Backyard Wildlifing - Sept 10, 2026

The heat, the harsh light, the position of the sun and the simple fact that many animals seem to have the good sense to stay somewhere cool during the hottest parts of the day can make finding something to photograph feel almost impossible.

So, rather than wandering farther and farther in search of wildlife, I decided to try something different.

I went wildlifing from my balcony.

This sounds considerably easier than it was.

I am not particularly good at sitting still. I like to be moving. Walking, exploring and looking for things gives my mind somewhere productive to go. Movement helps keep my thoughts on track and, quite frankly, helps keep depression at bay.

Sitting in one place and simply waiting does not come naturally to me.

But I did it anyway.

And something unexpected happened.

Once I stopped moving, I started noticing just how much was moving around me.

The deer wandered through. First, he stopped mid-snack and stared straight at me as if to say, “Do you mind? I’m eating.”

Then, apparently deciding I wasn’t worth interrupting lunch for, he went right back to his munchies with a generous serving of side-eye on the side.

I caught this little squirrel sneaking up to one of my planter boxes and very carefully digging out a nut he’d apparently stashed there for safekeeping. He was completely focused on the operation—until he suddenly realized I was watching.

The look he gave me was priceless.

“Human. You saw nothing. We do not speak of the emergency nut stash.”

Then he went right back to work like I had just been formally sworn to secrecy.

Tiny birds darted through the branches, occasionally stopping just long enough for a photo and a perfectly timed side-eye that seemed to say, “You again? Honestly, human.”

Overhead, a Turkey Vulture circled across the blue sky, then looked directly down at me the exact moment I took the photo. Very much a, “Can I help you?” expression.

Did you know? 

Turkey Vultures circle because they’re riding rising columns of warm air called thermals. It lets them gain height and travel long distances while barely flapping their wings, basically the wildlife equivalent of finding the free elevator. From up there, they can search a huge area for food while conserving energy.

None of it was spectacular in the traditional wildlife-photography sense. I hadn't travelled into the wilderness. I hadn't hiked kilometres or waited beside some remote wetland.

I was sitting on my balcony.

And yet there was an entire little community carrying on around me.

The longer I stayed, the more I saw.

That may have been my favourite discovery of all.

I spend a lot of time going out looking for wildlife. There is always another trail to walk, another corner to check, another place where something might be. But this little experiment reminded me that sometimes wildlife photography isn't about searching harder.

Sometimes it is about becoming still enough for the world around you to reveal itself.

And apparently, there is a surprising amount of wild living going on right outside my door.

I really like this direction for your conservation storytelling, because it quietly says something bigger too: nature isn't only “out there” in parks and wilderness. Deer, squirrels, birds and all these little lives are sharing our neighbourhoods and backyards with us every day. We just don't always notice them.

And I think your line “when I was forced to slow down and sit still” is really the heart of the story. I wouldn't make the depression part any heavier than you've made it here; that one candid sentence gives the reader enough to understand why slowing down was significant for you.