The movement was quick. I saw the bird. I am not sure if it saw me. I jumped into action, changing my lenses. It jumped from tree to tree. I managed to sneak up on it. I let my finger on the shutter, and I captured a couple of quick photographs. It flew to the front of the car, where we all stood. I ran after it, managing to capture a last couple of photographs before it felt the need to put more distance between the two of us.
While driving through Marloth Park, the small town in the bushveld I wrote about earlier this week, we stopped at a gate to look into the Kruger National Park. I am always on the lookout for the various species of hornbill birds that reside in this area. And it was not long before this one stopped in front of us.
The lighting was in many respect perfect for the shot. The rather deepish green contrasted with a type of white background of the clouds. The bird's white and black feathers foregrounded by the deep yet soft background.
Some of the photographs was a bit dark, but eventually, I managed to the the lighting to work.
In those split second moments, you cannot always change the settings on the older cameras. That is one of the drawbacks shooting with a 2007 camera. Some of the shots will just be lost, you cannot rely too heavily on the camera's settings.
Some shots you get, some shots you lose. That is just the rules of the game.
While some of the photographs, like the one on the left, came out a bit darker, the silhouette type shot is still worthy.
It makes the bird look more photogenic, with its soft feathers, its strong beak. It gives the photograph almost an otherworldly feeling, or in fact a worldly feeling. This bird is from here. And it is defending its territory by standing proud.
But it also gives it a violent look. Like the beak can do some serious damage should it decide to use it against you. Should it decide to defend itself against something that might harm it.
In all of these looks, it remains beautiful and majestic. Almost spiritual. (I am awarding this bird various adjectives, but it really drives me to think about it in these terms.)
In the end, like most other photographic moments, I was just lucky to have seen the bird. It was, like many other, a brief moment that in its brevity found its meaning. If these birds were as common as doves and pigeons, we would probably not have paid much attention to them. In their scarcity, their brevity, they find their poetic moments in the camera viewfinder and then eventually the photograph.
I hope that you enjoyed these photographs.
Happy photographing!
All of the musings and writings are my own, albeit inspired by this beautiful bird. The photographs are my own, taken with my Nikon D300 and Tamron 300mm zoom lens.