Backlit sanderlings, Ogunquit Beach

As I mentioned in my previous post, the conditions weren't ideal for photography on my fall trip to Southern Maine -- but when I find a flock of friendly sandpipers, it's worth making the most of it! As the rising tide continuously pushed the flock to different positions around me, I had to settle for some angles looking directly toward the morning sun. When this happened, I pulled my eye away from the viewfinder and just enjoyed the lively scene of this energetic flock of shorebirds. Thankfully, there were some high clouds passing through, so when one slipped in front of the sun, I'd go back to the camera and work what I could. At the time, I didn't have much faith that any of the images would turn out. This proved to be mostly true when I reviewed the images later, but this frame stood out to me with the pattern of the three feeding birds and enough details in the shadows. It's not my typical style of shorebird photography, but it's fun to take advantage of a new challenge when the opportunity presents itself.

Sanderlings in Maine

Maine is not synonymous with shorebirds for me -- as most of our experiences in coastal Maine, since moving to Massachusetts, have been in Acadia. While there are probably shorebirds around that area at certain times of year, I haven't had the pleasure of seeing any on our summer trips. This fall we took a short weekend trip to southern Maine, and a priority goal was to hit the beach at sunrise to search for some peeps. I checked the eBird recent sightings, and judged that Ogunquit Beach would likely be my best chance. It just so happened that we traveled there during "OgunquitFest" weekend, and I was surprised at how many other folks were out strolling the beach for the sunrise. I can't blame anyone for ever wanting to enjoy the sun rising over the water, but the density of people out early on the beach meant that my chance to encounter a friendly flock of sandpipers had greatly decreased. It was a still a delight to take a long morning stroll through the exposed sands of a low tide, but not a single shorebird was out along the way.

My luck turned though as I made my final approach back to the parking lot. Down at the far end of the beach (in the opposite direction of how I walked) was a small flock of maybe 50 sanderlings. Even though the good light had faded, I wasn't about to pass up my first chance in months to share space with some shorebirds. The direction of the beach made getting a good angle tough, and the light was only reasonable when I cloud passed over the sun, but it was fantastic to hear their exuberant peeping as they probed the sand being covered by the rising tide.

With less than ideal conditions, including having to put the rising tide at my back, I didn't fully commit to a true eye-level view of the birds -- which has been my preferred technique over the last few years. Keeping my camera on the ballhead a few inches above the ground worked out reasonably well though when they approached the saturated sand, giving me the chance to capture some reflections. Even if I didn't come away with any portfolio level images, it was still fun to add a new state to my shorebird catalog.

Serenity in a salt marsh, Parker River National Wildlife Refuge

"What good is a salt marsh?" asks the sign at the long pull-off area next to the salt pannes in Parker River National Wildlife Refuge. I love this sign with its catchy title, and it shares important natural features of these awesome ecosystems. For me, the essence of a salt marsh goes even further. There's something about this ecosystem that just pulls me in -- far enough that I studied them for my Ph.D.! The sights, the smells, just the feel of a breeze flowing over them, it's all unmatched for me. Photographically, I haven't made that many images that attempt to capture some of that magic. I'm usually distracted looking for wildlife, like this snowy egret, rather than focusing on all of the interesting details that abound.

On my drive out of the refuge as the sun was dropping fast toward the horizon, I pulled off the road to watch this delightful snowy egret hunting in the shallow water. Its feathers were drenched in the warm glow of the falling light, and it emphatically leapt from panne to panne as it searched for a meal. I followed it with my lens, having to roll the car forward a few times to keep up with its exuberance. Egrets are a marvel to watch as they hunt, darting this way and that, shading the water, and seemingly dancing their way through the process. I was happy to observe its show near the road, and after a few minutes, it flew further back into the marsh. The golden light was caressing the salt grass and casting low shadows, and everything fell into place when the egret landed and set off a wave of small ripples, leaving me with one of my favorite photos from 2017.

So what good is a salt marsh? The list of benefits is long, but at the top for me is the warm feeling that overcomes my consciousness when I'm able to soak in a scene like this.

Sprint and stop, Piping Plover at Sandy Point State Reservation

As I mentioned in my favorite photos of 2017 post, this very friendly piping plover gave me a lot of great looks as it sprinted across the sand and then stopped on a dime. It's an interesting behavior -- I'm not sure if it's related to finding prey or to evading predators, but its certainly common among the piping plovers I've had a chance to observe. After I positioned myself in the sand, the plover kept working its way closer, giving me wary but seemingly curious looks along the way. It continued to close the distance between us, with the frame below being taken at 270mm on my telephoto zoom. Eventually, it came close enough that I could no longer attempt to focus on it (my Tamron has a minimum focusing distance of 8 feet), so I pulled back from the viewfinder and just enjoyed the chance to observe a gorgeous shorebird at close range. It's always special to earn the trust of a wild animal and the opportunity to share space with it on its own terms!

Protection from the world, Sandy Point State Reservation

I led off my favorite photos of 2017 post with this handsome piping plover and its chick set against the lush green backdrop of the dunes. On its own, that image (the last in this post) warms my heart with a tender moment between a parent and the most important being in the world to it (something I can now relate to!). I think the full context of this image is interesting to show as well. It was a reasonably nice day on the beach, but there was an occasional stiff wind ripping over the inlet and across the spit of sand at the tip of Sandy Point State Reservation. The strong gusts were pelting us with blowing sand, and this noble adult was attempting to shelter its chick from the elements.

But when the winds settled down, the chick was ready to go again, and quickly pulled away from the warm embrace of its parent.

It paused for a moment, leaning in for reassuring touch before darting across the sand on its own. I can empathize with how I imagine the parent must have felt, left behind to watch its offspring cutting out on its own -- still needing protection and assurance, but also the chance to explore the world independently. No matter how much we want to, there's only so much we can do to protect our kids, and at least mine still has a while to go before he's charting his own path across the beach!