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, where the wind blows around you and carries away your worries. In my last report about my stay in the Dutch Wadden Sea, I’ll write about a lovely beach walk where I let myself uitwaaien and took a few pictures along the way.
My stay on Texel this year was incredibly eventful. Photographing golden plovers in the Wadden Sea and various wading birds at a pond is just one of my many experiences. I also reconnected with numerous friends, including Melissa, whom I hadn’t seen since 2020. I met up with Carlijn and Lieke, two Dutch friends with whom I had spent three years on the board of the Waddenvereniging’s excursion working group (WEX). The list of Dutch friends I don’t see often since moving away from Nijmegen is long. On Texel, I enjoyed encounters with Adriaan, Hanneke, Jasmijn, Lonneke, Lot, Saré, Sean, and Tjitske. Of course, I was also delighted to make new friends like Aranaka, Enzo, and Orpha. We laughed so much!
Whether birds can relate to the concept of uitwaaien is hard to determine, especially since they can’t speak. However, one could argue that the way they interact with their environment—gliding on the wind, foraging in the open air, and moving freely—might reflect a similar enjoyment of being outdoors and the refreshing effects of fresh air. In that sense, they might have their own version of uitwaaien!
On my last day on Texel, I was the last one left in our colourful group—except for a few of us who work at the Royal Netherlands Institute for Sea Research and live on Texel, everyone else had left our beloved island. I decided to take the last ferry to the mainland and experience one last sunset at the beach of De Slufter. In this stretch of beach, I could regularly observe various gulls that I wanted to photograph. Of course, I also just wanted to uitwaaien.
Nature gifts us with energy.
I strolled through the wind and eventually discovered two Eurasian Oystercatchers (Haematopus ostralegus). Due to my frequent visits to the Dutch Wadden Sea, oystercatchers had never particularly interested me. Once on Terschelling, I found an active oystercatcher nest right next to the bike path. I wouldn’t have been surprised if the nesting birds had eaten worms from my hands. In short, oystercatchers always felt to me like the pigeons of the Wadden Sea, while other species sparked greater interest.
Oystercatchers were named Bird of the Year in the Netherlands twice in a row (2022 and 2023). This measure aims to draw attention to the significant decline in their numbers.
Meanwhile, when I think of oystercatchers, I often think of a friend and fellow bird photographer, Eric, whom I met at the Baltic Sea. Eric was surprised that oystercatchers didn’t interest me, as they are rather rare along the Baltic coast. I decided to take a few photos of oystercatchers for Eric.
There’s not much to say about the approach. I began to crawl towards the oystercatchers from a distance. I crawled a few meters, then watched the birds for a few minutes before crawling a bit further. The approach took a long time, but it felt enjoyable as I savored the moment. The sun warmed my back, and the sound of the sea filled my ears. After about an hour, I had approached the oystercatchers to a photographic distance. Once I had the shots I wanted, I carefully backed away from the oystercatchers without disturbing them.
I continued my beach walk, but it wasn’t long before I encountered my next subject. A few sanderlings (Calidris alba) scurried along the water’s edge. Due to their trustfulness, I find sanderlings to be quite rewarding photographic subjects, and my archive is filled with sanderling photos taken in Portugal, the Dutch Wadden Sea, or along the German Baltic coast. However, the light was beautiful, so I lay down on the ground once more.
Sanderlings feed on small invertebrates and organic remains left on the beach when the waves recede.
In my swim trunks, the waves crashing on the beach didn’t bother me at all. I simply held my camera up to protect it from the water. One of the most beautiful aspects of photography for me is feeling nature in its entirety. After photographing the sanderlings, I took one last dip in the North Sea. To dry off, I just strolled along the beach.
I’m thrilled to start this blog with a post about the Dutch Wadden Sea. I hope my descriptions of my stay on Texel are interesting not only from a photographic and ornithological perspective but also showcase the wonderful experiences that come with bird photography. I truly enjoy sharing my hobby with other bird enthusiasts. Who knows who I’ll be out in nature with next time!
