



May 2010. Last year, when I was kayaking off
The sea lion had also noticed me and suddenly changed its course, heading strait at me. I kept taking pictures. The animal came very close, about a boat length away, and stayed there for a while as if checking me out. Maybe it was amused seeing such a strange creature on water. Or maybe someone had fed it before, and it was waiting for a snack. To me, it was an amazing experience: being so close to a curious wild animal.
After what felt like a minute or so, the sea lion had continued its journey, and I mine. Needless to say, this encounter had made my day.
To read and see the full photo story of my kayaking trip, please follow this link: Kayaking North Vancouver Island Straits Solo.

March 2010. The daylight started fading. My friend and I wrapped up the afternoon shoot and began hiking the forest trail back to the car. Suddenly, we heard a bird screaming and then some commotion. “A domestic dispute” -- I joked. We laughed and continued our walk. Then just a dozen steps ahead we saw a small bird sitting in a middle of the trail, next to another bird that was lying motionless.
My initial thought was that the sitting bird was protecting its partner fallen during some misfortune. However, when we got closer, I realized that this was a northern pygmy-owl holding its lifeless prey with one talon. Although the prey looked bigger and heavier than this little predator, the owl easily dragged it to the trail side and started feeding right away despite our presence, displaying no signs of distress. We set up our tripods and took a number of pictures.
One interesting feature of this species is the eye-like spots on the back, apparently to confuse the predators. They looked so natural that sometimes it was hard to tell if the owl was looking at us or away. We soon moved on, leaving the owl to finish its meal.


October 2009. The forecast called for rain, and
lots of it, up to 50 millimeters by nightfall. I had signed up for a five-hour
birding tour on a sightseeing boat and had no choice but to go, as the trip had
already been paid for and it was way too late to cancel. My neighbors, seeing
me heading outside into the heavy rain with a photo backpack, joked that I had
forgotten my canoe. I expected that this
foul weather would also discourage everyone else. However, when I joined the
rest of the group hiding from the rain under an overhang roof at the dock, the
mood was completely different: people were energetic and ready to go. The
birders (virtually everyone else in the group) were consoling themselves by
sharing a comment that the pelagic birds would not fly in heavy rain preferring
to stay in water, so the chances of seeing them would be much higher than on a
dry day. I suspected that this was going to be a lost day for me,
from the photography point of view, but decided to give it a try, braving the
elements and staying dry and warm as long as I could.
Soon after the departure, I had to put away my long telephoto lens and switched
to a wide-range zoom. There was no chance to get a sharp picture with the long telephoto
through this heavy rain. However, I was expecting some opportunities for the
seascapes and for the environmental pictures of birds and marine mammals,
where the rain would convey the mood of the moment. A wide-range zoom, although
by its nature not the sharpest lens design around, had a major advantage:
I did not have to change the lenses -- a very unpleasant operation in wet
environment. With a rain cover on, I had taken a number of pictures in rain,
from birds and sea lions to seascapes. The rain had finally stopped
shortly before our trip ended, and I had also managed to get some almost sunny day
pictures.
After coming back and reviewing the images on the computer screen, it was clear,
as suspected, that all pictures of the birds and the sea lions taken in heavy
rain ended up looking grainy and fuzzy. However, I was stricken by the low-key
beauty of the picture above, with the lighthouse almost disappearing in the
rain and fog, and the trail of our boat adding some dimension and a sense of
place.
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