Anyone who has read my posts before will know I'm a good old fashioned birdeer, who loves nothing more than being out in the field, immersing himself in nature, learning fieldcraft, doing all the fun things with limited technology.
Recently, I've discovered the wonders of a digital camera, and discovered how addictive bird photography actually is. Not that I'm any good at it, mind, but its damned good fun.
Anyway, last week I heard of a flock of 20 arctic terns found feeding at one of my reasonably local patches (only a 15 minute drive away- very local!!) Work commitments meant I couldn't get there for a few days, and by the time I did, I was armed only with binos and my trusty camera. I had been told that the terns were feeding on flies from the surface of the loch, swirlign and swooping. Squinting through my binos, I saw, just, distant white shapes, swooping and swirling. But, to be fiar, they could have been anything. More in hope than epectation, I managed to take a dozen or so photographs of the scene.
On one of them, the last shot I took, a lovely arctic tern showed itself, soaring upwards, its tail shown in perfect and unmistakeable detail.
A lifer for me, my celebration was tempered slightly by the fact I relied on a photograph to see it. Glad, though, and I'll take the tick and the guilt.
Recently, I've discovered the wonders of a digital camera, and discovered how addictive bird photography actually is. Not that I'm any good at it, mind, but its damned good fun.
Anyway, last week I heard of a flock of 20 arctic terns found feeding at one of my reasonably local patches (only a 15 minute drive away- very local!!) Work commitments meant I couldn't get there for a few days, and by the time I did, I was armed only with binos and my trusty camera. I had been told that the terns were feeding on flies from the surface of the loch, swirlign and swooping. Squinting through my binos, I saw, just, distant white shapes, swooping and swirling. But, to be fiar, they could have been anything. More in hope than epectation, I managed to take a dozen or so photographs of the scene.
On one of them, the last shot I took, a lovely arctic tern showed itself, soaring upwards, its tail shown in perfect and unmistakeable detail.
A lifer for me, my celebration was tempered slightly by the fact I relied on a photograph to see it. Glad, though, and I'll take the tick and the guilt.
