There’s something about the stillness of an open field in early spring that always pulls me in. On this recent trip to Yorkshire, I was hoping to photograph some of the usual suspects; lapwings, skylarks, maybe even a barn owl if I was lucky. But what I hadn’t expected was to witness a dramatic moment between two reed buntings, caught in a mid-air dispute that turned out to be one of my favourite captures in recent months.
Reed buntings aren’t showy birds at first glance. The males have a striking black head and white collar, but beyond that, they tend to blend into the hedgerows and reedy margins where they spend much of their time. The females are far more subtle, streaked and sandy-toned, and easy to miss unless you’re really looking. But what they lack in bold colours, they more than make up for in behaviour, especially at this time of year.
I’d set myself up at the edge of a large, open field bordered by a mix of bramble, reeds and scattered hawthorn. I thought there were buntings in the area asI’d seen flashes of movement earlier in the morning, but they were staying low, tucked into cover. As the light softened and the wind dropped, I stayed still and waited, hoping something might unfold.
Then, out of nowhere, two birds burst into view a male and female reed bunting in mid-air, wings flared and beaks open in what looked like a split-second clash. It wasn’t aggression in the way you’d see from raptors or corvids, it was more subtle, possibly part of a courtship dispute, or maybe a territorial disagreement. But it was intense, fast, and completely unexpected.
It happened quickly, as it always does. I’d already been tracking the male in the undergrowth, so I was locked on when he took off. The female rose up to meet him, and for just a second, they were suspended in that perfect moment of interaction, wings spread, feathers flared, eyes locked.
I was shooting with my Sony α1ii, using the 400mm GM with a 1.4x teleconverter, and had the settings dialled in at 1/4000, f/4, ISO1000. That speed was just enough to freeze the motion and capture the intensity of the mid-air drama.
These are the moments I chase … the ones you can’t predict, can’t stage, and only get to witness if you’re patient enough to wait. Reed buntings might not have the allure of some of the more dramatic birds, but they have character! They’re feisty, full of life and sometimes, they surprise you with a moment of theatre you never saw coming.
Comments are closed.
INSTAGRAM
@paulbrowning.photography
@snowboard.paul
@macro.paul
TWITTER
@paul__browning_
FACEBOOK
@PaulBrowningPhotography
@snowboardpaul
@macro.paul.surrey
INSTAGRAM
@paulbrowning.photography
@snowboard.paul
@macro.paul
TWITTER
@paul__browning_
FACEBOOK
@PaulBrowningPhotography
@snowboardpaul
@macro.paul.surrey