As we drove through Virginia, the redbud trees were barely in evidence. Other harbingers of Spring were not so reticent.
To every thing
Tern! Tern! Tern!
There is a season
Tern! Tern! Tern!
And a time for every purpose under Heaven.
– The Byrds, 1965
Inspired by this song, I’ve been waiting all these years to get photos of terns. In mid-March, the Forsters terns at Huntington Beach State Park finally gave me the opportunity I needed. As the terns flew back and forth over the water, looking for their next meal, they would occasionally stop and hover, before diving to make their catch. Better yet, they would sometimes do this relatively close to shore, with the sun at least not directly in my eyes.
When I saw what a variety of wing positions had been captured, I was further inspired to make captions about voting, umpiring, bombing, blood-sucking, and taking off, eh?
Note that these birds do have eyes: You just can’t see them in my photos.
The “Ayes” have it.
Oh, no, it’s the “Nays.”
Safe!
Touchdown!
Coming in for my strafing run, outta the sun . . .
I vant to drink your blood.
That’s it, I’m outta here.
It was amazingly difficult to get sharp photos of these little guys. The only saving grace was the good light, which allowed me to use a fast shutter speed. This is my best shot, I think, but I also think I’m not done with terns yet.
One of the great things about wandering around with a tripod for sunset photography of various sorts is the unexpected shots it makes possible.
Or, as Sean Connery’s character said in Finding Forrester,
The way to a woman’s heart
is the unexpected gift
at the unexpected moment.
Yup.
I may have commented before how easy it is to set an increasingly high standard in photography, especially of birds. The slippery slope seems to have these stages:
Every once in a while, it does all come together. Just not very often . . .
Boneyard Beach on Bull/Bulls Island is a wonderful, picturesque place anytime.
At 5 AM, after a 30-minute ferry ride, a 30-minute milling and queuing period, and a 30-minute drive past startled deer on the verges of the highway, it was amazing.
En route home after a winter in Myrtle Beach, we swing wide to go through Virginia, hoping to see (and get good video of, natch) a repeat of the redbud glory that we saw two years ago along Interstate 81. But it is not to be. Mayhap that spring was unusually early; certainly this year has seen late snowstorms and hard freezes that have significantly discouraged the redbud trees, not to mention the other locals. Continue reading
Some photos make my teeth hurt: They’re so close to being what I wanted but aren’t quite there.
On a last-time-this-season visit to Huntington Beach State Park, I had early morning light, smooth reflective water, two obliging brown pelicans . . . and reflexes not quite fast enough to get a sharp focus. And of course it’s not like missing a shot of a bridge, which will be in the same spot, doing the same thing, tomorrow.
Maybe it’s like golf. The near misses keep you coming back, almost as much as the good shots.
Who knew there were so many ways for a brown pelican to look down its nose?
Who knew they had so much bird-ality?
Like the zebra (Is it white with black stripes, or black with white stripes?), this shot puzzles me a bit.
Is it a photo of a bridge or a sunset?
Yes.
Posted: 2025 Jun 13
Thanks to John Whitman for this slightly dismayed face from downtown Ottawa.
This space is available for other submissions.
