One of the most important elements of a successful photographic day afield is to simply be there. This holds true for every form of photography, however, when it comes to wildlife photography, being there is a mandatory prerequisite.
The Sunny Sixteen Nature Group is perhaps the most successful and well attended groups within the club. Julie and Mary Beth do a wonderful job organizing the various outings. Most are local, but a few take the members out of state. One of the best out of state locations is near Seymour, Indiana where upwards to 30,000 Sandhill Cranes spend the winter on their migration. They tend to use an area known as the Ewing Flats, just west of Seymour. This area is a flat expanse of farm country which apparently provides an appealing stop over for the migrating Sandhills.
The first Nature Group outing to Ewing Flats for the new year 2020 was scheduled for January 9th...and I was finally planning on attending this one. As luck would have it, circumstances arose that interfered with my being able to make it on that day, but, I would be able to go up a day or so earlier to check it out.
July 7th was my projected attempt and indeed I crawled out of bed at 4 AM to head out by 4:30. I wanted to get there early, around sunup, to take advantage of the morning light. About 90 miles up the road, my alternator started acting up and to spare you the heart rendering details, I managed to limp home by nursing the old Jeep back without destroying my battery or something else more mechanically critical. Spent the afternoon replacing the alternator...and, got up at 3:30 the next morning to give it another try.
Right at sunup, I was standing along the country road in Ewing Flats waiting for the Sandhills to begin stirring...and stir they did. The first light of the day proved the worth and effort of the early rise and drive as the sky was mostly clear, cold for sure, but free of troublesome clouds that often interferes with certain types of photography. What I did not yet know was this was just the warm up for the grand show that would come later in the day.
As the Sandhills began to stir and fill the morning sky with their graceful flight and chattel-like calls, I found myself snapping photos rapid fire...not paying attention to any of the photographic principles I so often try to emulate. The first one hundred or so shots where characterized as cliched snap shots of the Sandhill's flying, and standing in the fields, of which I already had hundreds if not thousands from previous attempts. I knew I wanted more...something to stand apart from what almost anyone can take. I needed quality, not quantity and so I began to evaluate what was happening and to formulate a plan on how to go about photographing these amazing birds that not only captured their unique blend of migratory endurance, but the flavor of their world and environment.
First off I looked for opportunities to get close to the birds...not an easy feat as they tend to be tolerant-shy of people, but they do not seem to be concerned with vehicles. My Jeep would make an excellent blind from which to shoot, and I knew from past experience with these birds, some will often land very close to the edge of the roads. It didn't take long to locate a small group loitering about 10 yards off the road. That is when I made my first mistake. I stopped, grabbed my camera, opened the door, and stepped out right in front of the birds. Within two seconds they were gone. Next time, I would park so the drivers-side door would open away from the birds and I would exit more quietly and shoot from behind the Jeep.
The main reason I wanted to step out of the Jeep instead of shooting from inside was I wanted to get low and look them in the eye instead of looking down on them. The idea is to immerse yourself into their world from their perspective. It took some practice but through the course of the day I managed to do just that; use the Jeep to block them from seeing me, and shoot from a sitting position.
I also wanted to find situations where the birds would be back-lit by the sun. This kind of light provides an excellent shape-defining glow around their frame and also serves to generate some very unique and interesting background light. The light begins to shine and reflect not just off them but through them.
By mid-afternoon I had already taken a good number of photos, including a Whooping Crane sighting, but I began to think about what the birds would do once the day approached sundown. They tend to feed all day in the fields, then go to water and then to roost. The trick was to figure out in what direction they would fly at sundown, then position myself in a location so as to isolate them against the setting sun. All I could do was guess and hope they would cooperate.
About an hour before sunset, they began to stir. I was positioned between where a large number of them were feeding in a field and the sun would set pretty much behind them. The idea was, regardless of what direction they would fly, at least some of them would be silhouetted against the sunset for a short time. Hopefully, I would be able to catch a few good photos with the sunset as the backdrop.
The camera you use is an amazing tool equipped with a wide variety of creative functions that can be used to accomplish what you the artist wants to create. I wanted rich, vivid colors, so I manually pushed the White Balance up to around the 9000-k degree light temperature setting which would create a much richer, warm-enhanced light. With any kind of luck, this would generate the combination of natural vs creative balance I needed.
The problem was, the birds began to leave too soon. The sun was a full hour from setting, and all the birds feeding in the fields began to rise up in mass and exit to the east, away from the where the sun was to set. Regardless, I did what I could shooting the flights as they passed overhead or nearby. Before long, most of the birds had left with just a few stragglers milling around. I debated about going ahead and leaving, but something in the back of my mind said..."Not just yet...stick around and see what happens."
I'm glad I listened. About 10 minutes or so before the sun was to set, I heard a huge flight of birds returning from the east heading straight into the sunset. Over the next half hour, thousands, and thousands of Sandhills flew overhead in wave after wave. I almost wore out my camera shooting rapid fire 10 frames a second as they drifted to and fro across the magnificent light that was forming across the horizon. I shot and shot until it go so dark, I could no longer shoot and when the spectacle was finally over, I knew the day had been a day I would never forget.
The few photo's I share here only touch the surface of what I experienced that day. I also took quite a few segments of video footage a stream of which you can watch at the bottom of this post.
Incredible adventure to say the least, an amazing red-letter day that will forever go down as one of the highlights of my photographic endeavor.
