White crowned sparrows – compensating for back lighting.

White crowned sparrow on a favourite perch.

The white crowned sparrow is a common summertime visitor to Western and much of Northern Canada.  I hear its familiar chirping and see its telltale black and white striped crown on many of my travels.  I spotted this one yesterday near the beach in southeast Washington.  They feed on the ground, taking both seeds and insects.  It is amazing to watch them moving leaf litter; with both feet planted on the offending target, they hurl it backward with a synchronized jerk, unlodging any morsels hiding underneath.

They are not terribly shy.  I often find them perching atop tall plants or trees surveying their kingdom.  Photographing them in this position is often problematic because of backlighting.  Backlighting happens when the background is brighter than the light coming off the subject.  This causes the camera to underexpose the image, leading to a flat, gray background with a dark foreground.  The solution is to compensate for this.  There are three quick methods.

1)  Use exposure compensation.  The +/- button is your exposure compensation button.  Most cameras will have access to this feature either directly through a button, or indirectly through a menu option.  When pressing the button and holding onto it, you can add to or subtract from an exposure by rotating the command dial at the same time.  Some cameras may allow you to press and release the exposure compensation button and then change the setting, then press it again to go back into shooting mode.  The challenge is twofold; first, you have to estimate how much you want to compensate the exposure by.  I find many backlit situations benefit from a +1 setting, although I have gone past +2 on some occasions.  The other issue is forgetting to turn it off after using it.

2)  Use exposure lock.  This handy little feature is often found as a button with EL or FL written on it, allows you to lock your exposure at a predetermined value.  In the case of the sparrow above, lowering the camera so there is little backlighting and holding the button will lock the exposure in.  Reframing you then take the picture.  This has the advantage of not having to estimate what value to use, and it turns off automatically.  This sounds marvelously magical, but the issue is finding an area with lighting similar to the one your subject is in.  This can be a bit of a hunt-and-find methodology.  I pay attention to my viewfinder exposure settings when using this and keep in mind how much extra exposure I need.  If you are not familiar with shutter and aperture values, this makes finding the right balance more difficult.

3)  Using manual exposure mode.  Most people are uncomfortable with manual exposure mode.  In fact, many will set their cameras to full auto or intelligent auto and leave it there.  Although intimidating, manual mode will unlock the potential of your camera if you know how to use it.  There is a steep learning curve, as some knowledge of aperture and shutter speed settings is mandatory, and you have to be comfortable working with changing both those settings manually.  I photographed the white crown sparrow above in manual mode.  The light of the day was unvarying; this meant that I could use the same exposure settings for all my shots unless something changed significantly.  With the flat grey cloud cover, the exposures were consistent.  Also, I use RAW files instead of jpegs, which means I have extra latitude for correction if the exposure is off.  Together they allow me to capture my images with relatively few corrections.

Whichever method you use, compensating for backlighting will improve your photos immensely, especially when shooting jpegs instead of RAW.

Yellow bellied sapsucker

Yellow bellied sapsucker near Chehalis, Washington

One of the reasons I encourage photographers to travel is because there is a myriad of new things and experiences to enjoy.  You don't have to go far, but the benefit of greater distance is an increased chance something unfamiliar will appear.  Birding is a good example of this.  Around my house, there are maybe fifty species of birds, but on any one day, I may see only five or six.  Most of those are the same ones I see each day.  Robins, towhees, crows, juncos, chickadees and song sparrows are the most frequent.  If I travel a few miles from home I stand a better chance of seeing something slightly different.  Herons, blackbirds, eagles, kingfishers, ravens, and pigeons are all frequent sightings.

Out of the city towards the more rural areas less familiar birds start to appear.  Yellow rumped warblers, green herons, golden crowned kinglets, varied thrushes, and red breasted sapsuckers start to show up.  I have seen some of these around my house, but rarely.  The chance of seeing one of these on any day is remote.  So, by traveling modest to significant distances from home, there is a good probability that I will come across something unusual.  It may be commonplace for locals, but for me, it is new and exciting.

At this moment we are camping in Chehalis, Washington.  I go on walks every day; some of them are significant treks.  I have seen a variety of birds, many of them familiar.  Given the fact that I am in the same temperate rainforest with much of the same vegetation as I have at home, I am not too surprised.  However, I came across a yellow bellied sapsucker the other day.  I have never seen that bird at home at all and only ever seen one once before.  The one I came across was a juvenile and did not have its full adult markings.  Still though, it was an exciting moment.

I did not have my DSLR camera with me, as I was shooting insects at the time.  I did, however, have my bridge camera; a Panasonic FZ2500 with a 460 mm (relative) zoom lens.  It actually does a pretty good job given its small sensor, and I managed to capture a dozen or so images before the bird flit off to hunt for a meal elsewhere.  Of those, the best one was the one I chose above.  It required significant cropping and some sharpening before it was useable.  It helped me identify the species, as I was not originally sure what I had just photographed.

I have seen a few other species since then.  I photographed a scrub jay and shot an excellent image of a song sparrow with a beak full of squirming bugs.  We will be leaving in two days, and I hope to come across some other unusual finds before we go.  Better though, we are heading for south Washington's coast where I hope to hit the avian jackpot.  I'll let you know.

Thanks for reading.   www.ericspix.com

The ubiquitous starling.

Sturnus vulgaris:  The European Starling

I was chatting with some young people a few weeks ago about birds, which happens to be a favourite subject of mine.  I brought up the starling in the conversation, and puzzled looks fell upon their faces.  "What's a starling?", they asked.  To me, it was like asking what a robin was, as they are common throughout much of the world.  Here, in Canada, we have loads of them; sometimes they get together in enormous flocks and fill the branches on large deciduous trees.  The sound such a gathering makes can be deafening.

So, here I was, pondering to myself if this was a common occurrence (not the large collection of starlings, but rather the lack of knowledge about them in general).  So, I have taken it on as a mission to inform any readers about this bird.

Starlings were originally native to Europe, including England.  The playwright and poet William Shakespeare (you have heard of him, I hope) included many types of birds in his writings, among them the starling.  Other mentioned species had been released into North America, but all died and none of them became established.  In 1890 a man brought to New York City 60 starlings and released them all.  It was supposed that they too would succumb to the elements as had their other avian friends.  He would be in for a surprise.

Today there are an estimated 200 million of the birds in North America alone.  They have also been introduced to Australia, New Zealand, and can be found in much of the Caribbean.  They have gone as far south as central Texas but no further as they do not do well in the heat.  It is amazing to think that a mere 60 birds have increased to a population of over 200 million in less than 130 years.

Their breeding success has come with numerous consequences.  They are considered an invasive pest because of the harm they cause to other species.  Starlings are cavity dwellers and are very aggressive; they out-compete native species such as the western bluebird for nesting sites resulting in the decline of these and other species.  Further to that is their destructive habits of consuming crops and building nests and defecating in sensitive electronic areas which they can access through fairly small holes.  They travel great distances in search of food and are excellent vectors in the transmission of weeds.

They cause millions of damage to crops every year.  They have wiped out many bird species through competition.  They cause damage to property, increase noise pollution, and leave their droppings in unwelcome places.  What amazes me in all of this was the intention to help others know what a starling in for Shakespeare's sake, and today many have no idea as to what they are.  There is some irony in that thought.

Thanks for reading.   www.ericspix.com

The grey catbird - an oxymoron?

A grey catbird; notice the chestnut coloured undertail feathers.

The grey catbird's name comes from its singular call which, to some, sounds like the meow of a cat.  You can go to this website and click on the songs and calls button to hear it for yourself, but I can't totally agree with the comparison.  However, the joining of two non-related species' names together tends to be a somewhat common practice.  Consider these combinations:  Dogfish, Lionfish, Whaleshark, Grasshopper mouse, Tigershark, Birddog, Batfish, Cowbird, and even the familiar Horsefly.  They are all oxymorons, of a sort, as they combine two common organism names into one moniker.

Some of these seem outrageous.  For example, the grasshopper mouse suggests a small rodent with kangaroo-like legs.  It projects an image of a muscle-bound hurdler which could jump to safety simply with an extension of its hind limbs.  It is, in fact, a small mouse found in Alberta which has a predilection for insects; many of them happen to be grasshoppers.  In fact, much of its diet, over 90%, is carnivorous in nature.  The name, in theory, should give some description of the habits or appearance of its host.

Consider, for a moment, some other possibilities.  What would a woodpecker shark look like or how might it behave?  How about an iguana ant or maybe even something as strange as a penguin worm.  Indeed, you can come up with any combination that you like, and then to really get things going, describe its behaviours and/or appearance based upon the cojoined title.

Let's examine the behaviours of the world famous Snapperclam.  The term snapper relates to a marine fish found on the continental shelves throughout the world.  However, the term refers, in this case, more to the snapping action of the clam when disturbed.  Equipped with tremendously strong abductor muscles that would make scallops blush, the snapperclam lies quietly in tidepools worldwide, with its shell open awaiting incoming prey.  Most clams are filter feeders, but not the snapper, which has developed a vicious feeding behaviour unique to its order.  Unfortunately, beachgoers without protective footwear (preferably steel toed boots) run the risk of having their toes amputated.  Large snapperclams have been seen detaching the entire foot off of dogs which were harmlessly at play.

Here is a real one:  The mantis shrimp.

This, of course, is all fiction.  However; it is easy enough to get carried away with similar animal names.  Consider the sawfish, carpenter ant, and hammerhead shark for example ...

Thanks for reading.   www.ericspix.com

Shooting birds in low light – Swainson’s Thrush

Photographing birds in the shadowlands of the forest has its challenges.  They are numerous because of the vegetative behemoths which dwell there.  Even on a cloud-free sunny day, light has a hard time penetrating the canopy.  White balance tends to be on the cool side.  Then there is the distance problem.

The forest is, in a way, like a high rise apartment building.  Its tenants have preferences for which floor they reside on.  This is especially true for birds, which are not limited to the forest floor, as are many of the building’s inhabitants.  Grouse and towhees are ground dwellers.  They forage on or near the bottom.  Chickadees and woodpeckers require cavities in trees to nest and are typically found mid-level.  Some, like the Swainson’s thrush and Nashville warbler, prefer the upper reaches.

During spring and summer, the Swainson’s thrush can be heard plying its distinctive song throughout its range.  It makes an escalating series of warbling notes, each bar of its melody increasing in pitch while decreasing in volume.  It is quite somber and pleasant at the same time.  You will notice that it always comes from the top of the forest hotel.  The mysterious songster is plainly heard, but not seen.

I have photographed a great many birds over the years, but have never obtained a Swainson’s thrush picture.  Early on a summer’s day, a hike through a woodland will be accompanied by this denizen’s song.  Yet the musician is rarely seen.  Yesterday I was hiking at a park along the shores of Cultus Lake, an area about two hours east of Vancouver.  A thrush-like bird had perched on a branch close to the path I was on.  It was time to bring my camera to bear.  Could this be the elusive bird I have heard so often but never photographed?

The light was abhorrent.  Even at an ISO of 400, I was only getting a shutter speed of 1/20^th of a second.  I had brought my Panasonic FZ2500 along, a bridge camera with a one-inch sensor which allows me to zoom to a relative focal length of 460 mm.  If I had a full frame camera with me I would have chosen a much higher ISO, but the noise generated by the smaller sensor camera at those values becomes quickly untenable.  The camera’s vibration mitigation system was very good though, and I had nothing to lose by trying.

I shot six or seven images.  Even at 1/20^th of a second, the bird was underexposed because of the backlighting.  However, I was shooting in RAW format and I knew there would be some latitude there.  I could also post correct the white balance easily.  The bird cooperated and hardly moved, apparently as interested in me as I was in it.  Our symbiotic fascination served me well.

When I got back to my computer I processed the photos.  I knew I would not have any great images, but as a birder, I love getting a shot good enough to facilitate identification.  And I did, the elusive Swainson’s thrush was my subject.  Most of the images suffered from camera motion blur, but there was one that was quite useable.  Again, it was not something I would print and frame, but I had finally got a shot of this amazing singer.  It was the achievement of a lifetime.

Eastern kingbird feeding chicks

This is one of my favouite photos from last year.

I photographed this last year at the start of our summer holiday.  We were visiting Creston, BC and had gone to visit the bird sanctuary west of the town.  There were lots of birds, but the thing that really caught my attention was the number of nests I found.  The one that stood out the most, in my mind, was the nesting site of the western kingbird pair.  I accidentally discovered the nest by paying attention to a pair of kingbirds.  I noticed that they did not stray far from a certain tree and only later saw the nest.

The nest was empty of chicks; eggs were the only inhabitants.  I got a couple of shots of the mating couple and returned to my explorations.  I came back a few days later and discovered that the nestlings had emerged.  They were very small and vulnerable, hardly able to raise their heads.  No shots of any value were captured on that day.  My next visit was going to produce dramatic results.

The third trip to the sanctuary was awesome.  I arrived early in the morning while the light was still very good.  Approaching the nest with the sun at my back, I had an excellent view of the now stronger chicks.  The bonus was the lack of shadows on my subjects.  I stayed still for quite a while and the birds became acclimated to my presence.  Patience paid off and I got the above photo.  It is the same shot that I use on the cover of my book, Photography for Birders (and other wildlife enthusiasts).  Go to this website to see it. 

I wrote this blog today because I heard faint cheeping noises coming from the nest box in my bird garden.  The breeding pair of chickadees successfully hatched their young in spite of the annoying behaviour of local cats.  I am going to put some chicken wire behind the birdhouse to keep the predators at bay.  As the young get larger I hope to have a few photos of them poking their hungry heads out of the hole to be the first ones to devour whatever delicacies are brought to them.

Thanks for reading.

What's for dinner?

Chickadee and pussycat - what could go wrong?

I love birds. 

In fact, I love them so much that I have built a bird garden in my back yard for them.  Three birdhouses are available as nest sites.  Then there is the arbor, the plants, and the numerous bird feeders.  I thought I had made a small habitat where neighbourhood birds could come and enjoy the bounty, beauty, and boxes designed for them.  I didn't know that, unwittingly, I also designed an entertainment and buffet center for cats.

Every year I have at least one or two pair of birds taking up the hospitality offered and begin raising a family in a birdhouse.  This year a have one pair of chickadees for sure, and possibly a second pair, that have begun the process.  We were out in the garden last night marveling at them coming and going from the nest cavity.  As evening fell they nestled down for the night and we took to our own beds as well.

My dogs are early risers.  The older of the two, Rookie, is motivated by food and is often up at the break of dawn.  The younger one, now just over 7 months, is all about playing with his fuzzy, food-orientated buddy.  At 5:15 this morning (45 minutes ago) they were both up plying me for what their hearts yearned for.  "I want food."  "Play with me."  "I won't play with you until I've had food."  "Play with me."  And so goes the first few minutes of each day.

The rule is, and they know it, that their business had to be attended to first.  We go out, they take care of that, we come in, and breakfast ummies are served.  So, I plodded over to the door and let them out.  As I exited my back door, which exits directly upon my bird garden, I made a horrifying discovery.  A black cat, much like the one in the above photo, was perched atop my arbor.  Immediately in front of it was the same next box which we were watching last night.  It was waiting for something, and it didn't take much imagination to figure what that was.

At that moment I felt a bristling up my back and found my neck hairs standing erect.  If I was a dog, I would have looked like a razorback.  A plethora of ideas on how to deal with this intruder came upon me, and I have to admit to favouring the ones which were towards the violent end of the spectrum.  However, such choices are no doubt frowned upon by local SPCA and police authorities; I needed a less pernicious plan of action.

"Scat," I hissed.  Nothing.  Flailing arms.  No effect.  My dogs didn't see it, although the idea of picking Rookie up and pointing her towards the offending target came to mind.  "Too early," I thought; the neighbours would not approve, especially on a holiday Monday.  Then I saw the garden hose.

Perfect.  Cats hate water, I hate cats (at least this one at the moment).  Sounds like a perfect match.  So, I cranked up the pressure and pointed the wet end towards my intended target.  Unfortunately, there was a kink in the hose somewhere and the anticipated rocket of water never materialized.  Instead a pathetically limp smattering of water was brought forth, and I could only hint that the cat was about to take a bath.  It was enough though, and it turned tail and ran.

Last year I had a cat, or perhaps a raccoon, ransack one of my birdhouses and kill off whatever was in there.  I don't want the same thing this year.  I am going to erect something to keep such pests at bay; I wonder if the SPCA would approve of a howitzer?