After another successful Songbirds of Pelee workshop, and the last of my enthusiastic participants had headed home, I found myself with that familiar mix of contentment and a touch of melancholy. It's always a joy to share my passion for nature photography and witness my students' incredible progress and excitement. But, with the teaching done, my photographic itch often resurfaces with renewed vigour.
As it often does near any marsh, my mind turned to the ever-elusive American Bittern. For those of you who have tried to photograph these masters of camouflage, you know the drill. They are the true "ghosts of the marsh," with their striped plumage and remarkable "bittern stance" allowing them to melt seamlessly into the reeds. Catching one in flight is a dream, a true testament to patience and a bit of luck. And that was my sole objective as I ventured out for a quick walk before an early night to rest before my 03:00 departure the following day.
My eyes scanning the reeds, my ears tuned for that distinctive "oong-ka-choonk" call that often gives them away. I mentally prepared for the long vigil, the slow stalk, and the likely disappointment because the wind was raging. Because let's be honest, that's often the reality when pursuing such a shy and reclusive subject.
But then… my heart did that little skip, that internal flutter that only a nature photographer understands when something special unfolds before them. There it was. Not hidden, not glimpsed for a fleeting second through a gap in the foliage. No, this magnificent American Bittern was out in the open.
It was on the edge of the marsh, frozen and likely thinking it was invisible to me if it stayed motionless. My breath caught. Not the flight shot I had envisioned, but it was arguably even better. The cloudy, bright, diffused light was perfect, casting even illumination without harsh shadows and an unobstructed view of the entire bird.
I slowly, meticulously, got down to eye level. As you all know, it's a core principle of mine to get down on your subject's level whenever possible. It creates a far more intimate and engaging image, pulling the viewer directly into the bird's world. And in this instance, it made all the difference. With a clear view and that wonderfully uncluttered background, every feather, every detail of its unique form, was beautifully rendered.
It wasn't the dramatic flight shot I had hoped for when I set out, but it was far more rewarding. It was a gift to have this notoriously shy bird present itself so openly, allowing for such a clean and pleasing portrait.
Sometimes, nature has a way of surprising us, of delivering something unexpected that far surpasses our initial intentions. This American Bittern, stepping out of its hidden world and into the open, was a powerful reminder. Moments like these reinforce why we do what we do – the pursuit of the wild, the patience, the dedication, all culminating in those fleeting seconds of pure photographic magic.
American Bittern (Botaurus lentiginosus, Butor d'Amérique, Avetoro lentiginoso, AMBI). During my Songbirds of Pelee Workshop at Point Pelee National Park of Canada. Image Copyright ©Christopher Dodds. Sony a9 III Mirrorless camera & Sony FE 400-800mm f/6.3-8 G OSS Lens @700mm ISO 6,400, f/8 @ 1/5,000s. Manual exposure.
