A bright day with the hazy Sun peering through stratus cloud; blackthorn blossoms sweetened the air and heightened the senses, spring seems to have begun. Bees delicately visited the pink-white flowers and the song of small birds came from every tree.
We made a bee-line for tower hide, spotting greylag and Canada geese lining up along the banks of the lagoons on the way. Cetti’s warblers exploded in song, buried somewhere deep along the edges of the path. Tufted duck, pochard, mute swans and great crested grebes dabbled and drifted on the pools of water. Tower hide boasted mixed rafts of shoveler and teal, with the occasional shelduck and gadwall. A heron hunted in the distant pools. A majestic marsh harrier perched in a scrubby tree, surveying the view over the reedbed. Taking to the sky on broad, fingered wings, looking straight into the hide, or so it seemed, then skimming the roof and away.
Rather than risk the sticky mud that can frequent the trail at this time of year, we turned back and made our way towards fen hide. At first, little moved, except a dabbling coot. Then, thanks to some other visitors who pointed out the ‘ping’ call coming from the reeds, my first ever photograph of a wild bearded tit – a pair presented themselves to the onlookers from the hide, the male showing off his beautiful markings from the tip of a reed momentarily before flitting away and beckoning his mate to follow.
Seeing such a small version of a turtle that is hoping to grow so large and has a huge struggle in front of them was something I found interesting and something to reflect on and gain perspective from.
In day to day life we think we may have it hard and things aren't going our way, and it is such a struggle. But when compared to this little guy we have it easy! He has it so hard I could have easily not spotted him and stepped on him and that's it. Some giant shoe ends his entire life. Over.
And yet we worry and complain and feel like it is so hard our lives.
A pale sky, blanket cloud filtering the Sun’s light as it tried to break through. The songs of robins, blue tits and great tits serenaded visitors as they tumbled out of their cars and into the reserve. Chatting to one of the volunteers in the visitors centre, we were told that bearded tits were showing well around the reserve, as were marsh harriers. With optimism, we set out to see what we could find. The staccato shouts of wrens coming from the sides of the visitor trails guided our way towards New Fen Viewpoint. A serenely calm pool awaited us, the surface disturbed only by two coots dabbling and diving, a few mallards and gadwalls and a great crested grebe proudly showing its red mohican above a white cheek. A trail through the reed bed, adjacent to the main path revealed more wrens. Cetti’s warblers began their appealing song whilst remaining deep within the vegetation. The whistling calls of a coil of wigeon passed overhead. Canada geese and mute swans graced the neighbouring pools and a great spotted woodpecker could be heard drumming in the surrounding trees.
Stonchat (m)
Despite listening keenly for bearded tits on our way to Mere hide, we were not in luck. The pool at the hide was just as calm as the previous viewpoint, this time with a coot, a moorhen and four mallards disturbing the placid water. A pair of wrens burst from the reeds, chasing each other along a corridor through the vegetation. Never before today had I really believed that the wren is the UK’s most numerous breeding bird. Almost as if they were respecting the silence, a flock of lapwings flew over the hide as we made our exit, their chunky square wings silhouetted against the brightening sky. At the hide and on the trail leading away were empty platforms offering grit to the invisible bearded tits.
On the trail to joist fen viewpoint, instead of bearded tits, we found a reed bunting picking grit from the path, flying only a few metres ahead each time we approached before eventually veering off into the safety of reeds and trees.
Great white egret
A footpath parallel to the reserve boundary, following the River Little Ouse gave an elevated view over the reserve and surrounding countryside. A pair of stonechats flitted between tall grasses and reed heads, almost bouncing up and down as they transferred from one stem to another. A kestrel hung in the sky, hovering, and then, missing its meal, rested in the woodland trees. The lakes beyond the river, looking away from the reserve boasted jewels of colour: shoveler, teal, lapwings, little egrets. The largest was the tall, yellow-billed great white egret, towering above the little egrets, despite being further away. Broken oyster shells littered the sides of the path. Back in the reserve, a whole gang of long tailed tits decorated the heads of tall reed stems and a single leafless tree amidst the rustling golden stalks. They jingled through like early blossoms drifting from the tree.
Re-entering the reserve trail, blue tits and great tits littered the feeders by the visitor’s centre and a kestrel perched on a tree in the car park. A pair of roe deer bade us farewell at the reserve entrance.
A brisk Valentine ’s Day walk in the dappled afternoon sunshine around Pensthorpe Natural Park gave us some unexpected sightings. Meandering through the wave garden, the bright white stars of snowdrops illuminating the leaf litter and bark chippings, heralding the beginning of early spring. A little egret similarly lighting up the opposite bank as we passed, balancing the great crested grebe on water, on our way to the wader scrape hides. Here, an oystercatcher pulled worms mercilessly from the bank, whilst rafts of teal dabbled and dived. A small coil of wigeon pulled at the grasses and a desert of lapwings pee-witted to each other, standing ankle deep in the water. A smattering of other ducks; shelduck, mallard and shoveler, brightened the scene. We crossed the River Wensum, startling a moorhen and a pair of teal, making our way up towards the wildflower meadow and woodland. Across the meadow, we saw our first bird of prey: a male kestrel quartering and alighting in a slender tree. A trio of redpoll landed unwittingly in a tree nearby.
Delving into the woodland, we were met by the evening songs of birds; blue tit, great tit, finches and others, alongside the disappearing white rump of a roe deer. The woodland hide had some unusual invaders amongst its usual visitors of tits and finches. Two male mandarin ducks waited below the bird feeders for seeds to drop. A muntjac deer joined the fray briefly before blending back into the surrounding trees. Leaving the hide, we were met by several roe deer hiding behind low branches, and a young deer, less shy than the others, eyeballing us from the safety of the trees. A buzzard mewed overhead.
Making our way back to the visitors centre, tufted ducks showed off their contrasting colours on the lake and were joined by a goosander, it’s streamlined shape standing out against the stockier forms of the ducks. A quartet of displaying oystercatchers heralded our way out of the park.
Walking along the railway line near Keswick Mill, the air was filled with the plaintive song of the robin. In every direction, in every tree, there seemed to be another red breasted songster, advertising its presence to its competitors. The odd black bird chimed in, not wanting to be overlooked. The more we walked, getting further from the golf course and closer to the marsh and the surrounding stands of trees, the more variety in bird song we heard. A green finch calling its ‘tzveeee’ song from the other side of the railway line, blue tits chattering and seemingly shouting at us and each other, and long tailed tits ‘see-see-seeing’ companionably. Their stocky bodies and long tails stark against the bare twigs of the trees, making it very obvious where the old name of ‘barrel bird’ came from.
Once we were out on the open marsh and field, we strolled along the ‘path’ clinging closely to the River Yare. A little egret perched, preening its long white feathers, framed by the branches of the tree on which it sat, enjoying the sun as it broke through the cloud. The golden rays of winter sunlight brought the colours back to the landscape, picking out the green of the grasses, the gold of the reeds, the fawn of the trees and the yellow of the lichen encrusting them. There also seemed to be an audible difference in the level of birdsong. A song thrush began its beautifully repetitive song and a green woodpecker yaffled across the marsh, but stayed well hidden. Jay’s showed off their blue and orange flashes, reflecting strongly those wavelengths of the sun’s light. A collection of quiet birds, which may have been tree sparrows (they moved too quickly to get a clear look, but their heads looked wrong for house sparrows) and a charm of goldfinches heralded our way out of the reserve and back in Eaton. However, a parting gift was a crowd of redwings foraging in the grounds of the scout activity centre. Sometimes, you find good sightings in unexpected places!
The day after the inauguration of Trump, there was a rally in Washington DC - the Women's March on Washington.
Normally I take photos of nature, animals, and occasionally friends and family. But I have lived near Washington DC for almost 20 years, and I have never photographed any significant or historic events in the area.
Recently I have been open to trying new things, as I did with my trip a couple weeks ago to Jackson Wyoming. Attending a crowded rally in DC, planning for the logistics of shooting there and the uncontrolled/unknowable aspects of being on foot during such a busy time has in the past made me decide to do other things. But not this time.
So I got up at around 5am, and made to a parking area off Ohio drive behind the Jefferson Memorial around 6:15am and then waited. I was unsure what to expect even with this small aspect of the day, where and when to park. But when I got there the lot was nearly empty, heck it was an hour before sunrise - nothing new with regards to planning and traveling for wildlife and sunrise - but the lot could have been closed, the road access could have been closed or diverted, a ton of things could have made this first step a problem But luckily it worked out.
I got to the lot and then rested a bit, and was reassured by this first step working out. Then I walked to the Jefferson, and was the only one there - an odd and eerie thing. The capital would be over run with people in the hours to come but this was the calm before the so called storm. I tried to use the facilities there but they were accessible but closed for repairs.
As dawn approached I walked over towards the Washington Monument, it was foggy and damp out. And there were a few others also getting a jump on the long day ahead (not pictured in this shot).
On Friday I called the park service to see about the march, routes, access and restrictions. What I learned was that there would be restrictions and security for those inside the protected area (whatever that actually meant). But that throughout the rest of Washington D.C. it would be just like any other day and there would not be blockades, or checkpoints, or heightened security. So I took a backpack that was too large for the restricted areas never intending to go inside a restricted area.
As I got closer and the morning progressed, I realized that there would people everywhere and I would be able to see "the event" from all over the place. I walked down the Mall and then south on 4th street (I think).
During the entire day I took about 2,700 photos, and walked 10 miles.
For the most part I managed to remain on the edges of the crowds and assembling marchers. However a few times I had to "retreat" to get to less crowded areas. One time a couple of guys took the baracades along 7th street and made an opening so that the people in the street could easily move to the sidewalks and grassy areas. Most people continued to move towards the Rally area, but within a short time the area was nearly packed with those that didn't want to move closer and wanted a spot to rest.
Another time at roughly 7th and Independence I stopped to shoot the crowd from in front of a jumbo-tron type display. There was space in front of the display because the angle from right in front of it was too oblique to be able to see the screen. However even that spot filled in as more people moved in to the area and gathered. I managed to shoot a handful of images facing the crowd from this spot and it worked well. I also got up a couple feet by standing on something to get a better angle on the crowd - though it was an awkward spot and eventually after I had move off a person asked those nearby not to stand there (on it) anymore.
And later when the intersection of Independence and 15th street was in the preparing stages of the actual march proper, I managed to I guess look like a press photographer and stayed IN the intersection along with organizers, police and actual press photographers. I took the time to shoot photos and talked to everyone there. It felt like one of those act like you belong moments and it worked out. Everyone was friendly and I even chatted it up a bit with a particular press photographer from New York city. He seemed like a seasoned veteran of the trade and was nice and had some interesting quips about the day that I appreciated - such as some background on the "American flag hijab" thing, which he said started in NYC.
This type of photography is new to me, and I have been trying to find a way to show meaningful moments from the day. I realize that I could post photos from throughout the day and that various messages marchers had would be seen via their signs and actions, and the images would invoke various responses. I don't usually try to express my own political leanings through my photography, and I am mindful of which images I choose to share.
With that, here are a couple of images that are a start to my selecting and sharing meaningful images:
Granda
Hijab
- With that, I will add images to this post as I process and share more images.
update 1 - 2 new images
I took a lot of portraits of those at the rally, there were some really interesting looking people. I used to setups while at the rally, D500 w/ 70-200mm f/2.8 and D810 w/ 17-35mm f/2.8 (I swapped lenses between those 2 bodies a couple times).
update 2 - A couple more photos...
Update 3 Two more images from the march, there was a genuine positive attitude at the march. People were excited to express themselves and to get their message out there. Everyone wanted to be seen and to have their voices heard.
The Sun’s rays scattered by ice covered glass and grass turned into cake frosting; white, hard and crunchy under foot, it was a frosty winter’s morning in Norfolk. Parking at the medieval church in the village, birds could be heard calling from the suburban trees, surrounding fields and woodland. The short walk to the reserve was pleasant, a small distance along the road, then a public footpath along the perimeter of a field. The mixture of open landscape and woodland was a contrast that seemed popular with local birds of prey. A pair of buzzards took flight, greeting us upon entering the woodland over a small bridge. No sooner had we entered the woodland, and we were surrounded by smaller woodland birds calling and scattering, as well as a few chattering grey squirrels and a roe deer, before it caught sight of us. The tiny goldcrest imperceptibly moving from twig to twig and a treecreeper, somewhat more confiding, winding its way up the bark of trees nearby.
Following the NWT arrows took us around the edge of this small reserve, with robins, blue- and great tits traversing the walkways ahead of us. Great spotted woodpeckers could be heard calling, but did not make themselves known by sight. A kestrel silently glided, carving the skyscape with long tail and arrow like wings, landing gracefully in the bare canopy. The coppiced trees provide ample cover for small birds with their almost impenetrable vertical swords of thin branches, closely packed. Larger trees twisted their gnarled trunks skyward, their asymmetry pleasing to the eye. Every tree, it seemed, filled with the calls and songs of woodland birds. As we completed the trail, a treecreeper was again at the entrance to bid us farewell.
A bright day with the hazy Sun peering through stratus cloud; blackthorn blossoms sweetened the air and heightened the senses, spring seems to have begun. Bees delicately visited the pink-white flowers and the song of small birds came from every tree. 
We made a bee-line for tower hide, spotting greylag and Canada geese lining up along the banks of the lagoons on the way. Cetti’s warblers exploded in song, buried somewhere deep along the edges of the path. Tufted duck, pochard, mute swans and great crested grebes dabbled and drifted on the pools of water. Tower hide boasted mixed rafts of shoveler and teal, with the occasional shelduck and gadwall. A heron hunted in the distant pools. A majestic marsh harrier perched in a scrubby tree, surveying the view over the reedbed. Taking to the sky on broad, fingered wings, looking straight into the hide, or so it seemed, then skimming the roof and away.
