I probably do have to admit that photographically most animals are of no more than a co-incidental interest to me, can’t explain why, just the way I am I guess. Sure, if I see one, while seeking other things, I may take a picture, often not. Perhaps it would be different if I was on a savannah somewhere in Africa, who knows. In that vein, whilst living in Shetland otters were elevated above this disinterested status, and I would go out and seek them. I mean who doesn’t like an otter? Today, though, it’s mainly birds, and I have to get back to fungi in a big way. So anyway, we have a small collection of pictures here that might interest you, perhaps they won’t, as, apart from those aforementioned otters, I haven’t really gone out of my way get any of them.

There is a pond just up the road from where I live, and breeding time is a holocaust. Males often wait for the ladies to appear, before asking nicely and jumping-on. They may actually skip the first part of that! Either way if you are a male a smooth tarmac surface might seem a good place to wait, often warmed by the sun and providing much clearer lines of sight than moorland. Of course the first thing most of them see is a speeding tyre. The luckier ones see Julie or myself as we gather as many as we can carry to dump in the water. I'm sure it pisses them off, but probably not as much as losing one of their three dimensions.

Anyway, as I'm often carrying the camera gear when performing these acts of mercy, I decided to spend some time getting a picture of one of these pissed-off rescuees. So, taking time to check I'm not going to squash any hanging around in the grass, I lay down in the not exactly dry margins of the pond. I'm not so stupid I didn't try the drier bits farther out first but, of course, I couldn't see the water through the tall grass, so yes wet belly and other bits it has to be.

There are dozens in there, all chasing what they hope will be the lady of their dreams. It takes time for one to enter the shaded part of pond I want to use, and then to look at me head on, kinda eye to eye. I take his picture.

I'm sure I can see a 'are you the bastard who picked me off that lovely safe road' expression in his eyes. Or perhaps I'm imagining it.

Through the ‘window’ of the pile of camo netting that I’m currently ‘nesting-in’ I notice that the empty water I had been looking at for the past hour or so, now has an otter in it. At last, this is the second 'likely spot' of the day, the other turning into a bum-numbing bust.

A quick look through the binoculars and I see he’s heading my way. There is nothing else to do, I am as ready as I can be, but as I watch him he disappears behind a small rise in the shore. Bugger. Where did he go? I look to the other side waiting for him to re-appear. He doesn’t. Another chance gone. Just as I raise my hand to twat another midge on my face I see he has flanked me, and is on this side of the rise already. I swing the camera to track him as he mooches through a bed of Fucus vesiculosus. Then he surpasses my hopes, stopping and rolling on his back, he begins to rub against a rock. He is totally relaxed, unaware of me, only a few metres away. I take one frame as he squirms in ecstasy, he hears it and looks directly at me. No silent mirror-less cameras in those days, I capture this interrogative moment, realising I am going to have to be very careful, and try to take future frames as a gull calls or something. I am too damn close, the irony, in the past it’s been the usual, too bloody far away.

a few moments and he’s back to ere, well, his back rub, as he does a full 180. We all know how good a scratch can be, and you can see the pleasure plainly on that face.

Another sound, or movement, draws his attention and, well I’ve been calling him, a ‘him’, for a while now, how do you think I knew?

I am lucky enough to be able to watch him unconcernedly relaxing like this for what seems an age (looking at the image timestamp I can see I am right, it was actually over 15 minutes) before he begins to amble away from his scratching spot, and starts walking closer to me.

I actually hold my breath, then realise how stupid that is, tracking him with the lens, he passes a small patch of grass and buttercups and I get a ‘prettier’ picture, albeit with a movement-blurred foot !

As he passes in front of my pile of rags the movement of the lens, or the chewing sound of midges gnawing my face off, drags his attention back to me, and for the second time I’m under his intense stare. I press the shutter, nothing to lose now. I get a final image, but it is at the expense of seeing his butt disappearing behind a rock, moments later I see him swimming parallel to me, then he’s gone for good.

I look at my watch, bloody hell, I’m going to be late again getting Julie’s supper ready. I gather all the crap back up, piling the camo into the rucsac, tripod and camera over shoulder and half-walk half-run the mile or so back to the landie, then the 30 minute drive home. I beat her back, just. Falling over the bloody cats I rush upstairs, dump the gear, make for the kitchen, frisbee some bowls to the table, and begin to stir the soup like I’ve been waiting for ages.

Just another day in a wannabe photographer's life.

If you’re wondering why it’s titled that you need to look at the full-size image.

So I found these three wondering what I was doing as I walked alongside Bressay Sound, somewhere north of Gremista I think, although I cannot remember where exactly. Anyway I liked the way they were aligned and thought they looked sort of amusing like that. So they got their picture taken, although I did note that no gold, frankincense or myrrh was offered in payment, mean buggers.

As I wander farther on I spot this chap looking simply ‘blissed-out’, I wonder for a moment how he manages to light his spliffs underwater. As well as his totally contented look, I like that there is now some coloured reflection from a building opposite. Snap.

a little later, and a few hundred metres farther on still, I am examined closely by another Grey seal. He must just be nosey, I am sure he can see there are no fish in my pocket, perhaps it’s the camera. Either way I like the lighting here so decide to get a picture, as I bring the lens up I select continuous drive mode. He’s looking around a bit so I might get a picture of him moving. Just as well, as I get him in focus I must spook him and he dives, leaving me with this rather nice image.

Walking along the coast south of Lerwick, looking mostly for terns, although I’ll take the odd parrot if I find one, I see a small number of Common or Harbour seals lying slightly offshore on some exposed rocks. Through my binoculars I see that the baby has the happiest of faces as he soaks up the sun. I swap camera for bins and record the moment.

Common seals come in a variety of colours, ‘background’ shades ranging from almost white through blonde to dark grey are usually overlain with darker patterns of spots. These two encompass pretty much each end of that spectrum.

In addition to this seal fur, for some reason completely unknown to me, is much darker when wet. so as they dry they change colour as well. This is obvious here not only by the dark patch on the lower abdomen where it is wet but more cutely around each seals eyes. This results from the secretion of quite thick ‘tears’ to protect the eyes whilst on land.

Of course it could just be that they want to look like bad-arse bandidos, who knows what goes through a seal's mind.

Well I was sitting at the desk, marking coursework, the bane a lecturer's life, and I get a text from a neighbour saying there are a pair of white-sided dolphin in ‘the voe’. A pair of goldfish in a bowl would have been an adequate enough incentive to stop so, grabbing the camera, I dash down the stairs, into landie, down hill, at the bottom I pause to think for the first time.

The late afternoon September sun is very low so views from the west side will be better, but take a lot longer to get to. It might be too dark by then. So the east side it will be. Driving slowly along the road that parallels the voe’s shore I soon see a couple of specks leaving a wake in the calm water. Getting as close as possible, not very, I track them for a while taking the odd image as they swim about. Eventually, they line up with the setting sun creating something I was not really anticipating. The shadows from the low waves, and refections from the dolphin’s skin created something quite pretty, and that is the raison d’etre of this site after-all.

A picture from a hired boat off Cedar Key, Fl. On holiday, got a hangover, bright hot sun. Mummy and baby dolphin make it all alright. Well that and all the pelicans and things. Taken again using a lens loaned to me by a nice chap, but that story is covered elsewhere on this site.

Even though this baby had got his swimming with mummy for protection right, he still needed to sort his synchronisation out. When he was out of the water, mummy was under, and vice versa, no matter how long I watched. So you got the baby picture, cos babies are supposed to be cute right. Actually, with that typical bottle-nosed smile, in this case I agree with you.

Part of an earlier life involved spending time on the Yorkshire Pennine moors. Quite often I would see mountain hares bobbing about, turning at least partly white as winter approached. I seldom lugged the camera alongside all the other kit I needed, but on a few occasions where permitted, I’d drive the landrover up onto the top and with no weight limits, I did have it with me.

So, late on one beautiful sunny February afternoon when this chap turned up I was able to take a couple of portraits. He was shy and moving about a lot, as well as being a long way off, but seemed content to spend time warming himself in the last rays of the day.

At first there wasn’t much to get excited about but after a while he moved to be in line with darkened, already in shadow, moors on the opposite side the valley I realised this was the ideal frame, with him sitting in sun, and glooming moor behind, who wouldn’t click the shutter?

A few minutes later, as the sun dips even further, he moves a few hundred metres to sit at the very edge. Quite lovely.

This is the immigrant of course, like most Americans it is big brash and likeable. Much maligned amongst a lot of the conservation sector of course, being called an ‘invasive alien’. Frankly, many of these guys and gals sound more fascist with every passing day. Of course if they’d paid attention during class they’d understand how we’re all immigrants to this country. Except the odd lichen perhaps, only a few thousand years ago the whole bloody place was under a mile of ice, no red squirrels then guys, or Sycamores for that matter.

OK, rant over. What about this chap. Well whilst wandering quietly through the older parts of Darlington West cemetery looking for a nuthatch I just saw fly off (the bugger) I heard the sounds of shuffling dead leaves, looking around I see a grey squidgey. As I feel I always have to do I apologised to him for so many people calling him an alien. I think his reply was frankly spot-on “fuck’em” he said. Then he continued saying he’d been practising a new hip-hop B-boying dance routine and would I like to see it. “Of course” I replied, inwardly shuddering a bit (frankly not my genre) “can I take a picture too” I asked. He nodded.

Well it wasn’t bad to be honest.

Well I did say that I don’t go out of my way to photograph mammals didn’t I, so these are both taken in the garden, one from the back door! You can’t really put much less effort in can you?

Looking out the kitchen window I saw this chap sitting on top of a post catching the rays and scratching his belly. I thought he looked nice there and he was good enough to stay till I got the camera and opened the door.

Most people do not realise how squirrels perform an important role in the economy. They help keep the fiscal gears turning. It works something like this. I buy peanuts, this gives money to poor peanut traders and also pays the postman who brings the 25kg sacks to the door (often moaning!). I put said nuts in a squirrel feeder. Squirrel eats one then devotes the rest of the day taking the rest out and hiding them in the ground. This goes on, day after day, me filling feeder, him emptying it, and, very soon, I have to buy more peanuts from an increasingly rich peanut trader …… and so on. It keeps the money moving, albeit only in one direction I can’t help noticing.

Still they are cute ! Although, I reserve the right to reconsider this if I discover they have shares in peanut importers.

Walking around, as I do, usually lugging the camera with me, I inevitably come across a fair number of deer. This one jumped out of the woodland, dashed across the road, leapt the fence right in front of me. As I hadn’t taken a picture all day I decided to make carrying it worthwhile and followed it through the viewfinder as it crossed the field. I could see that all I was going to get was a bum. Quickly I made a noise and sure enough it looked back to see what it was. Snap, thank you.

This is probably a juvenile, although could be female or, of course a female juvenile! I didn’t ask their name or age, so really can’t be certain.

I had been sitting in an empty hide, looking at an equally empty scape and pond for a little while, wondering why I’d bothered to walk there. Another bust. Then, just as I was about to get up and leave I see two Roe deer come around the edge of a small adjacent piece of woodland. They are perfectly relaxed, as they get closer and closer I decide to get a picture or two, after-all the camera was resting in front of me.

One of them walks right in front of the hide, perhaps a dozen metres away. Too close to not talk to really. So I ask her what she thinks of England’s chances in the upcoming Ashes tour. I suppose I should really have pondered first what the chances of a lady even knowing what cricket, or the Ashes, were. But her laugh told me she was fully cognisant of our chances. One astute Roe deer.

It was one of those beautiful Scottish winter sunny days. A fresh dump of four inches of snow overnight, sitting atop previous falls of perhaps a foot, had kept most traffic from the road. But I pay so much road tax for owning a land rover that any excuse to go where others can’t has to be used. So we head out to admire the scenery, it is beautiful.

Returning home after a few hours I see a herd of Red deer, on either side of the road. The late sun is now adding some warmth to the colours, and it looks nice. Despite this there are few good picture opportunities, too much fencing everywhere, and most of the herd are in the shadow of the hill. Then I see this chap slowly walking in the sun up towards the ridge, wait for him to get there and snap. Thank you.