Blurring the Edge: On Ego

Wildlife photography is humbling. In the marsh you are a pariah; you have to learn to accept rejection. The longest lens, the sturdiest tripod, the fastest film or the most pixels cannot compete with the egret's easy flight up and away, far away. Humility is the first merit badge you earn from Banner.

Photographers frequently moan about the "missed shot". When I started out last year, I had no idea that about 90% of the pictures I wanted to shoot were going to be "the ones that got away". It was (and is) even worse than that. Of the wildlife pictures that I do manage to get, less than 5% are worth keeping. I have been carefully cataloging thousands of pictures on my hard drive this year, because somehow I hope that the folks at Adobe will create upgrades to Photoshop that might save them....

The fundamental problem is of course that skittish birds and animals are smart. In the wily world of predator/prey relationships, they have not been conned by hunters' decoys or eaten by the local coyote. To maintain my sanity I needed to find some strategies for getting closer to these clever animals. After perusing several "How to photograph wildlife" books and articles, I found the following suggestions:

1. Find tame animals in a zoo, park, or Florida rookeries. This may defeat the purpose of documenting wild places, but you can get splendid close-up portraits of animals. It feels like cheating. Biology laboratories with specimens may also be good. It still feels like cheating.

2. Use fantastic (read expensive) equipment. Even if my children would approve of me squandering $10,000 of their inheritance for an 800mm fast lens, I doubt that my husband would approve of me hiring Mr. Universe to carry it. Lloyd's of London might insure it at astronomical cost. ( Hmmm.. Note- check on cost of insuring the shutter release finger.)

3. Use bribery. This is what I call the bird feeder solution ( mentioned in my first post). Reducing animals to welfare recipients poses moral problems.

4. Use Zen. Basically, become one with environment, blend in, hold still. This is the hardest strategy, but the most satisfying. If you can remain motionless for up to 30 minutes, the critters do start to read you as part of the environment, and they come back. It is a good solution for warmer weather; when the temperature drops you might need to resort to thermal underwear. Anything hunters do to remain invisible may be applied here: camo clothing, tents, scent. (A thermos of coffee is useful, and a good book. )

Kidding aside, though, wonderful things happen when you simply watch and wait. The animals do reenter the picture. But more importantly, you find yourself entering their world. You hear more, see more, release yourself from the worries of the day job or the housework. The egocentric concerns that fret us ( "will it be a great picture?" ) just don't matter as much; what matters is being a part of that morning on that day in Banner Marsh.