When I was a little girl I remember chasing robin’s around my backyard to take photos of them. I would slyly- or so I thought at the time- sneak up on them as they hopped or flew away from me. Of course I could never actually get close enough, nor was my cheap film camera exactly the proper equipment to get a decent photo of these robin’s, so when I would get my developed film back the bird would be no more than the size of a nickel on my 4×6″ photo. I would then take scissors to the photograph and cut out the tiny robin from it. I made a collage of robin’s in my scrapbook this way and I really wish I still had that scrapbook to show you. It was a page full of little blurry robin’s looking perturbed and disrupted taken from the expanse of my backyard.

This was the start of two things I thoroughly enjoy in life. #1: taking photos, and #2: birds.

I still don’t have the proper lens for taking photos of birds, but over time my hobby of watching birds has taught me many things about taking a good photograph: anticipation and patience. Knowing how to anticipate moments before they happen and having the patience to wait for those moments to unfold. To catch a glimpse of a bird is not always easy. They move fast, hardly settling on a branch for more than a few seconds, and are quite skittish. But, if you’ve already tuned in to their song and noticed that subtle movement in the brush you’ll be in a much better position to know when and where they are going to show themselves. I take this practice into all my photography work. I am a quiet observer anticipating the next move.

By the way, the title of this blog post is drawn from the title of a book by Jon Young. If you’re interested in birding, or connecting with nature in general, I highly recommend checking out his work.