Wader Autumn Migration on Texel – II

28. August 2024

Mor­ning hours have gold in their mouth is a well-known Ger­man pro­verb. While I often strugg­le to get out of bed in my dai­ly life, I can’t get up ear­ly enough in my free time. Most birds are most acti­ve in the ear­ly mor­ning hours. Addi­tio­nal­ly, as a pho­to­grapher, I can approach my fea­the­red sub­jects under the cover of dark­ness wit­hout sca­ring them away. The fact that the light around sun­ri­se is the most beau­tiful light of the day is the icing on the cake. In this second post about this year’s autumn migra­ti­on of wading birds, I’ll share how I took advan­ta­ge of the ear­ly mor­ning hours to pho­to­graph various wading birds at a small pond.

This sum­mer, I spent the end of August on the island of Texel. During a walk with a fri­end, I noti­ced a pond in the De Sluf­ter natu­re reser­ve. This pond was home to various spe­ci­es, inclu­ding Com­mon Green­s­hank (Tringa nebu­la­ria), Wood sand­pi­per (Tringa glareo­la), Green Sand­pi­per (Tringa ochro­pus), and Com­mon Sni­pe (Gal­li­na­go gal­li­na­go). It fea­tured spe­ci­es that I wan­ted to pho­to­graph again, as my best pho­tos of Green­s­hanks and Green Sand­pi­pers are old, I’m not satis­fied with my Sni­pe pho­tos, and I had never cap­tu­red a Wood Sand­pi­per befo­re. The small lake see­med to offer ide­al con­di­ti­ons to impro­ve my pho­to archive.

 

The Green­s­hanks were alre­a­dy wading through the water long befo­re sun­ri­se. Pho­to­gra­phing in this dark­ness is chal­len­ging, but the light­ing con­di­ti­ons make it par­ti­cu­lar­ly rewarding.

 

In the fol­lo­wing days, I visi­ted the pond three more times, twice with fri­ends. The only thing bet­ter than orni­tho­lo­gy is enjoy­ing it as a group acti­vi­ty. During each visit to the pond, we saw my »tar­get spe­ci­es.« While wal­king, I alre­a­dy con­side­red whe­re I would posi­ti­on mys­elf for the shoot, gui­ded by the fol­lo­wing ques­ti­ons: Which spots along the shore are acces­si­ble for me? What back­ground would the pho­tos have from tho­se spots? Whe­re would the sun be?

 

The Green Sand­pi­pers often approa­ched me to within the mini­mum focu­sing distance of my came­ra. I had never befo­re seen that you could look through the nostrils in their beaks.

 

The­re was no ques­ti­on about the approach for the shoot. I would ste­alt­hi­ly make my way to the shore in the night­ti­me dark­ness to avo­id sca­ring the birds away. The wea­ther report pre­dic­ted sin­gle-digit tem­pe­ra­tures for the next few nights. Sin­ce lying on the ground in such tem­pe­ra­tures can lead to quick­ly get­ting cold—and I would need to lie the­re for seve­ral hours—I had to wait a few days until the shoot.

 

Only the heart cap­tures the most beau­tiful moments

 

On that eager­ly awai­ted mor­ning, my alarm went off at 3:30 AM. About half an hour later, I arri­ved at the pond. I spray­ed mys­elf gene­rous­ly with anti-mos­qui­to spray (high­ly recom­men­ded!), put on my camou­fla­ge suit, crept to the shore, and lay down in the sui­ta­ble spot. It was cold, but beara­ble. Sin­ce it was still too dark to pho­to­graph, I took a litt­le rest. With the upco­ming shoot in mind, it would have been impos­si­ble for me to sleep; my exci­te­ment was too great.

 

Final­ly, a Wood Sand­pi­per! I first spot­ted this wading bird with its beau­tiful back pat­tern in 2021, but I didn’t mana­ge to take my first pho­to until three years later.

 

Two sni­pe wadd­led grumbling through the shal­low water from the oppo­si­te shore, coming within two or three arm lengths of me. Tho­se who have expe­ri­en­ced such moments know how spe­cial they are. Such encoun­ters at such clo­se ran­ge and in the dark­ness can never be cap­tu­red in photos.

 

 

Befo­re sun­ri­se, I was able to take my first pho­tos. I used a bean bag as a tri­pod and the burst mode on my came­ra. In burst mode, my came­ra takes seven shots per second. This way, amidst many blur­ry pho­tos, I usual­ly mana­ge to get one or two sharp images.

This time, howe­ver, I found that all the pho­tos were unusable. The reason: the front lens had fog­ged up. For a moment, I thought all my effort had been in vain, as I still don’t know of any reme­dy for fog­ged len­ses. I deci­ded to wait a bit, then clea­ned the lens, and if it fog­ged up again, I would sim­ply keep wai­ting. After all, it was still near­ly night, and I hoped the lens wouldn’t fog up again with the break of dawn.

My hope was ful­fil­led. I first cap­tu­red shots of the Green­s­hank, and then the Green Sand­pi­pers came clo­se to me. The Wood Sand­pi­pers also made an appearance and posed for the came­ra. Even the shy Sni­pe show­ed up later. Other visi­tors at the pond included Com­mon Reds­hank (Tringa tota­nus), a young Euro­pean Spoon­bill (Pla­ta­lea leu­co­ro­dia), and White Wag­tail (Mot­acil­la alba).

 

 

As it was rela­tively calm that mor­ning, the water sur­face was quite smooth in places, and I enjoy­ed incor­po­ra­ting the reflec­tions of the birds into my images. Dif­fe­rent lay­ers of clouds pas­sed in front of the rising sun, crea­ting a varie­ty of light­ing con­di­ti­ons and color nuan­ces within just a few moments. This mor­ning could­n’t have been more beautiful.

 

Discover more

Purple sandpipers in Warnemünde

Purple sandpipers in Warnemünde

War­ne­mün­de isn’t my usu­al spot for pho­to­gra­phy. It’s too tou­ris­ty, crow­ded, and noisy—peace is hard to come by here. But once a year, War­ne­mün­de turns into some­thing tru­ly spe­cial, and no, I’m not tal­king about the Han­se Sail. Each autumn and win­ter, a small group of Pur­ple sand­pi­pers makes an appearance. The­se har­dy litt­le crea­tures scour the harbour’s break­wa­ters in search of food.

Wader Autumn Migration on Texel – III

Wader Autumn Migration on Texel – III

The Dutch verb uitwaaien doesn't translate well into German. It is pronounced something like "autweien" and is made up of the words uit (meaning "out") and waaien (meaning "to blow"). Uitwaaien refers to going for a walk in the fresh air, preferably at the beach,...

Wader Autumn Migration on Texel – I

Wader Autumn Migration on Texel – I

Memories are the gold of our soul, a life-experienced friend once told me. Against the backdrop of this thought, I want to kick off this blog with a post about my European Golden Plover shooting in August. I spotted the goldies in the Dutch Wadden Sea during low tide,...