500 Canaries Can't Be Wrong

Midway Atoll is, I've been told, the only place in the world that a self-sustaining population of yellow canaries—some 500—can be found. But they are of course not native to this far-flung spot. They were brought to Midway in 1910 by an employee of the cable company that laid the first round-the-world telegraph cables. Nevertheless, their century-long inhabitation is impressive, and many other non-native occupants wreak far worse ecological havoc. The canaries flitter about the island, generally unconcerned about the much larger birds that share the space. This bristle-thighed curlew, which breeds in Alaska and winters on tropical Pacific islands, seemed much more aware of them than they were of it! The juxtaposition of two species I saw almost every day but which are rarely associated with Midway Atoll made for a comical shot.

Rough Day 2

Dragonflies are hard to sneak up on. Sometimes, if you're lucky, they have a favorite perch, which you can wait next to, camera at the ready, until they come back. But with a nearly 360º field of view, they see you coming and almost always dart away. That is, unless they're exhausted. I imagine it's tiring to fly when you're having a rough day and missing almost an entire wing. I think that's why this dragonfly at Kenilworth Park and Aquatic Gardens allowed me to get so close.

The Food Chain

White terns nest anywhere and everywhere on Midway. There was one pair who laid an egg in a shrub at the front corner of the Chokedee House, where I lived, and I got to watch their chick grow from the tiniest ball of fluff into a fledgling and eventually into a juvenile. One day, I noticed one parent sitting in the shrub with the fledgling nowhere to be found. I presumed it was out practicing to fly. But white terns don't feed their chicks by digesting and then regurgitating their food—they catch appropriately-sized fish in their bill, and bring them back whole. So this parent had to wait with these fish in its bill until its chick came back. Apparently it had been waiting a while, because as I stood there, taking advantage of the opportunity to get this close-up, an ant crawled up the tern's body, onto its bill, and into the mouth of the fish!

Semipalmated Sandpiper

In Canada two summers ago, I visited a very windy beach full of shorebirds. There were several semipalmated sandpipers hunkered down against the wind, and as I always do, I got low to the ground and started slowly creeping towards one of them. He did the usual sandpiper dash away from me a few times, but I persistently moved closer. Eventually, I was on my hands and knees, almost supine, about seven feet away, and still he just looked at me. Perhaps he didn't flush because of the strong wind, but I like to think that I have a way with animals. Worming along, now completely on my stomach, I managed to get within three feet of the sandpiper, snapping this amazing shot. The on-the-ground perspective, putting you at eye-level with the bird, plus the incredibly shallow depth of field makes for quite a powerful photo. He never moved, and after taking this photo I slowly backed away without scaring him. But I had been taking photos for so long that the tide had almost trapped me!

Marmot

This semester, I'm taking Theater Photography, the only photography class offered at my school. Our first assignment was to share our favorite photo on the class blog. This is one of the two that I posted, and here's the story behind it: when I visited Yosemite National Park in the summer of 2010, I hiked to the top of Mt. Hoffman, which was crawling with marmots. But on my way up, I got side-tracked photographing this particularly friendly marmot. I spent almost an hour crawling around on the side of the mountain, following him as he nibbled here and there, took a break in the shade of a rock, and then went back to eating. He was clearly aware of my presence, but was blissfully unconcerned. After slowly getting closer and closer and getting very good looks at him, I took this shot of him getting a good look at me. This photo was taken with my shortest focal length—it just warms my soul that this marmot had no problem with me snapping photos mere feet away.

True Nature

During a family trip to visit a friend in Pennsylvania once, we went on a short hike on a trail billing itself as a "nature trail." It was aptly named, for I have never seen such a variety of animals in such a small area. We saw dozens of bright iridescent green beetles and damselflies, a large black snake coiled on a branch not an arm's length from the trail, a hand-sized spider, a dung beetle crossing the path, numerous birds, snails, and slugs, and this guy. This daddy longlegs was standing in the middle of the trail munching away on a live snail. And it was missing a leg. So while this may not be the most idyllic of photos, I think it captures a raw moment in the life of this spider, in all its gory detail.

Seagull Chase

I've gone to Block Island with my dad for about a week every summer for the past 10 years at least. I always use this commitment-free opportunity to improve my photography and develop new perspectives on familiar subjects. This past summer, I devoted some of my efforts to sunsets, which rarely disappoint on Block Island. One evening while I was down on the beach, I encountered a seagull in the surf, and immediately envisioned this shot. But I had to work for it: I chased this poor juvenile back and forth for half-an-hour, trying to simultaneously keep the camera level, keep the bird framed with the sky, and run, all while trying to predict the direction the bird would flee and periodically adjusting the camera's settings as night closed in. So by the time I got this shot, neither I nor the seagull were anywhere near as calm as this photo appears.

Eyes of Affection

A friend of my aunt's owns four donkeys. They are just the sweetest things. As soon as they see you, they come right up to the fence to say hi, and if you go into their enclosure, so eager are they to be near people, they literally walk into you. You just want to hug them; luckily, these donkeys love getting hugs. When I was last there, I sat on the ground to be at eye level with them and they were thrilled: they all came over and circled around me, nudging me if didn't distribute my attention evenly. I took this photo to try to capture the warmth and affection they showed me.

Chomping at the Bit

Meadowlark Gardens Regional Park sells food pellets for visitors to feed the koi in their pond. However, snapping turtles also apparently have a taste for koi food, sometimes viciously chomping at the pellets and living up to their name. After realizing that I had a steady supply of food with me, this one got lazy. This is one of the first photos I took, when aggressively snapping at the food still seemed necessary. By the time I was down to the last pellet, it merely opened its mouth and waited for the food to flow in. I hope I didn't dull its instincts!

Old Couple

On the first day in Grand Canyon National Park with my Regional Field Geology class, two California Condors flew right past us. Shocked, we continued to talk about geology, but hoped they would fly by again. Instead, they landed on a rock outcrop no more than 100 feet away from us and sat in the brilliant morning sun, displaying their tags. Wondering about the history of 33 and 87, I did some research after getting home and discovered they are one of only five mated pairs in Arizona. They're also two of the oldest California Condors still alive; the female, 33, is the last remaining survivor of the first release of Condors into Arizona. These two birds are clearly part of a bigger story than mine!

Personable Hermit

Hermit crabs are some of my favorite animals. They always seem to have a lot of character to me. I think part of that is because they very clearly have distinctly different personalities—some run from you, some hide. There are some that refuse to venture out of their shells when you hold them, some that will come out just far enough to look at you, and some that will instantly right themselves and attempt to crawl away. On my most recent visit to Hawaii, I felt like I could have spent hours on my stomach watching the hermit crabs conduct their lives. This guy was one of the most active hermit crabs I have ever met, and I took many photos of him. Here he is scrambling across my palm.

Rough Day

I suppose I discovered my love of photography at Huntley Meadows park. I've taken hundreds upon hundreds of photos there over the years. One day about six years ago, I went on a photography expedition to the park to take a photo worthy of entering in the park's photo contest. This sad-looking dragonfly was perched on the railing of the boardwalk that day. As I crept closer and closer, trying to get the perfect shot, I realized that it must have been simply too tired to fly away from me. Most dragonflies are quick to leave their perch when approached, but the lens of my camera was about 6 inches from the dragonfly when I took this photo. It ended up with an honorable mention in the contest—something which may have further spurred me to pursue photography.