Peanuts In My Pocket

I’ve spent the better part of a year working on a birding project: photographing 150 different species using my digital camera setup. It’s been a learning experience on multiple fronts. Prior to this, I knew very little about birds beyond a few favorites, and I had rarely tried to capture them in beautiful photographs. My background is in urban photography, pictures that highlight the harshness of our surroundings in ways that can be unexpectedly compelling or even beautiful.

Gear and Expectations

I use two camera systems: Nikon and Fuji. My Fuji setup, an X-Pro3, is almost exclusively for street photography. For birding, I started with a Nikon D750 paired with a 70–300mm zoom, but eventually upgraded to a Z8 with a 180–600mm zoom.

I assumed the new camera would improve my success rate. It did help me capture more species, but when I recently organized this year’s photos, I realized the overall quality hadn’t improved as much as I expected. That said, I’ve now reached 150 species and may add a few more before the project wraps up on Thanksgiving.

Process and Productivity

In pursuit of this goal, I’ve taken over 11,000 bird photos this year. I recently upgraded from my reliable 2013-era Mac Pro to a new MacBook Pro, mainly because the old machine made organizing and importing images a slow and painful process. I had to rely on too many workarounds.

While sorting this year’s shots, I learned that my hit rate for what I consider “good” bird photos is about 5 percent, noticeably lower than my standard for non-birding photography. That’s frustrating, but I’m still learning, and I remain optimistic.

Bird #150: Dana Point Disappointment (Sort Of)

Recently, I took a short trip to Dana Point, hoping to find bird number 150. I snapped 250 photos during what turned out to be a disappointing birding outing, though it was a lovely getaway with my wife. I hadn’t been to Dana Point in decades, possibly 45 years or more.

Unfortunately, the weather didn’t cooperate. Strong winds, light rain, and cold temperatures kept the birds huddled on distant jetties. Most of my photos were unusable, and by “most,” I mean all but three or four.

That said, I did manage to photograph bird number 150, a Black Oystercatcher. The photo is only good enough for identification purposes, but it still counts.

While reviewing my images in Lightroom, I culled the batch from 250 to 195, removing the worst offenders: out-of-focus shots, motion blur, bad compositions. From those, only two stood out, a Western Gull and a Rock Dove (pigeon). There’s one more image I like for its accidental, artistic aesthetic. A few others are marginally okay. The rest are grey silhouettes of birds against even greyer skies. I plan to delete most of what’s left.

On Flight, Failure, and the Next Step

My conclusion: post-processing helped salvage a few images for ID, but I still don’t know how to photograph birds in flight effectively.

That said, I’m not discouraged. While the bird photos didn’t turn out, I took some surprisingly strong iPhone shots of Dana Point itself, proof that beautiful images are possible, even on a phone. This tells me the gap in my bird photography is mostly about technique, not equipment. I know I’m doing something wrong, I just don’t know what yet.

My next step is to learn new techniques and apply them in the field. As I look ahead to next year, mastering birds-in-flight photography is high on my list.

A Familiar Curve

Looking back over decades of photography, this learning curve feels familiar. When I started shooting film-based weddings and events in the 1980s, I faced similar challenges and worked through them. Later, I found myself in a single-engine plane photographing boats during yacht races. That learning curve was steep too, but I stuck with it.

In many ways, learning today is easier. Feedback is instant, and the cost per photo is significantly lower, unless you count the equipment costs.