May 2022 Viewfinder
There are tales (and tails) of the unexpected in this month's Opposite View Wildlife Photography newsletter.
Are you a planner or a pantster?
Do you head off to watch wildlife with something specific in mind, or do you turn up at a location to see what presents itself?
A friend gave me some good advice recently. He said:
I think your problem may be that you’ve started seeing wildlife as ‘projects’. Leave your blog and camera at home and just remind yourself why you fell in love with it in the first place.
As I mentioned in last month's newsletter, I had explained to him that I miss winter because that is when my project of watching and photographing the local foxes is in full swing. But he is right, and I have been following his advice. Well, sort of.
My daily walks have become less of a plan and more of a potter. Just like they were at the start of lockdown - before I started to seek out certain species. I don't have anywhere specific to be.
It was on one such meandering stroll a few weeks ago that I saw it. Something shiny, sodden, shifted out of the river and into the undergrowth on the bank. A tail? Silence. Stillness. Breath held. Nothing.
As I turned to continue across the bridge over the burn, I heard the splash. There was a commotion in the bushes.
Luckily, I hadn't taken all of the advice from my friend on board. I had left my planning and projects at home but grasped my camera in trembling hands. Locking focus, I spotted shiny brown bodies bouncing around. Then a familiar face appeared. One from books and TV programmes but never seen in the flesh before. Otter. They were otters. I had spent my whole life waiting to see one and three had arrived, a 5-minute walk from my flat on the southside of Glasgow.
What followed happened in a few minutes but will be etched on my mind forever. They emerged from the shelter of the bank and swam towards me - a female with two cubs. While the female calmly looked up at me, her babies swam around her. One proceeded to climb on her back. After a couple of minutes of play together, they dove in unison, melted into the river and disappeared. I cried - not tears steadily rolling down my cheeks but full-on bawling. It was a combination of joy, surprise and release, all flooding out at once.
I could lie and tell you there was an immense amount of skill and fieldcraft in this encounter but, honestly, I was just walking slowly and quietly and taking in my surroundings. This cautious approach, including remaining still and patient when it looked like the opportunity had passed, was key to getting the images. I avoided spooking the female. She, therefore, seemed pretty comfortable swimming up to check me out with her cubs in tow. I could have tried to change position but knew that would likely scare them. It was about enjoying the moment presented to me.
Since then, I have had a close encounter with a fox in an unexpected spot and met a roe deer buck who was happy having me nearby for over half an hour. Both happened on pantster walks. Just me, my camera, the fresh air - the reason I fell in love with these daily strolls in the first place.
So yes, of course, I will keep my eyes peeled for the otters (I knew they were in the area but hadn't seen them before) and I will watch out for signs of foxes. I will always want more encounters like these. More importantly, though, I will keep my mind open along with my eyes. There will always be new reasons for being in love with my local patch.
Oh, and if you want to keep up with my sightings, please consider following me on Facebook or Instagram if you are not already doing so. Although I try to blog on my website at least a couple of times a month, I post daily mini-blogs on these channels, often featuring my latest encounters.
So, are you a planner or a pantster? Please comment/reply and let me know.
Until next month, I will leave you with one of the images from my otterly brilliant encounter.
Best wishes,
Rhiannon
Opposite View Wildlife Photography
Through my lens
Toadlet terror and a fear of flattening frogs
Friends and family sometimes ask what my most terrifying wildlife encounter has been. Getting charged by a bull elephant was exhilarating. Walking next to a testosterone-pumped red deer stag during the annual rut at Richmond Park had me shaking with adrenaline. But hands down, the encounter that strikes fear into my heart whenever I recall it is the march of the toadlets.
Species spotlight
Greylag goose - the grazing guardian
The greylag goose is our only native breeding goose and can be spotted all over the place, making them an ideal subject to point your lens at. They are also surprisingly pretty birds when viewed up close but remember to keep a respectful distance - particularly when they are protecting their adorable offspring.
And finally…
Humans can be pretty rubbish - as demonstrated by this mute swan having to nest in…well, rubbish! I captured this image earlier this month in Strathclyde Park. When the swan wasn’t busy turning the eggs, it was adding to its already huge nest of twigs, branches and other less natural items.
Apparently, this is a regular occurrence at this spot. Last year the Daily Record reported that a swan was nesting amongst the rubbish. Although that article noted that the adult looked comfortable, it is hard to relax while thinking about the cygnets emerging from the nest into a wave of waste and potentially getting tangled up.
In a Glasgow Live article in February last year, a North Lanarkshire council spokeswoman said: "This litter has collected at a boom which is in place to stop debris washed down the South Calder River entering Strathclyde Loch.
"It is regularly cleared and the current build up will be removed as soon as possible. Heavy rain, which we have experienced recently, often washes more litter downstream. We would ask people to dispose of their litter responsibly to help keep our communities clean."
However, I’m not sure how they clear the accumulation of waste without disturbance once there is a swan nesting there! My only hope is that images like this help persuade people to dispose of their rubbish responsibly.
On a more positive note, if you love swans as much as I do, you should pre-order Swan: Portrait of a Majestic Bird, from Mythical Meanings to the Modern Day by the wonderful Dan Keel. I can’t wait to get my copy!
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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