Their name comes from their loud call, which sounds like clapping. Their booming voice belies the fact that they hide perfectly in their marsh world. A tad smaller than a chicken, you can find them in tidal marshes on both coasts, with the west coast species in dire straits. This individual was photographed on the Delaware coast, where the healthy marsh system supports a healthy population. I’ve been fortunate to spend time with all the species over the decades and can pass along one tip if you want to photograph this very secretive rail. First, be prepared to have them do goofy things, no way to describe them, but once you see them, you’ll know what I’m talking about. The other is, time your visit to the marsh when high tide is going out around sunrise. They like to travel the tidal creeks to define their territories, which is when they expose themselves. They are a great bird, them secretive, goofy Clappers!

Old school, shooting up on a subject makes them look more masculine. In the critter world, more majestic. Making a cow look more masculine might seem a stretch, but most don’t distinguish a cow from a bull, they just see a Bison. An easy way to accomplish this is to shoot from a lower angle. Getting down physically with Bison is not a smart idea, so we look for opportunities when they are on a slight hillside where we can shoot up on them safely. The best is the rarest occurrence, and that’s when they ridgeline. It’s a word I made up to quickly inform others that a critter is on the top of a ridge with only sky behind them, they should point their lens to make the shot. See, ridgeliner is faster than trying to say all of that in the heat of shooting. In this case, the background was the growing thunderheads of the Black Hills of SD. The drama, the light, it was simply breath taking and if I arranged all the elements correctly, that drama has been said. Or what I like to simply say, ridgeliner.

The “trick” I share with new birders to know it’s a Barn Swallow is by its tail. I tell them it’s a pitchfork for moving hay in the barn, Barn Swallow. A common species found throughout North America, these aerial speedsters come here for the spring to raise the next generation before heading back south. I’ve enjoyed their antics forever, but last week was the first time I spent time photographing them. A couple of pairs were busy building their nests on a couple of outbuildings in the Black Hills, a couple of log buildings. That got me to thinking, where did they nest before we built barns?

These are photos of the two different males at the two different nest sites on the two different buildings. Interestingly, both buildings had a large spike they could use for a perch. The challenge was to say “barn” without having their great pattern dominate the story. This required moving to the point of almost leaning against the building to throw it out of focus. The amazing MFD of the Z180-600 did the rest, allowing me to be just nine feet away. With sex in the air, the males couldn’t care less I was there. They went about trying their best to attract the females. Then comes time to cough up all those exoskeletons from all the insects they eat. I guess the females gotta do the same thing because the gagging routine didn’t seem to get in the way. They were so fun to spend time with all those days. I’m so glad we found a barn.

I’ve been smitten by the Snowcap for a long, long time! This color-packed bird is only 2.5″ (1/4″ bigger than the smallest in the world) in length, from tip to tip, making it the second smallest hummer in the world. My first time to see them, experience them, and photograph them was in 2024. And I wasn’t thrilled with the results I came back with, so I returned this year to improve on them. Being so small, they can be pushed around by other, larger species somewhat easily. This combination makes getting “the” shot I had in mind … challenging!

There was a hedge, a different locale from the one I worked in 2024 at Rancho Naturalista, where the Snowcap were being seen pretty regularly. For five afternoons, I haunted that hedge, a slave to my desire and the flight of the Snowcap, looking for that better image. The ISO on the Z 6III was hiked up to 1200, providing a shutter speed of 1/400 @f/8. They played with me, appearing at one spot which I would dutifully move over to only to have them move to another spot once I was set up at the first. Then I would get one in the viewfinder only to see a heartbeat later, and before I could depress the shutter release, it would be chased off. I was starting to think I would go back home empty-handed. Finally, the last afternoon, one male hovered for what seemed like a lifetime (in reality only for seconds), giving me a better shot than the previous year. The last shot I got was the one that I really liked. With one wing going right and the other going left, it perfectly describes photographing hummers. They just can’t give a guy a break!

A couple of weeks prior to our heading to Rancho Naturalista, Costa Rica, Sharon’s sister spent some time at this birding heaven. While she was there, she sent Sharon an excellent photo of the Green Thorntail. It’s a great hummer species, one we had not seen or photographed, so that was exciting. But what blew us away was the photograph. Sharon’s sister is your basic smartphone photographer, so when the photo hit Sharon’s phone, a close-up, sharp, great color, photo we weren’t sure what was up. One thing is for sure, the bar was set for our Adventure.

One of my first questions of Harry, the guide at the lodge, was, “Where’s the Green Thorntail?” We found out it was being seen at Lisa’s hedge. The next five afternoons, I was at that hedge. We saw this small hummer almost first thing, so I got the Lifer, but no photo. It was harassed by the Rufous-tailed and Violet-crowned Hummingbird, keeping it far away from our glass. Day after day, I would be teased with a slightly better photo, but still nothing like what Sharon’s sister had sent. Then on the third day, we discovered that the photo was taken through Harry’s scope, which explained the frame-filling shot she sent. This knowledge though didn’t let me off the hook. I need that better photo. Finally the last day, I had figured out enough of Thorntail’s movements to stake out this one section of hedge it frequented the most. Parked there, I finally got the photos. Phew, I was feeling the self-induced family challenge!

The Hummer Deck at Rancho Naturlista is paradise! The trees, sky, and air are filled with the sights and sounds of thirty or more bird species of the rainforest. You will hear many of the birders wanting to capture the sounds to take home with them because of the calming tranquillity they instill in the listener. When you have your camera up to your eye, your head is filled with these sounds, making the photography that much sweeter (love the silence of mirrorless!). Then the Red-billed Pigeons thunder into the sky, a clap of wings that is startling, taking to the air with them are the other smaller birds that rely on the pigeons to sound the alarm. You can’t hear the person next to you it’s so loud, let alone the birds that a second before were contentedly feeding. Usually in the quiet, the shy birds appear from the depths of the forest, and just when you get your lens locked onto that small, shy bird, the explosion hits. Every time this happened last week, I would look up and see the Bicolored Hawk just perched there looking innocently. That’s until it spots potential prey, and then off he would fly. It was peaceful!