I was once told by a friend, “It’s never the wrong weather only the wrong gear.” I’m still not entirely convinced that applies to wildlife photography, but I do try to live by it. So when I saw a report online about green violet swallows at a local sanctuary, I grabbed my gear, scooped up my adventure cat Finn, and headed out. It was dark and stormy, the kind of sky that looks like it could open up at any moment—but I was determined. This time, instead of rushing, we wandered

As a wildlife photographer, I rarely convert my photos to black and white. For me, wildlife photography has always been about colour — the iridescent greens of a hummingbird, the soft browns of a squirrel’s fur, the dramatic contrast of a black oystercatcher against the shoreline. Colour is part of the magic of nature. But recently, I decided to try something different. Instead of focusing on colour, I began observing wildlife and nature moments as if the world were in black

We checked out of the hotel at 6:00 AM on the final day of our trip. By this point we were tired, frozen, and completely soaked from the past two days of chasing the herring spawn up and down the coast. But we were also determined. Based on the latest reports I had found, the most recent sightings of herring activity were near Lantzville, so we decided to make one final stop before heading home. When we arrived at the beach, it was immediately clear that something was happeni