Sanderling in water, Parker River National Wildlife Refuge

I've thoroughly enjoyed my summer opportunities to photograph piping plover chicks, but I'm ready to do some sandpiper photography! It's exciting to see the bird reports that they're starting to arrive on Plum Island, and I'm hoping to get out to find a flock soon.

Constant motion, Piping plover chick on Plum Island

When they're not brooding under a parent, tiny piping plover chicks seem to be in constant motion. Just like the adults, they have a sprint and stop motion as they cross the sand and watch for potential prey. I have found it hard for my lens to keep the face of the bird in focus when they move suddenly, but the bright light of the late morning sun helped the autofocus track this little one as it sprinted across the sand in front of me, momentarily paused to check something out, then shot off again.

Shared with Wild Bird Wednesday -- follow the link for this week's posts.

Least tern courtship, Sandy Point State Reservation

Here's a series of images from a foggy morning photographing the courtship rituals of least terns on the beach at Sandy Point State Reservation.

He arrived ready to woo her with his fish, but their mating attempt appeared to be unsuccessful this time. They fought a little bit over the fish, but the female came away with it in the end.

Brooding piping plover chicks, Sandy Point State Reservation

While it’s fun to capture portraits or action shots of piping plover chicks running about on their own, I’m partial to photographs of the interactions with their parents. It was four years ago that I had my first opportunities to photograph these special moments on Plum Island. On only my second trip to see the chicks, I had the encounter that I only dreamed would actually come together – a clean shot in sunrise light with all four chicks crammed under a parent and a mess of 10 legs sticking out the bottom. It’s a simultaneously comical and incredible sight. I’m always hopeful I’ll have a similar encounter again, but it hasn’t yet materialized in the same way. I love any type of brooding shot where you can see the young ones tucked underneath, and in these, three little fluff balls are trying to squeeze in together.

Small piping plover chick on a big beach, Plum Island

There were multiple broods of piping plover chicks exploring the beach at Sandy Point State Reservation on this June morning. By the time I made it around the main beach and over toward in the inlet, the sun was already getting pretty high in the sky. For most other subjects, it would easily have been time to pack up the gear and head home. But when you're photographing something that's just an inch or two above the ground, the light sand almost works like a giant reflector -- helping to reduce the contrasting shadows from underneath and extending the time for photography.

Sense of scale, Piping plover at Sandy Point State Reservation

Sometimes, while watching these birds on the beach through a large telephoto lens, you forget the sense of scale. Especially when their curiosity brings them close and they fill your viewfinder. But then one passes by a tiny plant in the sand, just three leaves on a side, and you remember how small these chicks are -- and how amazing it is that they're responsible for feeding themselves!

Under the watchful eye of a parent, Sandy Point State Reservation

A young piping plover chick exploring the beach as its parent watches in the background. Perhaps I'm reading too much into it, but the out of focus parent seems a bit frazzled to me as it's calling out and running down the beach. I suppose that's to be expected when you're trying to keep watch over four small chicks, each heading in a different direction!

California quail on a fence post, Point Reyes National Seashore

A classic Point Reyes scene – a California quail perched on a fence post set against a backdrop of the coastal scrublands of the peninsula. I’ve spent plenty of hours scouring the park for photographic opportunities like this and have never tired of attempting them. I've collected many of images of quails perched on posts, and while they may look similar, each has its own story to tell.

Golden hour, Point Reyes National Seashore

Pastures bathed in golden light and the deep blue of the Pacific drew my attention, and my lens, away from the grazing tule elk across the road on this surprisingly clear summer evening in Point Reyes National Seashore.

Tule elk in summer wildflowers, Point Reyes National Seashore

On this July 2016 evening, a small herd of tule elk were grazing in the wildflowers along the road to Drake’s Beach.

The shadows were getting long as the sun dropped toward the horizon, and these females slipped in and out of the warm rays, as a male watched over the harem.

Avocets in the salt ponds, Don Edwards National Wildlife Refuge

Another treat of my July 2016 trip was taking a morning to catch the sunrise at Don Edwards National Wildlife Refuge. This is a hotspot for large flocks of stilts and avocets, which are the birds that initially pulled me into photography over a decade ago.

I find avocets to be so elegant in how they look and move, and they’re a rarity to find back home in Massachusetts. The light wasn’t great by the time I made it around to the salt ponds, but I did appreciate that a few avocets wandered toward my position along the shoreline to offer a reflection in the quiescent water.

Rocky outcrop on Mt Tam

Following-up on my previous post, after being swallowed into the sea of gray at my first location, I drove out of the cloud and stopped at a rocky outcrop that was still above the fog. Despite being on opposite coasts, the texture and patterns in the stone reminded me of the glacier-scarred granite of Cadillac Mountain in Acadia (a place where I have unsuccessfully tried to photograph a similar vantage above the fog). The leading lines in stones like this capture my imagination, though I had trouble finding the right vantage to include both the stone and the distant rising fog.

Enveloped by fog, Mount Tamalpais State Park

In contrast to my 2014 trip, when I was scrambling to find the right pullout before missing the sunset, I arrived with plenty of time to spare on this trip. I chose my spot and sat on a rocky outcrop with enough time to meditate in the evening sunshine. Unknowingly, I selected a vantage point that was a little too low in elevation for the day’s weather conditions. I enjoyed watching the rising fog creep up the valleys and lap up against the lower outcrops of pines. Suddenly, something changed and the fog rapidly rose and fully enveloped my position. I went from warm sunlight and colors to being submerged in cold windy gray in just a few moments. Despite my best intentions of selecting one place for the sunset, I now had to race down the narrow trail of the hillside in thick pea soup to find my rental car so that I could drive to a higher elevation to take advantage of the remaining light somewhere else.

Island in the fog, Mount Tamalpais State Park

The lure is strong to be above the coastal fog for a sunset when I manage to make it back to California for photography, and I've tried to plan for one evening each trip to be on Ridgecrest Blvd in Mount Tamalpais State Park. I love watching the dynamics of the rising tide of fog filling the valleys, and in this case, forming small hilltop islands set in a sea of roiling moisture.

Tule elk grazing in the fog, Point Reyes National Seashore

My nascent photographic vision was developed under the coastal fog of Point Reyes, and now that I’m settled in the Northeast, I don’t have nearly as many opportunities to experience ground-level fog like this. Standing in the middle of a thick cloud is perhaps a bit heavier than would be truly helpful for photography, but it does add a different feel of weight and solitude to the story told by a photo. I don’t know if sounds are actually dampened in fog, but looking back at these images, my mind’s interpretation is a quiet scene with only the sound of elk footfalls softly stepping through the wet grass.