Christmas Morning Among Wings and Winter Fields - Dec 25, 2025

Christmas has changed for me.

When most of your family has passed, the day no longer looks like busy houses, loud gatherings, or long traditions. It becomes quieter. More reflective. And for me, it has become something else entirely—an invitation to step outside and let nature hold the space instead.

This Christmas morning, my Aunt, Finnegan, and I bundled ourselves into the car and headed out into the cold. It was –1°C, off-and-on raining, and far from ideal weather—but perfect for car photography and slow observation. Our destination was a stretch of farm flats known to host migrating swans. I’ve photographed them before, but they’ve always been too far away for anything truly intimate. This time, we decided to try again—patiently, quietly, and from the warmth of the car.

Before we ever reached the swans, nature had other plans.

Our first encounter was with a kestrel—and what an encounter it was. We pulled over along a farm road and simply watched as he hunted. From the power lines, he scanned a watery ditch beside the field, then suddenly launched himself downward, only to rise again and reposition further along the road. Over and over, he worked the landscape with focus and precision.

Did you know?

Kestrels are one of the few birds of prey that can hover in place while hunting. By rapidly beating their wings and using the wind, they stay suspended in the air as they scan for small mammals and insects below.

At one point, he perched on a lone pole in the open flat and looked… almost defeated. But patience pays off in the wild. He eventually caught something—I couldn’t quite tell what—but his posture changed instantly. Success. Satisfaction. Kestrels often hunt along ditches and farm edges because these areas attract voles and mice. Even when it looks like nothing is happening, a kestrel may be tracking movement we can’t see.

As we moved on, I suddenly spotted greater white-fronted geese mixed in with a flock of Canada geese. They were far off, but thank goodness for my 600mm lens—I was able to pull over and capture a few shots despite the distance.

Did you know?

Greater white-fronted geese are long-distance migrants that travel thousands of kilometres between their Arctic breeding grounds and wintering areas. Their distinctive laughing call is one of the best ways to identify them, even before you see them.

Then the sky came alive.

From another part of the flats, hundreds—maybe thousands—of geese took to the air overhead. The honking was overwhelming in the most incredible way. The sound vibrated through my body, echoing across the fields as they lifted, landed, and took off again… and again.

Did you know?

Large goose flocks will often take off and land multiple times in a short period. This can happen when they’re responding to predators, repositioning for feeding, or simply strengthening group cohesion and flight coordination.

I couldn’t tell if they were practicing or reacting to a hawk that passed through, but whatever the reason, it was unforgettable. Raw. Alive. Ancient.

And then—finally—we found the swans.

The first sight stopped us in our tracks: two swans bathing together in a flooded farm field. We watched quietly as they preened, moved in sync, and looked at one another with a tenderness that felt almost sacred. It was one of those moments you don’t photograph right away—you just witness it.

Did you know?

Swans often preen and bathe together as a way to strengthen pair bonds. Many swan species form long-term partnerships and rely on synchronized behaviours to maintain those bonds.

Further up the field, there were several flocks, including a group of around thirty. Some had cygnets with them, and Canada geese were intermixed throughout. I’ve always thought geese were big birds—but beside swans, they looked tiny.

Did you know?

Swans are among the largest flying birds in the world. Some species can weigh over 25 pounds and have wingspans exceeding 7 feet, making even large geese look small by comparison. Swans can be 2–3 times heavier than Canada geese.

One baby swan even squawked at a goose, clearly unimpressed. I laughed out loud.

Haha, look at that face. Like he just didn't yell at some geese. So cute!

The swans’ size is incredible. Every so often, one would look directly at me, tilting its head with a curious expression—as if trying to figure out what I was doing there. Swans have excellent vision and are highly aware of movement in their surroundings. That curious head tilt is often a sign they’re assessing whether something nearby poses a threat—or is simply worth observing.

I managed to capture some video, but as my setup drew more attention from passersby's who were stopping as well and the swans began honking louder, I knew it was time to leave. Wildlife deserves peace, especially on a cold winter morning. Video to come soon!

So we headed home—full hearts, quiet minds.

If you ever find yourself spending Christmas solo, I encourage you to step outside. Go for a walk. Sit in your car with a warm drink. Bring your pet. Let nature keep you company. Solitude doesn’t have to be lonely when the wild world is there to meet you.

A heartfelt thank you to my Aunt for coming along and acting as my spotter—and for sharing the stillness of the morning with me. Some of the most meaningful holidays are the quiet ones.