birdphotography

At the North Sea (winter ed. with zeitweise.art) /  by Arne Bischoff

Introduction

October and November have been two months of photographical inspiration for me. Late October, I visited the wonderful annual nature photography festival at Lünen, hosted by the German Society For Nature Photography and home to the European Wildlife Photographer Of The Year, one of the most prestigous competitions there is, and the equally impressive membership competition, GDT Nature Photographer of the Year. I visit “Lünen” every year since quite a long time and I love everything there. The lectures, the exhibitions, the people and the meeting of old friends. And it inspires me. The word has become quite trite and trivial in the last few years, and I don’t use it lightly. I often struggle withe my own fascination for photography, more often not even taking the camera with me, but only my binoculars.

To add onto the inspiration and to learn, I went for the photographic double-feature and on a “zeitweise”-workshop directly after Lünen. Jan and Hermann of zeitweise.art have established themselves as creative pioneers in the European nature photography realm. I have been following them for quite some time now, hearing talks, bought a book and watching their Youtube. It is their collaborative, inclusive and down-to-earth approach that really got me in. Learning to see and photograph what’s in front of you rather than travelling to Antarctica. Representing what you see in an artistic way that conveys a spirit, a mood, a tone rather than hitting the holy Instagram-trifecta of sharp, close-up and colorful.

Admittedly, this is a longish introduction. But it sets a tone, too and it might help you understand the imagery on this blogpost.

At high tide, thousands of Dunlins (Calidris alpina) rest at the beaches of Baltrum.

Baltrum (An island in the Wadden Sea)

North of the German mainland lie the East Frisian Islands within the Wadden Sea. Baltrum is the smallest of the seven main islands. The whole area is entirely dependent by the tide. At low tide you could walk the ten kilometers to mainland Germany. At high tide, you feel the power of the North Sea. During bird migration, the whole Wadden Sea area is the resting place of around 12 million migratory birds. And with low temperatures and strong winds in late October, early November, there is not a lot of tourism. One up: There are no cars allowed to the island. It’s a breath of fresh air and so liberating. Baltrum was the perfect canvas for a week of nature photography.

European herring gull (Larus argentatus) with a crustacean in its beak.

Birds

When you are on an island like Baltrum during migration season, birds are a natural motive. Purple sandpipers (Calidris maritima) and Ruddy turnstones (Arenaria interpres) shelter from high tide at the north end of the island. Thousands of Dunlins, Red Knots (Calidris canutus), Eurasian curlews (Numenius arquata) and other waders doing the same at the westernmost beaches. White-tailed eagles (Haliaeetus albicilla) and different kinds of harriers hunt while small arctic songbirds like Snow buntings (Plectrophenax nivalis), Horned larks (Eremophila alpestris) or Redwings (Turdus iliacus) gather some well needed strength for their further journeys.

Waves

When at Sea, make sure to photograph waves. Large ones, small ones, fast shutter speeds, slow shutter speeds, crashing waves, calm waves. Do waves!

Scapes

Sunset over the Wadden Sea at low tide.

I usually use the term “scapes” as a more abstract form of still life. Could be a landscape, seascape, cityscape or an abstract macro. Luckily, the island was full of such visuals. Sunsets over the Wadden Sea at low tide. Abstracts of the sea or seashells.

Woodlands

Crouching birch trees, impressionistic style.

Amidst the island of Baltrum, well-hidden between the large sand dunes is a very small but beautiful forest. All the trees crouch down and low. As long as they are not growing too tall, they are protected from the wind by the larger dunes. If they grow too tall, the merciless wind takes over and bends them into even weirder shapes. And those trees lend themselves very well to some experiments with ICM-photography (intentional camera movement).

Workshop wrap-up

Me and the Dunlins. 📷 zeitweise.art | Instagram-Story

It has been a great week. The workshop-setting worked well for me. Hermann and Jan were wonderful guides, well prepared with a lot of tasks and a lot of time to be creative; great feedback, friendly, solidaric and on point - which set the tone for the whole group: collaboration is key. And it was great fun. Highly recommended!

More:
https://www.zeitweise.art/workshop
https://www.instagram.com/zeitweise.art/
https://www.youtube.com/@zeitweise

At the Baltic Sea /  by Arne Bischoff

January 2022 had it all, although it is long gone now. A new hope and a return to an old love. The beautiful Baltic Sea. A long weekend that felt like a full-on holiday brought me to the Darss peninsula in eastern Germany. A place that is as famous for its long sandy shorelines, dramatic dunes and pine forests, abundance of birds and other wildlife and its solitude in winter, as it is for overtourism in summer. It is just a good place to be.

The western beach (Weststrand) of Darss peninsula.

A walk down the shore

The Darss peninsula is a really young landscape - in geological terms: Dating back only 12,000 years to the Weichselian glaciation. Originally an island, about 1,500 years ago the growing spits attached it to the land. By the end of the 14th century it finally became a peninsula. Both the Weststrand and the Nordstrand are famous for its long beachlines and large sanddunes with dramatic woods, reed beds and marshes. The area is of international importance as rest area for migrating birds and as wintering grounds especially for arctic seabirds. Maybe even more famous are the large herds of Red deer and Wild boar in the region. And of course, it’s beautiful there.

My favorite of all birds! “Rokk, rokk!”

A feast for Crows Ravens

One long walk along the western shores revealed two Common ravens scavenging on a carcass. Given their behaviour and the time of year, they seemed to be a breeding pair.

Over a period of over an hour at least one Raven, oftentimes both, worked the cadaver with astounding stamina. They allowed me quite close - laying flat down in the sand - to take some images. Thank you very much, lovely Ravens, my favorite of all birds.

Eye-level with a Raven and a carcass.
📷 by Nicole | Instagram: Apples ‘n’ Pears Interior

Thousands and thousands of ducks

Ahead of Nordstrand thousands and thousands of ducks were bobbing up and down. Way to far for a photography, but not too far to be watched through the spotting scope. One moment, when a lifeboat left the harbor to go on a routine ride, all of it (or at least it felt like that) went up in the air at once and left me open mouthed. So many ducks: Common eiders, Common scoters, Velvet scoters, Long-tailed ducks, Northern pintails and Greater scaups were making up for the lion’s share. A Northern gannet flew by.

Adorable little Sanderlings (Calidris alba)

The shoreline had its bird-stars, too. A flock of ever so active Sanderlings went in and out, hither and tither with the incoming waves. Again, I found myself flat down in the sands. A young Black-headed gull posed beautifully in the waves. I only missed out on the Snow buntings in my back that were busy searching the wash margins for food and chose to concentrate on the more beautiful background that the sea provided.

Sanderlings in the tide.

A long craved boar pic

I am a firm believer that Wild boar are a shamefully overlooked species, when it comes to nature photography. In an Instagram post from 2021, I challenged myself and all fellow nature photographers to take more images of those amazing animals. It was only two months later that I succeeded with some images that I hold very dear. As I do the whole trip and the person, who did it with me.

They were both incredibly close and extremely well camouflaged in the reeds. It was a special moment, being as close to wild animals that are often - and falsely - touted as aggressive and dangerous. Of course, they know how to look after themselves, as Hagrid would put it. But here, they chose the distance, as it should always be with wildlife photography. They roamed the reeds along the footpaths, relying on their incredible camouflage. Focussing was difficult. But you could hear them from time to time, making wonderful swine sounds and then you could see them and all was wonderful.

A true master of camouflage.

 

The real meaning of 1st. /  by Arne Bischoff

A Bohemian waxwing taking off with its favorite food.

Seeing a bird for the first time is a special and thrilling feat for most birdwatchers and -enthusiasts. Back in January I had this very pleasure. Bohemian waxwings came in quite some numbers to Northern Germany. This isn’t too unusual and happens every few years. But since I am still a newbie in terms of birdwatching, I did not yet experience this occasion.

From the very beginning of my birding-thing, I was fascinated with some species in particular. First of all, there is my much beloved Raven - all kinds of Corvidae in fact. And I really have a fancy for the wonderful Spotted nutcrackers, Sanderlings and Common Ringed Plovers. Less originally though, I have always been fond of some of the the more colorful species since I acquired the great “Kosmos Vogelführer” - such as the Atlantic puffin, the Great kingfisher, the Bluethroat and of course the Bohemian Waxwing. Scandinavia-lover who I am, those Waxwings had a head start into my heart and the fact that one of my most appreciated wildlife photographers, Markus Varesvuo from Finland, often shared waxwing images helped with my fascination.

“When word spread that Waxwings were here, I became a little thrilled.”

I had to wait until this year to see it. When word spread with the local ornithologists that Waxwings were here, I became a little thrilled. I went out with my trusted binoculars, but without success on the first outing. Since they usually feast on Mistletoes, Rowan-berries and Common snowball I kept my good mood and was sincere to find it. One day later a large flock has been reported at a local camping site - easily accessible via car. What happened next was an unpleasant surprise. Loads of birdlovers and -photographers swarmed the place. All well equipped with hiking boots and trousers and heavy packs and what not - right within the city. More annoyingly they behaved as if this was there place, coursing the campers for scaring off the birds, getting in the way of everyone, noising and being way too full of themselves.

What was missing was the waxwings - smart little birds they are. I decided that this was not my place and went for a long stroll around a nearby lake, breathed deeply and forgot all the annoyance, came back - all those Waxwing-hunters had been gone, sat down and waited for ten minutes or so and was rewarded with a flock of 37 birds: noising and brawling and enjoying the Snowball berries. The light was wonderfully subdued. Short: I couldn’t have been more lucky.

“It’s not about ticking some species off of a list.”

The rest is history they say. One happy photographer with a shitload of images to process. Forgotten my irritation about those noisy birdloving photographers I met before. The magic of the moment took over. So I put aside the camera, grabbed my binoculars and watched and listened. Isn’t this what it’s all about? It’s not about ticking some species off of a list. It’s not about hunting for an image as inquisitive passerby oft ask. It’s about experiencing the moment, learning about the ways and behaviour of wild animals that are not subject to man. This is the real meaning of a first. The moment that you will only experience once. This excitement, this joy.