Art Morris I Ain’t

Bird photography has always fascinated me and I’ve always been a big fan of Art Morris.  He’s written much on the subject (including the classic, “The Art of Bird Photography”) and he also has his own website (http://www.birdsasart.com/ ).  If you like bird photography, you can go there and subscribe to his “Birds as Art Bulletins” (as I do).  His images are simply amazing. 

So every once in a while I pretend that I can do it too.  Maybe after a couple million more attempts I might actually get in the same universe as Art.  Not yet, though.

Still, this little guy made it fairly easy to try.  My wife has some flowers on our porch and our little friend here visits a few times a day.  The problem, of course, is that he’s a bit unpredictable.  If I’m out there with my camera and a long lens, he doesn’t come.  If I’m not out there, or if my wife is out there alone, he’ll show up.  Heck, he’s even flown within about a foot of my wife’s face.  I figure he’s nearsighted or something and thinks she’s some kind of flower.

But the other morning I got lucky.  I’m just sitting there with my Canon 5D and 70 – 200mm f/2.8 IS lens and there he was.  In this case, 200mm was enough because he was so damn close.  I mean, these guys are really, really small.  Normally, a 200mm lens will make these birds look like a bee or something.

So I just kept firing away.  Most of the shots were garbage, but one or two weren’t  bad.  I chose this one because the entire background around him was white and because the wing and tail feathers have decent detail.  Oh, and because there is a small amount of catchlight in his eye.  Without that, birds can look lifeless.

I will never cease to be amazed at how these things can hover, nearly motionless, while they stick that long skinny beak into flowers.  When you’re close, you can actually hear the wings flapping – it’s like a tiny little electric motor.  And then they’re off like a shot.  Believe me, the Roadrunner’s got nothing on these guys when it comes to speed.

As for the photograph, Art Morris probably would have chucked it.  It’s just a little bit on the soft side.  But I’ll keep trying.  Maybe I’ll get a better one before my friend here heads south.

The Art of Doing Nothing

Sometimes doing nothing is the best possible course of “action”.

We all have those days when virtually everything we do – or try to do – turns to crap.  One disaster follows another.  Even the simplest of tasks turns ugly.  Entropy rules.

There are those who will try to tell you that you should force yourself to fight through these periods.  Giving up, they say, is not only cowardly, it’s the very essence of defeatism.  Real men (and women) fight on.  That’s how character is built.  That’s what separates the movers and shakers from the masses.  You never, ever quit.  Not only do you welcome adversity, you invite it.  You need only believe in yourself and all things are possible.  Success is inevitable.  You WILL win the day.  What does not kill you will make you stronger (Bismarck?).

Blah – blah – blah.  Who comes up with this crap, anyway?  People with oversized egos, that’s who.  People like Napoleon (the architect of Waterloo).  People like Robert E. Lee at Gettysburg (responsible for Pickett’s charge up Cemetery Hill).  People like George W. Bush (“Mission Accomplished”).

There is no shame in withdrawing to fight another day.  When your gut tells you that to continue is folly, by all means listen.  Pay attention to your instincts.  You need not roll over and play dead.  Just pull back from the brink.  Absorb some sunshine.  Rest.  Regroup.  Tomorrow will come.  And along with it, maybe some better choices.

Concentration

There’s a place near Charleston called Magnolia Gardens (an old plantation) and within those grounds is a fairly large park area that’s essentially swamp.  Called the Audubon Swamp Garden, it’s a natural home for all kinds of wildlife.  Birds, snakes, alligators, small mammals – they’re all there.  In the center of the swamp is an area called the Rookery.  As the name implies, it’s a nesting place for birds – mostly large wading birds like White Egrets and Great Blue Herons.  Now, these birds are not unknown here in upstate NY.  When the weather is warm, you can see them at the edge of quiet streams and small ponds looking for a meal.  What strikes me, though, is that it seems that the “northern” versions seem much smaller than the ones I’ve seen down south.

This one, for example, was very large (at least based on my limited experience).  I would guess that this guy was about 5 feet from beak to tail (a very rough guess).  His wingspan had to be well over 6 feet.

It was what happened about 2 seconds after this shot, however, that really amazed me.  After having held this rigid pose for a few long moments, he suddenly struck and came out of the shallow water with an eel about the size of Rhode Island.  It was the speed of the “attack” that surprised me.  I found myself instantly wishing that I’d pressed the shutter button at that exact point in time.  The shutter speed here is about 1/1000 second, but I wouldn’t have been shocked if there had still been some blur (focal length was 600 mm and the aperture was set at f/5.6).  This shot is very ordinary; the one I didn’t get might have been a bit more interesting.  Such is life.

And how do they maintain that frozen concentration for so long?  Most of us humans can’t stay focused on one thing for more than 10 seconds or so.  But then this blue heron has probably never even heard of “multitasking”.  Just focus on one thing at a time and get it done.  Maybe we should elect this guy to congress in 2010……