Like most folk carrying a camera I guess, I wanted a picture of one of these pink lovelies whilst on the Algarve, and early morning/late afternoon wanderings around several salinas a few around, so I was optimistic. But, whenever I saw one they were always a long way-off, or partly-hidden by one of the innumerable banks that separate the compartments of salt-workings, or, of course, usually both.

Only, once, near Fuseta, did I actually, get direct views, albeit in less than perfect light (stop bloody moaning). Sure they are big, and they are pink, but of course there are only a few scattered individuals on this coast. The real flamingo experience comes when you get several hundred together. If you can, please do go and see such a thing.

This chap, I’m guessing here from it’s size, has just lifted his head from the water giving us a nice view of that startling eye, and a wee drip on the end of his nose.

I still find it hard to visualise that upside-down-head feeding method adopted by this group, because this, of course, is all we get to see. Well, unless the BBC throws hundreds of thousands of tax-payer pounds at you. Then you could probably have a team of thirty technicians, directors, assistants equipped with loads of little submarines filled with mind-whippingly expensive camera gear shipped out to Africa. Perhaps I should ask.

Juveniles typically show no colour till their second or third year, appearing a mix of grey till then. As they come to maturity ….. they ... they …... go………... pink………. My god, why didn’t I put this together before, it’s the Caravan album isn’t it?! Yes, I’m old. Yes, the phrase ‘recreational drugs’ is not wholly unfamiliar to me, but how didn’t it come to me before? Were they smoking Flamingo feathers when they thought of the title. I appreciate those of you not born in the 50s (ish) might have no idea of what I speak, your loss. Go look it up, or not, depending on whim. In case you don’t:

            In the land of grey and pink where only boy-scouts stop to think
            They'll be coming back again, those nasty grumbly grimblies
            And they're climbing down your chimney, yes they're trying to get in

Oh, I’ve just looked it up on what the kids use today in lieu of learning, and the Interweb says the album title was inspired by the ‘sunsets of Kent’. Yeah right.

A local Heron, well it would be I suppose, has taken to perching on a small boat mooring opposite my bedroom window, a bit distant but ‘doable’ at 1000mm. Opening the curtains one morning revealed him standing there, in a fierce wind. It was so strong that he frequently had to adjust his footing to maintain balance as he was staggered in the wind. And yet he seemed determined to groom, something he often does there in the morning. But on that day, in that wind, it was simply hysterical. Rushing downstairs to collect camera, lens and tripod I set them up looking through the open window and wildly flapping curtains. I watched him for over 30 minutes, just joy. He was determined I will give him that. Well, I have hundreds of pictures of the poor chap in endless postures of disarray.

Here’s just one of images, it may not be the best, it was a hard choice.

I came across this chap on/in the River Ness, just standing there, looking cool, or perhaps he is thinking something profound. Anyway, a quick exchange of money and he posed for me. Thank you.

after wandering around a bit, and turning my attention to a crow in a nearby field, I walked back to see if my Heron was still there. Well he’d wandered off downstream a bit and was clearly seeking a fish or so for lunch. perhaps he remembered he’d promised his good lady that he would be back soon with some grub for the kids, you can see the realisation of what an ear-bashing he was going to get if didn’t get back soon.

Coming back from the magical place where I never manage to get any good photo’s of Grey Wagtails, I was not really paying attention to where I was walking. It’s automatic by now, go feet. My mind drifts back and ….WTF. A baby Heron is standing in the middle of the road, no more than perhaps about 20 metres in front of me! I froze, I was closer than I’d ever been to a Heron before, OK, he’s clearly a truly scraggy fledgling, but I still want his picture, I mean he’s he’s got my hair !

Unfreezing cautiously I take a few, and start to edge past him, I don’t want to frighten him but I do need to get back. Besides he's in the middle of the bloody road, it's never busy but how long before some delivery van comes speeding along, it would be better if I could just persuade him to move off the road a bit, into the wood, without terrorising him that is, his brain is clearly no-where near wired-up yet. Getting as close to the fence on my right as I can I advance a bit, a bit more, he’s about 2m away now, god another step and I could pick him up and carry him home under my arm. He moves at last, takes a step to the side away from me. I take another, he does the same, the impasse has ended. I get level with him and take a few more steps. He retreats into some heather.

Once I’m around 10m beyond him I turn to see if mum is back. She isn’t, but he has retreated deeper into the heather. I see that it might make a nicer picture of him. I drop into the heather, ‘hey, come on ticks, supper's up’ I think as I crawl back a few metres to where I can get a clear view without freaking him out. Snap snap. Right, I must get back, I'll get such an earful if there is no dinner when Julie get’s home from work, “but look at the picture dear” doesn’t cut the mustard, trust me on this.

If you’re wondering why this heron’s nose is so scabby and peeling well, without going too deep, it’s because the hardened outer layers of the bill (think finger-nail here) does grow to compensate for damage etc. Now, this bird is so young, probably straight from the nest, so he’s been doing a lot of growing recently and the outer layer is renewing to keep up.

That hair though, it’s just me.

Yes, we are back on a salinas, in the early dawn, and a little egret awaits me. Standing beautifully in the early sun against an unlit background of dark vegetation he has made a simple easy picture for me. I thank him very much and leave him to appreciate those warming rays.

For me, the warm tints given by the dawn sun, the lighter stripes on the birds body arising from reflections off small ripples on the water surface, combine to makes this a pretty picture of this species.

...... after a few minutes enjoying the sun he seems to remember it’s breakfast time

when your feet are in the water, and you want to catch fish that don’t want to be eaten, you can’t splash around like an idiot. So, piscivorous species evolved a number of strategies, some swim, pursuing their supper, some dive, catching fish unawares and we have birds like the herons. They stalk their food, watch a grey heron hunting, slowly, oh so slowly, moving its feet. The long neck, of course, allows searching around without moving any below-water parts. Then they strike and, if they're quick enough, yum yum.

So no, this egret isn’t doing his morning stretches, or admiring his reflection, he's hungry.

a few days earlier I caught this chap who appears proud of his little island, and so he should be.

the feet of this species, when you can see them, vary from yellow to yellow-green. The darker colour here might indicate a juvenile, but I would have to defer to those with more knowledge than me

This is an old photograph taken in Cedar Keys but I think it still captures a nice colourful view of this species. Posing in the sun on a deliciously red rusty piece of old boat and set against the deep blues of the gulf, the bright yellows of those feet and lores, it pack enough colour I think too be called ‘pretty’. Well it’s all I’ve got, so it will have to do.

I must add that this picture, and all the others here from Cedar Key, were only possible because of the frequently encountered unasked for open generosity of so many American people. I carried no long lens for this trip up through the East coast so could only take these few bird images because a gentleman, whom I only met the previous evening in, yes a bar, lent me his Sigma 50-500mm for a couple of days ! I thank you again Sir.

I am far from sure that I would lend my gear to someone I’d just met or, to be honest, known for a lifetime. But there again I am English. So, just don't ask. Oh hang-on, I did lend a Canon battery charger, never got it back

I mean who doesn’t like a Pelican? Often congregated in large groups and intermingled with white American Pelicans (nothing racist here, move along), it can be hard to find individuals. But this gentleman just settled beside our boat and posed nicely in the sun (they get a lot of that in Florida). I took this snap and thanked him.

Now I’ve heard, or read, somewhere that the world just doesn’t need another flying Pelican picture. Well tough ……. . Usually, flying low in ground-effect, they are just so impressive, those huge wings. So, whether the world needed it or not, I took a picture of one.

Like Brown Pelicans it can be difficult to find solitary birds to photograph. Drifting slowly past a small shingle ridge a few hundred metres off-shore I saw this lovely bird standing slightly apart from his chums. The colors (I was in the US) although limited are bold. The need to reduce light to ensure the white is correct exposed in the brilliant Floridian sun gives that nice deep blue of the sea. Pretty enough for me!

As I’ve said elsewhere, I prefer very much to photograph single birds, but Glossy Ibises on migration usually come somewhat en masse . Indeed on this day, standing where I was, on the banks of the Douro, they came in like a storm front, literally darkening the eastern sky. There were thousands upon thousands flying in, and they’re not small birds by any means. I had long wanted to see one of these migration spectaculars, as birds from across parts of Europe coalesce into larger and larger groups as they travel southward. Well I did see one, then, right in front of me, and wow, just wow.

But, as a photographer, I totally failed to capture it. Not least because, like WW1 fighter aces, they dropped out of the high sun, and there were simply too many, oh so many. I also only had the heavy 500, and with the 1.4x on, like trying to shoot a gnat with a howitzer. To add to the misery when they got lower and circled they were inline which a great twin row of enormous and ugly transmission pylons spread across the landscape. I took hundreds, but knowing against hope that they would all be sh.., and I was right, again!

Well, although this is a dreadful picture, I want to try to convey something of what it was like. This is a tiny part of that sky, probably less than 5%, and I could be pointing in any of dozens of directions to the east. Everywhere, anywhere, you looked it was like this, all at the same time. Overwhelming. But wow.

As a few hundred circle to land at a time, some pass behind me and the sun fleetingly catches this birds splendid colour scheme of iridescent blues and cyans against rufous-brown. Not for nothing are they called glossy ibis, although that seriously understates their loveliness. And this picture doesn’t do them a service either!

In a previous life I used to photograph weddings but, maybe I should clarify, never funerals. This was of course in the days of rolls of 120 film, with 12 frames on each. Usually, you took 24 pictures for a wedding. So, no f...-ups allowed! And, of course, a big part of the typical wedding are the carefully selected groups of relatives, all carefully coreographed and arranged. And somewhere in there would be some damned kid a finger up his nose, or his tongue out, or an uncle clearly looking at the brides bum, how easy today when a photographer can pick out of 100s if they wish. Pah, they have it cushy now! So, I prefer portraits, only one to pose or consider. However, I was clearly not going to find a single Ibis today, finger up it's nose or not.



Groups of perhaps a few hundred at a time sink lower and began to settle, as thousands continue to circle. Air traffic control was exquisite, not one collided. As more and more settled they just compounded my misery by using great gravel bars way too far away and directly in line with the sun. Glossy Bastards more like.

Looking around I notice a smaller bar, where only a hundred or so have settled, still way too far off for individual studies, but at least not back-lit. Here over a 100 Ibis, with some notable photo bombing Egret, BW stilts, and Avocet. These latter species were probably all quietly resting on their own, enjoying themselves on a near empty island, before the 'masses' fell from the sky. I ponder how they feel now, probably the same as the human locals before the first Airbusses and Boeings of the season begin decanting thousands upon thousands of 'us' every year.

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