Life through a Lens

When I first started birding, I was led to believe that bird watchers were generally a grumpy, cliquey and taciturn bunch with little time for novices. After a few years in the business now, I can say that this is largely unfounded – in fact in most cases the complete opposite is true and I have met many informative, interesting and friendly people.

There is however, one large blue bottle hovering menacingly over the ointment: the selfish behaviour of some photographers, and yesterday, I witnessed yet another example of crass behaviour from another wannabe Lord Snowdon.

Keen to photograph a Black-tailed Godwit close to the right-hand side of the hide he walked over and shoved himself in between myself and two other people sitting to my right without uttering a word. Still not satisfied that he was near enough – despite having a lens the size of a nuclear warhead – he then proceeded to ram himself in the corner of the hide forcing myself and the other two birders to move.

Happy that he was now as close as humanly possible, he fired approximately 2,000 frames over the next fifteen minutes and exclaimed loudly to everybody in the hide (obviously assuming us all to be idiots) how the bird was clearly a juvenile – it was an adult moulting. When I explained this his response was “Well, it’s not red like the rest is it.”

This is by no means a unique incident. Recently a photographer had to be removed from the Hen Harrier roost at Parkgate – evidently unconcerned about the distress he would cause the birds. The over-wintering Waxwings at Wepre Park also suffered from intruding paparazzi and must have been more photographed than Princess Diana was in her entire life.

Such actions are difficult to explain and raise many questions. Like a heroin addict some snappers seem only able to focus on one thing - getting a hit - or in this case a picture (or 2,000) - with no regard paid to the object or fellow observers. When in possession they then proceed to overdose heavily – how is it possible to look through all the frames properly, and how many pictures does the world need of Waxwings?

Digital cameras are largely to blame for this phenomenon as people do not have to be judicious in the use of their clicking finger. It seems the ‘art’ of photography has now been reduced to the law of averages.

Possession of a massive lens also seems – in some delusional minds at least – to transport the owner to a new high caste of nature watcher where no etiquette or rules need to be observed and where everybody else’s needs are secondary.

I do not wish to tarnish every photographer with the same brush and I do appreciate some of the wonderful images that are taken, but sometimes I think some of you need to take a step back and look at the wider ‘picture.’

Until later.