes, next time bring a pizza."

  

Histograms and your shot (part 2)

Photos of a male American goldfinch; overexposed, properly exposed, and underexposed.

This shot of an American goldfinch was taken last year when I went on a camping trip with my students that were involved in my photo club.  All three images come from the same RAW file; I processed each one so that the relative exposures were different.  Each image has its associated histogram with it.  The far left image is underexposed by a stop, so half as much light as is required.  The center image represents a proper exposure and the far right an overexposure, again by one stop (double the light).

As was mentioned earlier, the key to working with histograms is to pay attention to trends and not to get bogged down with the details.  Notice the dark values for all three histograms (A, C, and F).  There are a lot of darker values for the underexposed shot than for the overexposed one.  The properly exposed image has some dark values, but they do not represent the majority of the scene.  If the image was naturally dark with some bright areas it would be different, as you would expect to see a greater number of darker values.

The light values for all three histograms (B, E, and G) show a similar, although reversed, trend.  There are very few light values in the underexposed shot, and way too many in the overexposed one.  The properly exposed image has some brighter values, but really not too many.  If this was an image with a lot of whites in it, such as a snow scene, I would expect there to be many bright values.  However, in an average scene, there should not be such a pile up in that corner of the histogram.

The central histogram is properly exposed.  Notice that there are few dark and light values and that the central portion of the histogram contains the bulk of the pixels.  If you see bars of a histogram being shoved to one side or the other, especially with there being a flat, empty area on the other side, your image is very likely improperly exposed.  How do you go about correcting this?  That we will leave for another time.

Histograms and your shot.

Gouldian Finch at the Vancouver Conservatory

I have taken my photography club from school to the Vancouver Conservatory every year.  It is inexpensive and fun, not to mention an education in photographing members of the feathered fellowship.  They have quite a few species of exotic birds there (see link below).  They are well looked after and modestly used to a human presence.  It makes the business of photographing them a little easier.  After all, it is easier to take pics of something not desperately trying to get away from you.  I have seen many people use their cell phones to capture some pretty good images.

The strange little graph in the right upper corner is a histogram.  Chances are you have seen them before, probably in association with pictures on your camera.  Histograms are an empirical way to examine light information on an image.  The histogram here is a gray scale image combining all the coloured information together of the bird photo.  It would be exactly the same if we converted the coloured image to a black and white (gray scale) one.  The left side of the histogram shows the darker shades while the right side shows the whiter shades.  The values progress from completely black on the far left to completely white on the far right.

A histogram is made of 256 little bars.  Each bar represents a shade of gray.  It starts from 0 at the right for white and 255 at the left for black.  Each bar in between those two extremes would be a number; the darker the shade of a pixel the higher its associated number.  The height of each bar tells you how many pixels in the image are made of that particular shade of gray.  You can't really see the bars, and you don't need to.  The trick with histograms is not to get worked up by the insane amount of data, but rather to see the trends within the data. 

There are primarily three trends which you should know.  The overexposed trend, the underexposed trend, and the properly exposed trend.  Each of these is unique in its own right, kind of how a fingerprint is unique for each finger for the whole human population.  Still though there is a certain way that those bars form.  Once you know what you are looking for, the rest is relatively easy.  The great thing about interpreting histograms is that they can help you improve your shots.  A lot.

My next blog will be on the three trends.  It will also be on this same birding blog.

Birds at the conservatory:  https://vancouver.ca/parks-recreation-culture/bloedel-conservatory-exotic-birds.aspx