What I've Learned Doing Urban Nature Photography

When my focus is a picture of an insect or other very small creature, I can usually frame the shot so that no human artifact appears. This way, the viewer can't tell if I am in the middle of the Everglades National Park or sitting in the driveway of my front yard. When the subject is larger than a finger, the illusion of being deep in the wilderness is harder to create because evidence of urban life is everywhere. On Monday during my tramp around the lake behind campus, I happened upon a great egret, a stately though common-as-dirt bird found at most bodies of water. The egret still had its frilly mating plumage and perched upon a submerged branch. Here was the opportunity to take a swamp picture while I was three miles from Theme Park Mecca! But I was directly across from campus and couldn't help getting the loading dock in the shot:


Water birds will wing off at the first sign of danger, so I crept to a new spot to make undeveloped shoreline the background. I can reposition myself more easily with the 300 mm lens because my greater distance from the bird threatens it less. The only problem is that greater magnification means less depth of field. As the egret considered whether it should fly off, glancing over its shoulder for a safe place to land, I lost the necessary clarity for a good shot:


I stopped, waiting for the bird to feel safe and settle back on his perch. Finally, I was rewarded with a shot that I could say I took in the Everglades, even if I really didn't:


As I've said here before, I prefer fauna photographs with the creature showing a little attitude. Eventually, my patience won me this:


For me, what was just a typical bird picture becomes a shot worth viewing with that red tongue and shed feathers showing off some egret sass.