Once again, a little photo-geekiness from me this morning. I know that some regular readers of Feathered Photography (especially those who are photographers themselves) sometimes wonder why I tend to use such fast shutter speeds so I thought I’d attempt an explanation.
Western Meadowlarks are now singing by the gazillion from their elevated perches on Antelope Island so I’m getting some opportunities for take-off shots.
Yesterday morning this Western Meadowlark surprised me and gave me an intimate glimpse into its world.
Yesterday morning I was able to get a nice take-off shot of a Western Meadowlark on Antelope Island.
Based on what I’m seeing in the field I’m wondering if some birds aren’t being tricked into spring activities too early.
Western Meadowlarks can be quite approachable when they’re singing on territory in the spring and summer but they’re generally shy at other times. So I was quite surprised yesterday morning when this one allowed a close approach as it preened on a snowy perch.
I took many, many shots of this crazy, mixed up Meadowlark this past spring and I posted a few of them previously. This is another one that I like.
Antelope Island is crawling (and flying) with “bugs” right now. Mosquitoes are common, flying midges are thick as are the dreaded biting gnats (I call this the “itching and bitching” season).
Avoiding “clipped” body parts is perhaps the biggest challenge associated with take-off shots.
When I’m photographing Western Meadowlarks at take-off there’s always one flight posture I hope I don’t get.
Yesterday I was able to get a shot of a Western Meadowlark that may be one of my favorite images of a songbird in flight. But there’s a potential flaw that niggles at me…
This was the strangest behavior I’ve ever seen from a meadowlark, though it was difficult to capture photographically.
The song of the meadowlark often stirs fond memories and thoughts of peaceful and melodious spring mornings. But for birds that song represents the tension of competition for territories and females – anything but tranquility.
In northern Utah, anticipating how long our Western Meadowlarks will stick around during winter is always a guessing game.
