June 2024 Viewfinder
Summer is here in black and white in this month's Opposite View Wildlife Photography newsletter.
It must be summer. Glastonbury is winding up, the England football team are struggling in the Euros, the weather is warm and wet, and I am becoming increasingly obsessed with walking at the coast.
This newsletter was supposed to be about badgers. I planned to describe the badger watch I went on with the Scottish Wildlife Trust on Thursday evening. I intended to complain about the wet and windy weather but also delight you with anecdotes of mustelid antics and share an image of the outing, whatever the quality.
Spoiler alert: I won't be doing any of these things. Unfortunately, after arriving at the Scottish Wildlife Trust Visitor Centre at New Lanark, my stomach cramps and grumbles reached a point where I had to admit defeat. No walking to watch badgers for me. Instead, a journey home that included me vomiting into a carrier bag while my partner rubbed my back (yes, he is as lovely as he sounds) and did everything he could to get us home as quickly as possible while navigating the rapidly deteriorating driving conditions.
So, no badgers, sorry. Instead, you will have to settle for my current obsession. Like badgers, they are black and white, but that is where the similarity ends. Allow me to explain.
I blogged before about the struggle for wildlife photography opportunities locally as spring shifts into summer. The abundance of vegetation hides the smaller birds, and the rivers and burns are more obscured. Even my beloved roe deer can remain hidden in a field of long grass. At this time of year, trips to the coastline along the Clyde often prove to be more fruitful but, until now, it has been a hopeful approach - we turn up somewhere just to see what we can see and sometimes get lucky. I'm not trying to focus on a particular species, simply trying to find something to point my lens at. And that was the plan (or lack thereof) for our trips to Greenock Esplanade - until recently.
Greenock Esplanade is known locally for being a bottlenose dolphin-watching hotspot. I wrote about my first time photographing and filming the Clyde pod there. Many people ask the best time of day to see the dolphins. While some helpful chap in the sightings Facebook group joked that they perform daily at 2pm and 6pm, the truth is you have to be lucky. Obviously, the more often you are there, the greater the likelihood of seeing them, but nothing is guaranteed. Sightings of black guillemots - on the other hand - are more reliable.
These birds don't travel far from their breeding sites between seasons, so once you spot them a couple of times in the same area, you know you stand a good chance of regular sightings. Last September, I photographed a black guillemot in non-breeding plumage from the Esplanade. In April, I photographed a pair of these birds flying to and from a drain pipe in the sea wall, so I thought this might be the place to watch black guillemots and, hopefully, their fledglings later in the season.
So far, I've been proved right. On subsequent visits to the Esplanade, the number of these birds has grown, as has their activity in cavities in the sea wall. So, I will keep returning during the summer to see if I can photograph their progress through the breeding season. I have already captured courtship behaviour and the birds going in and out of their nest sites. All this proves that you don't need to be on your local patch and photographing a subject daily to build an understanding of it, or to capture interesting images. Knowing where to revisit regularly can be the key. As I've said before, do what you can do - if you only have a couple of hours for wildlife photography one day per week, make it work for you.
So, while most people strolling along Greenock Esplanade have their eyes peeled for a dorsal fin appearing on the horizon, I'm looking out for those little black birds. When my lens is pointed out to sea, I'm approached by those wanting to know what I'm watching. I always get a distinct look of disappointment when I tell them it's black guillemots and not dolphins. Little do they know the thrill these stunning seabirds can provide.
I'll leave you with an image that took time to come together. I had to wait (and hope) for this black guillemot to paddle into the area of water with the red reflection. I also had to keep my fingers crossed that, if it did, the light would hold so that I could accurately capture the brightness of the reflection. Patience paid off. I love the visual link between the red legs of the guillemot and the reflected red crane, showing the connection between this species and our harbours.
Best wishes,
Rhiannon
Opposite View Wildlife Photography
Through my lens
Bucked up - My highly commended images in Deer Photographer of the Year 2024
I blogged about being shortlisted in the Scottish Nature Photography Awards in April. Now, there is more exciting news to share - my images were highly commended in the first Deer Photographer of the Year awards.
Again, I was shocked about having four images shortlisted in this global competition. To get two of my photos beyond that point was simply a dream - until it was a reality. However, the news hadn't sunk in until I saw my images on the Deer Photographer of the Year website. I have followed Hungarian photographer Bence Máté for years. He won Wildlife Photographer of the Year the same year I got my first camera. It was me saying that I wished I could take photos like that while walking around the exhibition of the 2010 award winners, which resulted in the treasured gift of a DSLR from my then-partner. To be highly commended in a competition that Bence won makes me realise the extent of my development as a photographer since then.
In this blog, I share the stories behind my two highly commended images.
Species spotlight
Fulmar - rider on the storm
The silvery sky is empty, save for a flock of nearly twenty gannets far out to sea - identifiable from their bright white bodies and pumping flight action, even from a distance. The sound of the iron grey North Sea crashing on the beach has the unusual backing track of sweetly singing meadow pipits juxtaposed with the cacophony of calls from the seabird colony on the cliffs of Dunstanburgh Castle. Turning from right to left, I cannot spot any movement in the sky or on the shore. All is still apart from the ever-present fresh breeze. And that's when it materialises from nowhere, as if teleported from another planet. Gliding past, regarding the human in the elevated position on the dunes through shining black eyes. I don't have time to lift my camera before it disappears. A ghost in the sky. The fulmar.
In this blog, I explain why I find the fulmar so fascinating and share a couple of unusual locations for photographing these seabirds.
And finally…
Last month, I showed you a video of moorhens raising their chicks in a tyre hanging from a barge. This month’s nest is more conventional but noisier. In this video, you can see (and hear!) great spotted woodpecker chicks fed by the male (identifiable by the patch of red feathers on the back of his head). I used my long lens to film this activity without disturbing the birds. We would have missed this lovely springtime encounter if we'd ignored the strange noise. So, if you hear anything unusual, it is always worth checking it out.
There are more videos available to view on my YouTube channel - including dolphins, waxwings, deer, seabirds, and all of my top tips videos.
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Keep in touch
Thanks for reading this! If you have any comments or questions, opportunities for photography or if you would like to use any of my images, please leave a comment. I’d love to hear from you.
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