October 2023 Viewfinder
Nature unleashes its healing power in this month’s Opposite View Wildlife Photography newsletter.
The last time I sent out one of these, it was the height of summer. We’re now firmly ensconced in autumn, and sadly that’s not all that has changed since we last spoke.
If you are particularly eagle-eyed, you may have noticed that there hasn’t been a new instalment of this monthly newsletter since July. I am devastated to write that my wonderful dad passed away suddenly at the end of August. So, as I am sure you can appreciate, I decided to take myself offline for a while. I didn't really have a choice - I just wasn’t in the right headspace to be sharing images and wildlife photography tips while I was trying to come to terms with what happened.
That didn’t mean I wasn’t getting out with my camera or encountering wildlife. In fact, alongside the support from my family and friends, heading outside and watching the natural world continue each day kept me going. Looking through my lens was both soothing and stimulating at a time when I veered from distraught to numb - and it continues to be so. I feel like I have said this so many times on various platforms, but I will reiterate it here - both nature and photography are a tonic. I don’t think I can put this any better than what I wrote for CPRE:
For me, wildlife photography has helped to alleviate anxiety and stress. Firstly, by forcing me to slow down. If I want to find wildlife to photograph, I can’t be marching along as I’ll either miss spotting a subject or flush it from its hiding place. Instead, I must tread lightly and calmly to take in and appreciate my surroundings and not disturb a potential subject.
Secondly, the beauty of wildlife provides a boost of serotonin (a chemical our bodies release that can control emotion) and, during the more exciting encounters, an adrenaline rush. Thirdly, controlling the camera settings focuses my mind on the task in hand and capturing the image helps to release my creative side and gives me a sense of achievement.
When I look through the viewfinder, my whole world reduces to what I see, my camera settings and the thump of my heartbeat.
But something else happened when I headed outside in those days immediately after we lost my father; wildlife kept showing up.
Now, as wildlife watchers or photographers, I am sure you will have experience of the animals not showing up when you want them to. My usual plan is simply not to have a plan of what to photograph at all and just see what turns up. The majority of the time, nothing spectacular appears. Rather than worry about that, I make the most of the everyday encounters and wait patiently for the rare occasions when something more unusual appears in my viewfinder.
However, in the days after my dad passed away, I had many unusual encounters. My first osprey - exactly where it was rumoured to be - flew a lap of the loch in front of us before flying directly over my head. A pod of bottlenose dolphins showed up at the exact time we were walking past the dolphin viewpoint on Greenock Esplanade. A shag caught a fish in front of me and paraded about with it. Even the local roe deer were putting on a daily show.
My only explanation for this sudden run of luck is that my dad was sending me wildlife from wherever he is now to try and make me smile. I will completely understand if you find that unbelievable, dear reader, but it’s the only answer I have for the number of astonishing encounters that me and my partner had in such a short amount of time.
Or maybe I’m wrong. Perhaps it is the natural world that sends us these moments of joy when we need them most. I wrote about this a while ago concerning an unexpected encounter with a local otter family. Either way, these moments gave us solace when we needed it most, and I am grateful for them.
One encounter I haven’t mentioned above, which feels appropriate to share today, happened at Lunderston Bay. When we saw two huge corvids bouncing along the shore, I swore they couldn’t be ravens - despite what my eyes (and my partner!) were telling me. They were too close to the path, too close to people. They had to be carrion crows. I therefore didn’t pick up my camera straight away. It was the confident kronk from one of the pair, just before it flew off, that left me scrambling to capture an image of the remaining raven. I still can’t believe they had allowed us to get so close before they disappeared. In my experience, they seem to stay as far away from humans as possible. Had these black beauties - often associated with death but one of my favourite species - been sent to me for comfort and joy? I know what I believe.
I’ll leave you with an image of the raven I captured during that encounter, which feels appropriate to share on Halloween. No trick, just a real treat.
Best wishes,
Rhiannon
Opposite View Wildlife Photography
Through my lens
A leap of faith - spotting bottlenose dolphins in Greenock
I'm not someone who likes to chase sightings for my wildlife photography. I'm the photographer who arrives five minutes after the incredible animal has been and gone. You know the drill; you walk into the hide, and the first thing you hear is: "You should have been here five minutes ago, mate. A kingfisher was riding around on an otter's back". Okay, that could be a slight exaggeration, but I'm sure you can sympathise. I am the woman who went to where a flock of waxwings had been all week and had been spotted again that morning, only to find that they'd disappeared about an hour before I arrived, never to return.
In this blog, I explain why joining a Facebook group that posts local cetacean sightings led to an incredible encounter with bottlenose dolphins and share the images and video from that encounter.
Species Spotlight
Dipper - the bobbing bird going with the flow
Unlike their flashy blue neighbours on the river - Mr and Mrs kingfisher - the Dipper family are easy to miss. From a distance, their bobbing brown bodies can be hard to spot in the shimmer of a fast-flowing river, the constant moving of their white breasts seemingly helping them to blend in with the torrent of water.
In this blog, I share my tips on how to find and photograph this low-light-loving species of our waterways.
And finally…
Now is the time to keep your eyes peeled around the UK coast for adult seabirds in non-breeding plumage and juveniles heading for their first winter. Many of these birds look very different at this time of year, so taking the time to learn what their plumage looks like out of the breeding season can make all the difference when looking out for opportunities to photograph seabirds.
The images above show the non-breeding plumage of (left to right): 1st-winter razorbill, guillemot, and black guillemot.
If you’re looking for images of seabirds in their summer splendour, please check out the latest image gallery on my website.
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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Very sorry for your loss – and completely understandable to take time off.Also: lovely raven!
There was an article in a newspaper a few days ago discussing the idea that loved ones appear in other guises, I wish I had read it now, makes a lot of sense, I hope it is true xxxx