Tufted Duck Eurasian Aythya fuligula
Most earlier names for this lovely little duck refer to the males black and white plumage such as: White-sided duck or diver (Armagh) Black Wigeon (Devon), Black Poker (Norfolk; ‘poker’ is a common name for duck is those parts. I’ve no idea why and I come from there), Black Curre (Hants)’ Gold-eye Duck (Wexford) Crested Diver (Ireland) Curre Wigeon (Somerset), Doucker (Islay).

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bright-eyes
Now, I am sure I am going to disagree with myself farther on, but ‘tufties’ are my favourite duck. They’re small, cute, cuddly and utterly undemonstrative. They don’t go around kicking up the place and disturbing the peace like Mallards, they just get on with the job of being a sweet little duck. What’s not to like?

Despite my like for them it was only last year that I got a few pictures I thought worthy of sticking up here. The reason for this might be that they are a diving duck and they do a jolly lot of it. You can follow one in the viewfinder waiting for it to face the right way, get in the right light, for a photo-bombing Mallard to bugger-off. Then, just as you think ‘yup that’ll do nicely' and press the shutter it’s bloody gone, and yup you another picture of a disappearing ‘tufties’ arse, or just a circle of tiny waves.

If there is a ‘secret’ it’s to find one that’s just popped back up like this chap here, still with a few drops of water left. I still can’t decide if a tuftie’s eye is magical looking, or slightly menacing.

The reason I like this picture is almost entirely because of the colours and patterns in the water, not saying you will.
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is it, isn't it

Well ok, while an adult breeding male is easy to spot, I find it harder with the telling of females from juveniles, the latter show a lot of variability, and lighting can help in confusion. So, what I’m about to say might be balls, but that doesn’t mean anyone gainsaying it is necessarily right right either, there often seems to be an unnecessary amount of arrogance and over-confidence in many birders, but that said I am certain this is an immature male, absolutely no doubt about it, or it could be a female perhaps!

Actually, I do think it’s a juvenile, but it might not be. Take your shots.
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is it, isn't it, part 2
Now this is, absolutely, a female. Or a juvenile. Whatever she, he, it, might be I think she looks great. Again fresh from the water. I do like the mellow colours here, browns and grey, all highlighted by that bright golden eye. And that little top-knot. Lovely.

If you are wondering why this sweet little duck looks startled, it might be because his mum right in front of him, and to whom he was cheerfully chatting to, just disapeared that moment, leaving no more than a small circle.
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smirk
Yes, of course, it’s a male, again fresh from a dive, this idea is working for me at the moment. But he’s here to illustrate the power of hydrophobicity (look it up, you ought to have paid more attention at school) the ‘magic’ that powers the saying ‘like water from a ducks’ back. Look at the tail, at the extent it can depress the water’s surface.

Actually, the real reason he’s here is because I like the really cute expression on his face. Like a cheeky little smile, he's hiding something, but what is it? I instinctively look behind me in case some of his mates are about to push me in
Shoveller Anas clypeata
That big shovel face led to a number of local names: Blue-winged Shoveller, Shovel bill, Broad bill, Shovelard (Norfolk) Spoon bill or Spoonbeak (Norfolkagain, we used to have a lot of ducks). Also Whinyard, named after a knife with a similar shape (Waterford). However some folks in Wexford, seem not to have noticed that great big face (or perhaps they were just too polite to mention it) calling it instead the Maiden Duck. Other, non-face orientated names inc. Sheldrake (Waterford again) and, somewhat out of the blue, Kirk Tullock, my favourite.

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duck, goosed
I almost feel ashamed to put this in, I mean I don't think she'd like it. But I don't mean anything against her, I'm laughing with her, certainly not at her.

Either way, what a look! You would think for all the world that someone had goosed her (it wasn't me), I promise. Of course that brings us straight into a deep metaphysical conundrum; Is it actually possible to ‘goose’ a duck? That’s too deep for me, I draw the line at ‘is there a god’? Joking apart we all know how hard it must be to carry-off a nose like that at the best of times, and it is possible that it was me that alarmed her, not sure, but if I did, I'm sorry.
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sad?
This male somehow just looks depressed, or just pissed-off. We only have part eclipse plumage here, perhaps that’s depressing him.

Of course it could be that someone has just pinched his wife’s bum and he isn’t amused.

These two are taken on marshes around the Tagus during migration, and these birds have literally just dropped in, I watched them, so perhaps he’d had a bad flight, delays, lost luggage, that kinda thing. Hope he picks up soon.
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dawn love
This couple, photographed early on a salinas, are also new arrivals, although he retains more breeding plumage.

I took this because I liked the colours, how the dawn-infused warm browns blend with the birds plumage. I also just liked the back-story of love through thousands of miles of migration evoked by his devoted following of her, mebbe I just needed a coffee.
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itch
I really am not trying to mock this bird any more by focussing on its bill, but this preening female is beautifully revealing the structure of her bill. The fine lamellae, used to filter water and retain food like invertebrates within the mouth as she feeds, are clear here. This water filtering feeding method is somewhat analogous to the way baleen whales feed only, it has to be admitted, on a somewhat smaller scale.

Next time you get a chance watch some of these birds feeding, its fun and you might get to the Shoveller circle, where two or more (up to a few dozen) swim in a tight circle to disturb the sediment so they can capture and filter it.

If you haven't got a load of shovelers nearby you could try this link to youtube: ⇢ click ⇠   n.b. this connects to an external site: I can accept no responsibility for whatever moronic advertising shit they fling at you.

Pintail Northern Anas acuta
Named for its tapering tail, the central two feathers of which are longer than the rest, something very obvious in flight. Has been called Cracker, Winter Duck, Lady Bird (Dublin) and, for its graceful form, Harlan (Wexford), although the derivation of that escapes me. Apparently was also known as Sea Peasant (Dorset and Hants) because of the beauty of its plumage.



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under-stated beauty
I am spoiled for choice here on the Tagus, thousands of duck of all sorts drop in over the past few hours, adding to those that arrived over the last week. Of course that comes with difficulties of finding one in ‘space’. Whilst there are many pretty poses and angles in view, all potential nice pictures, other birds surround them and cramp their style. Without moving my head I can see a few thousand duck on this lagoon. So, the hard bit here is finding one looking pretty without another ducks arse blocking the view, or another gurning in the background.

I pick a lovely female, there’s no flashy reds and blues, greens or yellows here, just understated browns and whites. But how lovely she looks, she doesn’t need no face-paint. With most duck the females play ‘plain Janes’ to the gaudy males, but that doesn’t mean they have no beauty of their own. That small-ish head, slender body and poise all clearly makes this bird ‘a lady’.

The background here of gentle blue and an extremely shallow depth of field (focus) enhances this beauty, making it clearly, in my mind, a very pretty picture of this bird.
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squelch
There is a simple photographic technique that improves pictures of birds on the ground, or in water, beyond measure. It is called ‘laying on your belly amongst all the sheep/cow /duck/goose/elephant* shit. When you’re on a marsh/wetland you can add an inch or so of cold water to that soup, just lovely. Of course it only works if the terrain is flat, like a beach or water, but it does give a lovely intimate feel to an image. I tend not to use it anywhere near enough to be honest, mostly because I might have to wait for someone to come along and help me get up again!

( *delete as appropriate)

On this day however, the wet chest, torso, other bits, elbow and legs are worth it, delivering that intimacy nicely. This, the lady above and gent below show the benefit of using this low angle approach.

I spent a while watching a patch of shadow cast by low scrub opposite where I squelch, waiting for one of the many ducks here to wander into it, preferably while looking nice. Many come and go, all somehow contriving to give manky poses. Eventually this delightful lady turns up and poses for a minute or so against that that darker background. Nice. No strumpet's face paint and garishly coloured lingerie here, just a quiet subtle beauty, like a lady should look. It was worth the discomfort.

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a boy
I need a male don’t I, a few minutes later and this chap drifts past close. OK he’s eclipse for sure, but he does seem to have a lady admirer, lucky him. May they live happily together for ever more.
Wigeon Anas penelope
From its enchanting whistling call it was given the names: Whistler, Whim, Whewer or Whew Duck, Pandle Whew (Norfolk). Also called Half Duck in Norfolk because its diminutive size made it only worth half the value of a Wild Duck (Mallard). Not much gets past those fiscally astute Norfolkians, even if it is a somewhere mercenary viewpoint. Has also been called Bald Pate (I say nothing), Golden Head or Yellow poll for the male's head colour.

Norfolk also gave us another truly great name for this bird, 'Cock Winder'. Look, part of me really wants to know why, I just rebel from typing that into google!

Let's move on.

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you and me both
I have chosen the wrong day for this walk alongside the upper reaches of the Moray Forth, it is miserable and wet. I met this lady, looking as dejected as I was, and asked if I could take a picture of her. She made a lot of noise about not looking her best, damp hair, bit of grass stuck in her mouth, that sort of stuff. I assured her no, she looked all natural woman. She cheered up a bit and I took a few. You've got to speak to a lady right.
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I look good
Driving alongside the northern edges of the Moray Firth I spotted a few wigeon messing about, lit by mid-morning sun. It was a good 10 minutes before I could turn around, drive back and find somewhere to park, they were still there. I choose this male because he paddled in the shadow showing that lovely yellow stripe on brown to good effect. It’’s pretty enough.
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where are you off to my love?
Many days of sunshine drive me out again, along the southern side of the Moray Firth this time. It’s February and the bright low sun is creating just a lovely light. It has been a bit stormy overnight and I am hoping it might have driven the large rafts of duck and goose normally found here in winter to seek shelter nearer inland. It is also high-tide, another reason for timing this visit, it will also push waders up close, so hopefully a double-whammy of treats. Modest waves are still effecting the normally sheltered bay I visit second. The ‘beach’ is only a foot or so wide right now and a raft of wigeon float just a few feet from some cover where I can hide. Getting from the landie, I camo up, click, strap, bind, all the bondage gear I wear to carry the camera and detour away from the water to creep up behind some nice prickly gorse. There many wigeon here, looking absolutely gorgeous in the low bright winter sun, I take many of pretty images that would be here, except for this couple, they have to win a place, well three.

The waves aren’t exactly causing these birds to fret much, but clearly it’s not as relaxing as just floating about, whistling. Anyway I see a female lead a male a few metres away from the close-in sheltered area into rather ‘deeper-waters’. Not sure what her plans are, who knows what goes on in a lady’s mind, but her man dutifully follows her (sucker).

Within seconds and they’re in a little chop – I cannot imagine this is something you will see as close unless you’re in a boat or something. She’s determinedly swimming on – he’s muttering something I am sure……..
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..... that's gone right up my fucking nose ....
…... as she crosses the crest of the wave …….. the inevitable happens and it hits him solidly and squarely in the face………..

………. despite laughing out loud I keep hold of the camera.
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....... weeeeeeeeeeee......
she ploughs ‘downhill’ leaving him to wonder if he’s picked a girl a bit too wild.

of course great rafts of duck, esp of course sea-duck, will weather, well, worse weather out to sea, and this might have been a bit of fun, who knows?
Teal Anas crecca
Derived either from Old Dutch teling, the Middle Low German telink, or west Germanic taili. There you are, now you know, unless I'm wrong of course! Has also been called Jay Teal (Kirkcudbright – most likely for its colours) and Tael Duck (Scotland).

Now we're going to get into that old is it a separate species or not thing again. There is a closely related (same?) duck called the green-winged or American teal found, yup you got there, in North America. This used to be considered the same species and the US ornithological society still says it is, others of course claim a new one. Perhaps, we'll go to war over it. Oh, and the 'American' ones frequently pop-up over here. Who knows? I don't eagerly count 'ticks' in a little book, so I don't care all that much.

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pretty little duck
I’m still laying down somewhere in the marshes around the Tagus, it saves trying to get up and there are lots of birds to amuse me in the meantime.

A fair number of this little duck came in with the last flight, but most are now busy preening and looking ‘messy’. Many are eating, arses stuck nicely in the air, if you want that sort of picture, I don’t, thank you very much.

This male comes to join me, sadly a bit of vegetation is in the way but he looks nice enough so I take his picture. He isn’t in prime breeding plumage, but he looks pretty enough for here I think.
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I'm pretty too ..
There are a number of other teal amongst the fringing vegetation around me, mostly hidden. I wait longer and another comes out, this time against a more colourful background, so I snap him as well. I suspect in the fullness of time I won’t allow myself to keep two near-identical images like this, but for now.
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snack
I have been sitting in a comfy hide hoping against hope those Slavonian grebes miles away might come a lot closer, yeah dream on. In my peripheral vision I see a Teal dashing around doing something.

Turning my bins on him I can see he’s actually picking newly emerged insects from the surface. The camera follows and I try to get a picture or two. Sadly, he’s also a long way off, and it isn’t going to be good, but it makes a fair behaviour picture, so I’ll leave it in for a while.
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"overpaid, oversexed, and over here"
I mentioned the American Wigeon thing, well here’s an example of one with some European friends, a long way off but you can see the white stripe easily enough. Is it another tick, not for me.

I shall not mention that he appears to have a lady friend, does that prove that old WW2 saying?
Red-Breasted Merganser Aythya fuligula
Mergus is a small but widespread genus of only 4 species, with the Goseander and Red-breasted merganser being found around all of the northern continents. Commonly known as saw-bills for the sharply-toothed edges to their bills, an adaptation for catching and holding fish. This delightful duck has had a host of names. From its saw-edged bill, for grabbing fish, not eating trees, we have: Lesser-toothed Diver, Sawbill Aberdeen, Stirling) Sawneb (Aberdeen) and Sawbill Widgeon. The names Herald and Herald Duck (Shetland, Forfar) is probably derived from the Icelandic haveld, which probably likewise contributed Harle and Harle Duck (Orkney) and possibly Land Harlan (Wexford). Has also been called Bardrake, Scale Duke (Strangford Lough), Grey Dive (Islay) and, a somewhat left-field name, Pooping Pigeon. Not sure what the person who invented that name was drinking. I expect you can’t get it any more.

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the challenges of the wildlife photographer
OK these first two images here are going to test my honesty.

I ought to tell of the struggle to locate the bird, and the month-long story of never more than distant views, living under wind-blown and blizzard-swept rocks, supplies gone, eating my own toe-nails for food, followed by crawling on my stomach though dense gorse and over sharp volcanic rock, hands bleeding, incipient scurvy and developing malaria. Finally to locate a nest, waiting for eggs to hatch, chewing on gorse to sustain myself now the toe-nails have gone, and to fight the scurvy. Eventually, the day comes and the chicks appear, using the last of my strength my bloody fingers push the shutter release. Falling back elated by success I find a renewed vigour appears, a final effort, I crawl the three miles back to my canoe where I find a passing bear has chewed the bow off. Using my underpants I manage to repair it enough to paddle the edge of the ice-sheet, bare buttocks frozen to the seat ……….. well you get the idea I hope. And if I want to sell to National Geographic this is the sort of heroic tale I will need to weave of course.

Or I could tell the marginally less heroic tale of stopping at a garage near loch ness to buy an ice-cream, it was a hot lovely day indeed, as I licked it I wandered over to look at the river, a few metres away I see a mummy merganser and some chick swimming toward me. I took their pictures, here are a few !
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not really that easy
Now I may have understated some of the human struggle with that last story, don’t forget I was holding an ice-cream, a camera and a long-lens, and I aint got three hands. You try it sometime, it's not that easy.
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.. the chick's struggle..
OK, which story was true is up to you to decide. But just watching those chicks struggling to all fit on mum’s back at the same time was an absolute scream. They could nearly all manage it, but not quite. One would push its way up and another would fall off, disgruntledly swimming round to join the queue again.
Mandarin Aix galericulata
Native to a fairly large part of East Asia its range collapsed following widespread deforestation, not least because it nests in trees! What a great species we are? Given the striking colouration of the males it was also widely captured and exported to the rich in the west, yes lovely. As a result, of escapes from these collections it has become established in small numbers in the UK. I see a few in the wild here, and they look cute for sure. I just wish they'd been left alone. Unknown in the wild of the UK at the times of folk like Rev. Swainson I have nothing to really add. So, spend a moment to think about how truly destructive our species has been, and continues to be.

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another sad tale
We have an itinerant pair near where I live, you see them once in a blue-moon. Beating lottery-winning odds I was actually carrying the camera when I spotted this couple on the ‘you’ll never get a picture of a grey wagtail here’ stream. A bit rich for a small Scottish stream perhaps, but he brought a little brightness to offset November gloom.
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you OK love
I imagine his chances of finding another lady on this side of the world are vanishingly small, and he seems to know it. I watch them a while and they are so obviously ‘a couple’. There is nonetheless a sadness about two birds torn so far from their home. We are utter bastards aren’t we?
Mallard or Wild Duck Anas platyrhynchos
Well truly the ubiquitous duck, certainly in the Northern Hemisphere. Where it didn't get to by its own efforts, it has been introduced, including into chunks of Oz and NZ. It often seems within a few minutes of flying anywhere you hear that irritating 'quack-quack-quack' of a Mallard. I'm sorry, I live by a pond and being woken by that loud 'quack-bloody-quack' at 3am gets stale quick, and they come round for bread, and bang on the back door, so I kinda have a love-hate relationship with this species. The chicks are cute though!

As 'the' duck it has had a fair number of names: Stock Duck (Orkney), Mire Duck (Forfar), Moss Duck (Renfrew, Aberdeen), Muir Duck (Stirling), Grey Duck (Lancashire) and the They've Shit on the Back Step Again Duck (Here).

Like so many birds they can forecast the weather, as in:

    " When ducks are driving through the burn
      That night the weather takes a turn."

In early usage the male was called Mallard and the female just Duck, the young were delightfully called 'Flappers'. We've all heard of the game 'ducks and drakes' for skimming stones on water which comes from the half-run on water half-fly actions of disturbed ducks.

Pointer in the "Oxoniensis Academia " (1749) relates the custom of the All Saints College, Oxon, of holding a 'Mallard Night' on 14th Jan every year to celebrate/remember a drake mallard imprisoned in a gutter or drain under the All Souls college and grown to a "vast bigness". I give you therefore parts of "The Merry Old Song of the All Souls' Mallard".

    " Griffin, bustard, turkey, capon,
      Let other hungry mortals gape on;
      And on their bones their stomach fall hard,
      But let All Souls' men have their Mallard.
      Oh ! by the blood of King Edward,
      Oh ! by the blood of King Edward,
      It was a swapping, swapping Mallard.


      The Romans once admired a gander
      More than they did their chief commander
      Because he saved, if some don't fool us,
      The place that's called the head of Tolus,
      Oh ! by the blood, etc. "

It goes on but you probably have to be well bleutered to really want more. I'll move on.

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cute
Then they bring their fluffy little chicks round and aaaaahhhh, “Oh, look aren’t they cute.” I am a sucker for a fluffy chick.

I mean loooook, cute.
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a very questioning look
a very questioning look ignoring the shit, the frequent loud noise, and the rather distressing reproductive protocols they adopt, I have to admit they bring a certain completeness to our garden, that’s the sweet painful joy of a love/hate relationship I guess. Tell me there isn’t something going-on behind those eyes.
Eider Somateria mollissima
Has been called: the Great Black and White Duck, OK not the most poetic for sure, but it covers all the bases! also Dusky Duck, which suits the female and young juvenile, and from Shetland we have Dunter and Dunter Duck This latter maybe from the Swedish dun< = down and taer a = to gnaw from its habit of plucking down from its breast when hatching eggs. Lastly, from Northumberland, we have St. Cutherbert's duck or Cudberduce, this from their nesting on the Farne islands, where they provided companions for the saint's solitude. I don't think you could wish for better mates, sitting on a rock on your own or not.

For such a big and imposing duck, they have a lovely soft cuddly call, If you've not heard them then click.

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a big cuddly duck

Well, I said at the start, did I not, that I might be uncertain re. my favourite duck. Eiders certainly challenge me, Great big and cuddly, with a great bold colour scheme, well the males anyway and what a sound track. Now, being a ‘norfuk’ boy, it was a long time before I saw, and heard, one of these lovelies. I had been told scary stories about ‘the North’ (most of which turned out to be true) and, to be sure, the roads in East Anglia in the 70s added extra painful hours of misery to any journey. So I never went there. In fact I think the first time I saw these birds was during the anti-Torness nuclear power station demonstrations in ‘77 and ‘78. It was love at first sight.

A thousand moons later and I moved to Shetland, where they are fairly numerous. SO, how come I only have crap pictures of them. I don’t know, perhaps it’s that, oh I can go after them tomorrow thing.

This lovely chap drifted past one day when I was camo’d up for Otter. So I took him but he was too far off really for the camera to be fair. One day I’ll go after them again, I live in Scotland for heavens sake.
Goldeneye Bucephala clangula
Golden-eyed garrot. Gowdy Duck (Lothian; Orkney), Pied pigeon, Whiteside (Westmorland), Grey-headed Duck, Rattlewings (Norfolk), Whistler, Diving Duck (Shetland) Diver or Doucker (Roxburgh). Popping Wigeon. The latter because it pops down and up suddenly.

And not a mention of James Bond anywhere.

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miserable day

Of course I don’t always pick the best days for a walk, this wet and miserable December is fit for reading indoors, not much else. But I want to find some sea duck, and I hope the weather has driven then closer. Well it hasn’t, or if it has the rain is blocking the view. Miserably trying to light a wet roll-up in a strong wind (it failed) I see a female Golden-eye pop to the surface. For the want of something to do now the roll-up won’t light I take her picture. As she dives again I realise she’s as wet as I am, but I can do something about it. In 3 miles time. I give up and head back.

Obviously a place-holder. It’s here to drive me to do better.
Greylag Anser anser
One of the whistling duck?
'Lag' is possibly derived as a corruption of the word lake, or perhaps the Italian word 'lago' also meaning lake! The latter is maybe supported by the fact the white domestic goose derived from greylags may have come from Italy. Does it really matter! OK, has also been called Wild Goose (not the movie) Fen Goose, Marsh Goose, Stubble Goose and, well yes, Grey Goose, sums it up well.

Weather forecasting skills are attributed to the Greylag. Firstly, it used to be thought that the shape of the skein, whether 'V' or some sort of squiggly line, could tell how weeks frost there would be after the sighting. Unfortunately, Swainson provides neither full details of this, nor a source, so, I'll have to continue to use the ' keep giving us the taxes and we'll 'have a wild stab in the dark' service offered by the Met Office. However, a far more detailed saying comes from Morayshire:

     "Wild geese, wild geese , ganging to the sea,
      Good weather it will be :
      Wild geese, wild geese , ganging to the hill
      The weather it will spill '

That'll do.


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big lump
I can’t claim a deep love for most geese really, just not my group I guess. And, of course, I am privileged to hear their soft melodic calls throughout the night, sometimes in harmony with Oystercatchers! That does make deep love hard to form. Anyway I wondered if any picture of such lumpy lumps could be considered ‘pretty’.

Didn't work did it !
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breakfast table


Well this is as close as I’ve gotten, a slightly misty morning family scene on a nearby pond. It will have to stay until I find something nicer, don’t hold your breath.
Mute Swan Cygnus olor
I have to admit that I am no great lover of Mute Swans, to make it worse, I really have no idea why! It could be because my mother truly adored them, and don't we always rebel against our parents? Anyway, even I will confess, that sitting on a mist-shrouded, reed-fringed dyke in the Norfolk Broads, watching one or two silently and serenely drift past in early-dawn light is an ethereal, almost quasi-mystical sight. Before I try to write poetry, (trust me my only potential niche in that art was fully filled by the great Dr John Cooper Clarke), let's get back some early work.

Such a big bold bird was hardly likely to escape Shakespeare's notice, the Globe, site of many first performances, was after-all along the Thames, and it appears as:

" A swan-like end, fading in music " in Merchant of Venice, and:

" I will play the swan, and die in music " in Othello.

Both allude, of course, to the old legend of Swans singing before death. which seems to date back to ancient Greece. Plato assigns the idea to Socrates that 'swans do sing in early life but not as beautifully as the do before death. Now, they covered some good ground did those ancient philosophers (if you want to know why you're wasting your time voting you gotta read Plato's Republic, it will save you a lot of time), but they also invented Ouzo, and sat in the sun a lot, I mean god knows what they heard singing.

Oh, they are actually not totally mute, but often 'talk' to their young using low soft notes. They were of course protected as a royal bird or King's Fowl, but this is a tedious story and I refer you to either Wiki or ' Birds Brittanica if you want to know as I've already spent too long on a bird I don’t especially like !


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b&w

there is, after-all, only one colour to offset pure white and that's pure black. Ok that's a lie, very dark blue looks nice too, but that's nearly black, right?

so wandering around Stirling University's lochan after Julie's Doctorate graduation I saw this chap paddling toward the dark shadows of a tall group of trees.

wait wait, wait some more, make sure you've got that -2.5ev compensation dialed-in ready, wait a bit more. Why doesn't this bloody bird get a move-one, I'm ready.

Eventually, in his own good time, he swims where predicted and we get a quick burst, tweak ev adjust again, get a few more. There'll be enough to pick through there.

And that is how I got a picture just like I am sure fills the hard discs of gazillions of other bird photographers. Still, it is mine, and it is my website so it goes in.
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b&w (2)
well I took this because I was sort of wondering if the dead Typha stems and the juvenile colour-scheme (well lack of really) would make an apparent monochrome picture. Well it does I suppose, but it doesn’t really work.

sometimes you want a concept for a picture to work, often it just refuses