Kingfishers are a bit of superstars in the realm of birds. So it comes as a surprise how often they actually go unnoticed. A lot of these beautiful birds dwell near us humans. It's not that they are dedicated synanthrope as for example Common Sparrows, crows or kestrels. Usually they have no alternative. They suffer from a dramatic loss of habitat. They hunt from well hidden look-outs such as overhanging branches or twigs and they need steep, sandy or loamy banks to nest in. Both have become exceptionally rare in modern agricultural landscape, so they take what they can get.
In my hometown, there are at least four hunting grounds, which the kingfishers visit frequently. All four are hotspots for human recreation. But despite the popularity of its hunting grounds, its flamboyant colours, its ear-piercing call and its eye-catching flight, nearly everyone seems to overlook our little superstar-bird.
I captured the first image at an old cemetery that serves more as a local park than an actual graveyard. In its middle sits a lake. Around this lake, there are at least five benches, offering rest for walkers. One sunny fall-morning, I was on the outlook for the little fellow and after some minutes, I heard his hunting-call. He kept hidden in the overhanging trees for some more minutes, before he set watch on a high and well visible branch just over the centre of the lake. In a period of about one and a half hour, he made at least five dives, two or three of it successful. After each dive, he vanished into the protection of the dense bushes, waited, gave his piercing call and then perched again. Me and the bird were surrounded of dozens of walkers and - surprisingly - Pokemon-Go players. No one took any notice of the bird. And the bird? Well, he did not take any notice either. He continued his hunt. Then, he vanished over the railroad tracks. This was when I thought, I might call him the Stoic.