A Wild Valentine’s Day - Feb 14, 2025

Valentine’s Day is often associated with love, romance, and grand gestures—but for me, it was about embracing my deepest love: wildlife and nature. Instead of flowers and chocolates, I gifted myself a day under the sun, camera in hand, surrounded by the creatures that bring me the most joy.

When I woke up, the sun was shining—a rare and welcome sight in mid-February. I took it as a sign and grabbed my gear, eager to practice my videography skills at the lagoon. When I arrived at the lagoon, I was greeted by a lively gathering of Dunlins. These tiny shorebirds, with their delicate curved bills and quick movements, were completely at ease, preening, bathing, foraging, and socializing with each other.

Dunlins are fascinating feeders—constantly probing the wet sand and shallow water with their bills, searching for small invertebrates like worms, mollusks, and tiny crustaceans. Their feeding style is almost rhythmic, a synchronized dance of rapid pecking and scurrying as they move along the shoreline. I watched them work tirelessly, their little legs moving swiftly as they dodged waves and sifted through the sand. They paid me no mind as I perched myself on a nearby log, setting up my tripod and camera. It took a few tries to get my panning shots smooth, but I was determined. The Dunlins moved gracefully, and I was thrilled to capture both their stillness and motion in a way that felt authentic.

Feeling content with my footage, I turned my attention to a group of Black Oystercatchers. With their striking black plumage, bright orange bills, and piercing yellow eyes, they stood out beautifully against the rocky shoreline.

I watched as they expertly picked through the barnacles and rocks, using their strong, chisel-like bills to pry open mussels, limpets, and other shellfish hidden among the tide pools. These birds are specialists, perfectly adapted for life along the shore, and their feeding behavior is both methodical and impressive.

Just as I was getting into position for a good shot, the seagulls decided they wanted their fifteen minutes of fame. Again and again, they swooped in, blocking my view, stealing the spotlight with their chaotic energy. I couldn't help but laugh—freakin' seagulls, always finding a way to ruin my perfect frame!

As I continued my morning at the lagoon, I spotted a solo Killdeer, quietly foraging for breakfast along the shoreline. She was completely at ease, keeping to herself, her rich brown and white plumage glowing beautifully in the sunlight. Something about her solitary presence resonated with me—just like her, I was enjoying the peaceful stillness of the morning, immersed in my own world.

When I lifted my camera, she turned to me, as if offering a quiet hello before resuming her search for food. I didn’t stay long, wanting to respect her space and her moment of solitude. It was a brief but special encounter, a reminder that sometimes, the simplest moments in nature hold the deepest meaning.

Then, I heard it—the unmistakable call of a Bald Eagle. I scanned the treetops and spotted him high up in a pine, basking in the sun like a king surveying his domain. And then, seemingly out of nowhere, his partner appeared, landing gracefully beside him.

The two sat together, sunning themselves and squawking in conversation, a perfect pair. They allowed me the privilege of setting up my tripod, adjusting my camera, and capturing their moment. It was breathtaking to witness their connection, their presence commanding yet peaceful.

I was absolutely in my element, fully immersed in the beauty around me. But not everything was peaceful—kids throwing rocks at seagulls, off-leash dogs chasing birds, and the general disregard for the lagoon’s status as a protected bird migration sanctuary grated on me. It was frustrating, but I made the conscious decision to tune it out. There wasn’t much I could do in that moment, and at least people gave me space to focus on my photography.

As I stood there, watching the eagles through my camera lens, a realization washed over me: I was at the peak of my joy. Here I was, under a brilliant blue sky, surrounded by wildlife, doing exactly what I had dreamed of—capturing nature’s essence through photography and videography. How could life get any better?

Eventually, it was time to move on. As I drove away from the lagoon, something caught my eye—a dark brown hawk, perched alone in a tree, surveying his domain. I pulled over, quietly stepped out with my camera, and to my delight, he let me take a few shots. Then, as if acknowledging my presence, he locked eyes with my lens. The connection was brief but electric. When I whispered my thanks, he took flight, gliding effortlessly toward his next destination.

And so, I returned to my car, ready to head home and review my work. Learning a new skill—especially videography—is both challenging and rewarding. I remind myself that I won’t get everything perfect the first time, and that’s okay. Today was not about perfection—it was about presence.

Spending this day by myself, out in nature, with the wildlife that fills my soul with joy, was the best Valentine’s gift I could have ever given myself.