The Mountain Goat is an amazing critter that literally hangs out in some of the most rugged and inaccessible locales in North America’s northern regions. For many years last decade, we would travel to Glacier Nat’l Park to have opportunities to be with them. Now, they literally live in our backyard, that’s if you can go vertical seven thousand feet. These billys were over in the Gallentins doing what Goats do at least once a day, if not twice, and that’s to come down to water. The high perches where they spend most of their day tend to be quite dry once the summer sun comes. There’s very little, if any, free water, so they go to the water. They still had their winter coats last month when I photographed them, making the summer heat even more intense. Making shots so they look their best and not moth-eaten is a challenge.

Photographing them in all their splendor with full, clean, white coats has long been a desire of mine. Finding the local in winter where I can make that happen has been though unsuccessful so far, which is a disappointment. Hopefully, we can make that happen. Until then, I take enjoyment in seeing them when I can during the long summer in white.

Many of us have experienced the hummingbird feeding frenzy at a feeder. There always seems to be one hummer that spends most of its time chasing the other hummers away. At Madera Canyon, you have a hundred hummers wanting to feed, so there are many hummers trying to claim the feeders as theirs. The bedlam can be dizzying! This makes for great flying hummer photography opportunities. And if you look carefully, you’ll see those individuals who take a different tack to the whole process. This immature Black-chinned is one of those individuals. I have no doubt it’s just my imagination, but at times, it seemed to try to bullying with body gestures, and at other times, misdirect chasers to pursue an individual so it could eat unharrassed. I watched it do this multiple times from different perches. The one time it selected a perch where I had a clear shot, I had already seen its antics, so I was ready for them. The whole time I watched it, in my mind it was saying to every hummer, mine, mine, mine!

They are such dynamos! Hummingbirds’ constant playing of Tag has them jetting about seemingly nonstop. This is so much fun to watch and makes photographing them a super challenge. This year at Madera Canyon, the Z180-600 helped in that quest, providing flexibility as they got closer and further away from the camera. There are a couple of images I’ve desired for years that I still haven’t added to my library, but this one gives some hint of that. When Hummers change direction in flight on a pinhead, their tail goes up, their head goes down, and the wings come forward. It’s their position for a power dive. Every so often, they do a power climb as you see here. The big visual difference is the “determination” in their gesture. That’s what I’m after, and for another year, I didn’t come home with it. That’s OK, there is always tomorrow when I will be again, up, up and away!

It’s such a little element that makes such a huge impact, gesture! I started my career with the Vireo (that’s a long time ago), so I cherish any moment I have now to improve on what I did way back when. Technology has come so far since then, oh my! The blending of ambient light with flash is a snap, to the point I don’t even give it a second thought once set up for that shoot. The speed at which the Z 9 grabs focus clears up not only the viewfinder but my mind, so then it’s all about telling the story of a bird that makes a big impact on our world, though rarely thought of. Making you, the viewer, stop, look, and engage, truly comes down to the smallest element. Clearing the mind from the world and technology is essential so that you can focus on those small gestures.

The Delaware coast was a treasure trove of birds! My very first morning on site, a white van pulled up with a Fish & Wildlife emblem on the door. The person walked over and asked if we minded moving from where we were shooting as they wanted to trap shorebirds in that location for their research. We moved instantly as their research was much more important than our images. Well, that started a relationship that continues to this day!

Being a Master Bander and a biology geek, I couldn’t help myself and asked questions. It was a great conversation, fostering a new relationship. They were attaching “Flags” as well as service bands on the birds, you can see one of the green flags on this inbound Ruddy Turnstone. At the end of that session shooting, they were very kind and brought over to the group a Least Sandpiper and Short-billed Dowitcher they had trapped and did an in-the-field class on bird ID and banding. It was great!!!

One of the biologists was from Argentina, and we hit it off instantly. The next day, I gave him a list of the birds I’d photographed (the Flag numbers) with his Flags. That’s when the reality struck, they were targeting species that just a few years back were a dime a dozen. They weren’t going after the endangered Red Knot, they were targeting species that not too long ago no one paid attention to there were so many of them. That reality is still upsetting to me. What have we done to our world? It’s important science, and I was so pleased that for a week, I could play an insignificant part by recording The Flag.

It’s a spectacle that goes back nearly to when the dinosaurs roamed the planet. That’s how long Horseshoe Crabs have been coming to the sands of the northeast coast to lay their eggs in spring. A single female can lay up to 100,000 eggs. With an estimated 200-300 million crabs hitting the shores a century ago, well, that’s simply a lot of eggs, which is what attracts the shorebirds. Fueling up for their flight north to produce the next generation, they pile into the beaches, bays, and marshes to feast. This sadly, is long gone as I’ve found the past decade searching to witness this time-old event. We got a taste of the spectacular but just a small glimpse of the past two weeks ago in Delaware, seeing 50-60,000 shorebirds chase the microscopic eggs in their frenzy to feast. Dunlin is one of the species taking advantage of this abundant food source. When I saw one as the sun rose perched on a crab, it seemed to be the perfect story. The age old quest to ride the crab.