Something different
After a solid week of avoiding the rain and a few trips to other bird watching sites, I finally made it back to the West Hylebos Wetlands Park. It was a warm, sunny midday trip and I decided to leave the still camera in the bag and break out the video.
It was the perfect compromise.
I usually put a lot less pressure on myself to come up with something brilliant when I use the video camera, and most of the birds and wildlife I saw were a bit too far away for good photos anyway. But that doesn't mean they weren't worth capturing on some other medium.
Perhaps the most exciting discovery of the day came when I flushed a pair of green herons in their nesting plumage. I haven't seen these birds at the Hylebos since late April, and not the pair together since last summer. But they have returned and seemed content with the food and shelter available at Marlake pond.
I've seen photographs of these birds taken at unbelievably close distances and I'm always amazed that other photographers find them so willing to pose for the camera. Not at the Hylebos. The green herons that spend time at the Hylebos are perhaps the wisest and wiliest birds found there. A long lens and a ton of patience only yielded me two decent images last summer.
On Sunday, I would spot one (not before it took off in front of me) and I would sneak up on it from the spot where I saw it disappear into the trees. Then nothing. Vanished.
Suddenly, the bird would explode from the cattails at my feet and yell out a startled KAAAACK! and fly back to the spot from which it had originally fled. I snuck back around the perimeter of the pond, only to repeat the same scenario without getting a photo or a second of video.
The closest encounter I experienced last Sunday was a messy one, to say the least. I hid under an aspen tree next to the bank of the pond and looked out over the water in search of the herons. From the cattails the bird emerged and flew directly towards me. Unaware of my presence, the bird set its wings and landed on an overhanging branch less than a foot above my head. The bird regained his balance on the limb after his short flight, took one look below at me, and exploded from the aspen bough back towards the water. His loud call (which you'll hear on the video) was startling enough at that distance, but not as surprising as when he covered my arms, camera and tripod in a jet blast of thick, white poop.
No doubt many photographers have seen the bird up close, but I would wager none have had that experience. Too bad I never pushed the record button.
Watch and enjoy. I hope you'll find it worth 2 minutes of your time.
You might need to download the latest version of quicktime media player from www.quicktime.com
There is another video of an American bittern and tons of photos from the Hylebos and beyond on my website, www.sethbynum.com.
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