Molten Morning American Wigeon

Beneath a sky of molten gold, he glides, the white-capped drake drifting through silence. I wait—Sony in hand, heart racing— the world narrowing to one perfect frame.

The air is still, the marsh is hushed, no shutter's click to break the spell. The a9 III, a silent witness, holds the emerald glow and the fire of the sun.

For a breath, the wild pauses just for me, the lensman, the birdman, chasing wonder. Then—in the quiet—the moment lives forever, feathers, light, and grandeur captured in time.

If the Wood Duck from my last post was all drama, saturated colour, and pure visual fireworks, this handsome American Wigeon was the quieter kind of magic—the kind that sneaks up on you and suddenly has you grinning behind the camera.

There’s something about these moments that I never get tired of. Calm water. Warm light. A cooperative bird just going about its business while I lie there at water level, hoping it’ll give me one more second… then one more after that. This drake Wigeon glided through what looked like liquid gold, every feather perfectly lit and etched in detail, the reflection soft and painterly below him. No chaos. No rush. Just calm, wild beauty right in front of me.

Images like this are why I keep doing what I do. They’re not loud or showy; they’re quiet, elegant, and deeply satisfying. After the bold, theatrical Wood Duck, this Wigeon felt like the perfect follow-up—subtle, refined, and every bit as rewarding.