I found this snowy owl perched along a forgotten fence line north of Lyalta (which is east of Calgary). After a trek across the field to get to about 60 meters away, I leaned against a post and waited. I set my exposure so that I would have a slower shutter speed at the start. I wanted to show some motion in the wings and estimated that 1/200th of a second would allow for that. Fifteen minutes later something drew his attention and he launched perpendicular to me and the fence.
I had two nice images of him flying towards the sun before he was past me. The first had a soft blur in the wings as they were near level. The other caught the wings at their full extension upwards. Both images kept the head sharp so luck played to my hand when I was panning with the bird. The shutter speed worked out well. I continue to try slower speeds but have yet to nail one of those with a sharp face. I will share those when I do.
A couple of years ago I watched this owl hunting in the snow west of Bragg Creek. It was a relatively warm day for March and this great gray was active for a long while before launching off of a fence post and flying upwards to this skeletal tree. I liked how the eyes are locked on the landing spot in this image. The overcast sky and bare branches suited the gray feathers backlit against the clouds.
There are a lot of photographs from the summer and earlier which I have not found a way to share to date. I’m going to try using the Flashback Friday theme to publish some of these. I thought I’d start with a morning in July spent watching one of the great gray owls in Bragg Creek hunting in a field.
Just after 7 o’clock, I spied this owl on the forest edge, perched in a tree overlooking the field. I set up my tripod and long lens in time to catch her fly low over the grass.
This owl is one of a pair that have raised chicks in the same place for several years. The other parent was likely minding the chicks in the nest hidden back in the forest. So, the owl was busy crisscrossing the field, hunting for breakfast.
The summer sun rises early so it was fairly high by this time. The owl flew in and out of the sunlight and the shadows throughout the morning. That afforded some good opportunities to photograph that contrast.
After a half an hour, the owl was fairly close to me and I was surprised when she flew in my direction and alighted on the fencepost right in front of me. She stayed there for almost 15 minutes before resuming the hunt. A very special moment where I felt some level of connection – maybe an acceptance of my presence – that still makes me smile.
Here she flew off, dove into the grass, came up empty and returned to the same perch. A robin joined the line on this second sitting. The birds paid little attention to one another and the owl soon flew away.
I found a small marsh as the day moved towards evening. There were a few blackbirds, shovelers and other ducks swimming around the pools between the tall grass. This mallard circled overhead twice and then surprised me by landing in the middle of the grass. I expected the water would be preferred but I don’t know enough about these birds to pretend to know anything at all. I was very happy to be surprised and she looked amazing as she flared her wings to land.
I took advantage of a Red-winged blackbird’s interest in me and photographed it among the reeds on the edge of the third of the Vermilion Lakes. There were several blackbirds calling one another and flying between perches. They would flit between the little islands of long grass on the lake, the trees hanging over the water and the bushes that filled in the shoreline.
This one came closer and stayed longer than the others which gave me a few good moments to photograph.
On the first day I was in the Palouse earlier this year, I found a great horned owl haunting an abandoned farmstead near Colfax.
My friends photographed the rolling hills and fields while I waited for the owl to fly. Over the course of an hour or so her started up in a broken metal structure, flew over to a green field, returned to the farmhouse and alighted at the weather vane nearby. At one point she met up with her mate in another field before leaving him when he stepped into the taller grass. She hunted successfully twice but she was just out of sight both times. I loved the even lighting from the overcast sky coupled with the varied scenes that she went through while I was there.
A visit east included a short visit to the Tillebrook Provincial Park. A few American robins were hunting the trees for winter berries. The branches split up the sunlight and shadows into shafts and streaks that the birds danced through.
As spring takes hold, you can find ducks busy wherever there is water. Whether it is at a lake still mostly covered with ice or a pond that is not much more than a puddle in a field, a male and female pair are often there paddling, wading, fishing or cleaning. I found this couple in a shallow depression where snow melt had collected. The light was warm gold and I thought they looked absolutely beautiful.
As I slowed down, I flushed them into the air. I was disappointed in myself as I’d prefer to wait until they chose to fly on their own accord. Still, it was a transitory location for them and one that was close to the roadside so I didn’t carry too much concern away with me after watching them launch and head away.
I was excited to find tundra swans on a small pond west of Mossleigh last weekend. The bird migrations north are underway and these are among the most elegant of the travelers. As sunset approached, small bevies of swans took flight so I had several opportunities to photograph their takeoffs where they run along the water as they gather speed before lifting into the air. On one of these launches, I dropped the shutter speed to 1/20th of a second and panned with a pair in order to blur the background and their wings. I find swans in motion to be beautiful and I always think of ballet choreography when I watch them.
I started a morning last weekend watching a snowy owl. When she had a long yawn, that seemed like a good sign to keep moving. I left the napper and headed along a range road which ran due north. After a few miles, this owl popped into view as it flew out from behind a small bush.
Happily, it wasn’t too upset by the disturbance and landed about 100 metres to the east. I took a few photos from the roof of my car and then pulled out my longest lens (500mm) and the monopod as it felt like I had time before he might start hunting again.
That started a great 90 minute stretch where I was able to move into good positions (the owl, me and the sun in a line) a couple of times while he hunted across the field. There was a lot of preening, listening and looking around (and the occasional glance my way) in between the three flights he made while I was there.
He flew back to the road, and directly past me, on the first flight and landed where a slight rise afforded a view in both directions. He stayed pretty alert and it did not take very long before a target was found.
The owl flew a very short distance and then dropped on the far side of the road. He grabbed a small mouse that was beneath the snow but not safe from this accomplished hunter.
He finished second breakfast and flew back close to the roadside perch. The light was amazing and lit up the golden eyes.
More than an hour later he flew across the field away from me and I headed home.
A couple of days ago I spotted this bald eagle balanced atop a telephone pole. He was watching a small conspiracy of ravens gathered on a snow pile on the edge of a field in Springbank.
After a few minutes his curiosity seemed to get the best of him and we launched towards the group. He spiralled above them for a moment but must not have seen anything too appealing as he landed on another telephone pole instead of amongst the ravens.
Maybe it was just to have a closer look before deciding. Either way he decided not to stick around for long and flew a couple of hundred metres away and into a stand of trees isolated in middle of the field.
The photograph above of the snowy owl in flight was taken late in the morning on February 11th. This flight followed a long wait after some good early action. The wait started with a feather cleaning session on an entrance gate which was interrupted by the approach of this truck which prompted the bird to fly to a more isolated spot.
When the vehicle drew too close for the owl’s liking, she launched and flew along the fence line towards the sun.
She didn’t go too far – landing on a post roughly 100 metres away.
We were separated from the owl by a fence line of our own which ran parallel to hers and they were about 80 metres apart. That distance was just fine for me and with a 500mm lens made the subject a reasonable size in the frame. From where I was, the sun angle and the background were both far from ideal. I walked along the fence line and found a new location which allowed for improvements in both areas. I kept moving around now and then to change the scene. The owl did not – she settled in and did not leave the post for a long time. There was no way to know at that point, but it would be 2 hours and 38 minutes before the snowy would return to the air.
The potential for a special moment – maybe a dive close to our line or a flight with the sunlight catching her eyes – kept eyes glued on her and fingers resting on the shutter buttons. At a few different points, a drift of snow buntings buzzed past the owl as they flew to different spots around the field to forage. For her part, the owl watched these comings and goings with minimal interest. For me, these sorties were welcome bits of action.
Along the way there was more preening, dozing and the occasional stretch. The one below seemed like a yoga position and was one that she held for several seconds. Maybe this was all a part of her morning meditation?
Just before noon, the wings opened and she pulled her body down into a crouch. She paused for a second and then pushed off into the air.
The snowy flew along her fence line which allowed for a few nice photographs before she passed us, crossed the road and landed in the snow near the top of a small rise that was a couple of hundred metres away. My fingers were aching from the cold so this was one of the rare times where I was no longer interested in continuing to shoot. I was happy to get in the truck and get the heat going.