Wildlife Photography Trip Part 3: Mohawks and Magic - Kingfishers Encounter - June 29, 2025

The night before, as the sun dipped low over the Campbell River Estuary, I heard it—that sharp, rattling call. I followed the sound and there he was: a male kingfisher, perched alone on a rusty piling near the old marina, silhouetted against the golden light. He was on the hunt for dinner but paused just long enough for me to capture a single portrait—a moment of stillness and raw beauty that took my breath away.

At the time, I didn’t know that he would be a sign of what was to come.

On my way home to the south end of Vancouver Island, I made one last stop: French Creek Marina. I’d seen so many posts lately of sea lions sunbathing there, and I was hopeful I’d finally catch a glimpse of them myself.

But no such luck. Still, nature had other plans—and, as always, she didn’t disappoint.

Instead of sea lions, I was gifted something just as special: four belted kingfishers, two males and two females. And I'm not sure that is the best place for that seagull to be...hahaha.

I also spotted a few very vocal—but incredibly well-camouflaged—Killdeer, and a lone Greater Yellowlegs tiptoeing through the shoreline shadows. Without my 600mm lens, I might have missed them entirely.

Can you spot them in the photos below?

And while I didn’t manage to capture it on camera, one of the most surreal moments came when two turkey vultures silently circled overhead, close—very close. My Aunt and I were sitting on a picnic bench, filming the kingfishers, when we noticed a massive shadow pass over us. We looked up, and there they were—gliding just above, staring down with curious, ancient eyes. I waved and said hello. They circled once more and then disappeared into the sky. A quiet, hauntingly beautiful encounter.

I could hear a bald eagle calling in the distance too, but I never did spot it. Instead, I focused all my energy on filming the kingfishers. My goal? Capture them fishing.

Look at the sass on this female. Love it!

And of course, I ALWAYS get the classic butt shot. I could almost hear her say, ‘You’ve had enough, paparazzi—this is my good side!

And this male was enjoying the sun.

Although I didn’t get that dramatic plunge-and-catch moment, I did capture plenty of footage of them preening, perching, and interacting—and honestly, I never thought I’d even get that close.

The males, with their simpler blue-and-white coloring, were especially active—play-fighting mid-air, darting and diving, likely establishing territory or testing each other. The females, with their beautiful blue-and-rust-colored chests, were more reserved, often seen perched calmly as they watched the action unfold.

Female Kingfisher

Male KingFisher

One female moved over to a rocky beach and blended in so well I almost missed her entirely. But I could see her soaking up the warmth from the rocks on her little feet. So sweet!

I was stunned by their size. I always imagined kingfishers were just a bit bigger than hummingbirds, but they’re much larger—and even more striking. That bold, spiky mohawk crest makes them look like rockstars of the marsh.

Did You Know?

• Female belted kingfishers are more colorful than males, sporting both a blue band and a rusty-orange band across their chest. Males have only the blue band—making this one of the rare bird species where the female is flashier.

• Kingfishers can raise or lower their mohawk-like crest depending on their alertness, mood, or level of excitement.

As I sat watching them in the early morning light on that hot summer day, I felt something shift in me. An electric joy. A sense of awe. Just being there, a quiet witness to their morning routines, felt like a gift. These animals weren’t putting on a show—they were just living. And I was honored to be in their presence.

Every now and then, one of them would glance in my direction. Whether it was curiosity or a subtle nod of awareness, I don’t know—but in those moments, I felt deeply connected.

The most unforgettable moment came before I left. One of the male kingfishers dove and returned with an enormous fish. He flew to a branch and spent five solid minutes beating the life out of it on the wood. A nearby female kingfisher watched him with visible caution, like, “Okay... noted. He's not to be messed with.” I actually laughed.

He had just chased off the other male, so maybe he had some steam to blow off. It took him nearly ten minutes to gulp down that fish—it looked far too big for him to swallow—but he did it. And then he calmly began preening his feathers like nothing happened, looking incredibly proud and satisfied. He was powerful, confident, and totally unapologetic. I was in awe.

Spiritually speaking, kingfishers symbolize peace, prosperity, and boldness.

They are said to appear when you are being asked to trust the process of life, to dive headfirst into opportunity even when the surface looks still. Seeing one—let alone four—can be a sign from the universe to embrace your voice, your instincts, and your creativity. It reminds us to speak clearly, leap bravely, and live fully present in our truth.

For me, in that moment, I felt it. A message not of words, but of energy:

“Keep going. Your presence matters. Your quiet witnessing of this world is magic too.”

As the wind picked up, I quietly packed my gear and left them to their day. But inside, I was buzzing with joy. I whispered a silent thank you to the kingfishers before heading to the car.

BONUS: I wonder what he's thinking. I imagine it's something like "When you see your reflection and realize you’ve been yelling at your own face." or " Contemplating the meaning of life... or just whether that was a fish or a stick." Hahaha! Too funny!

Driving home, I reflected on the past three days—days filled with wildlife, wonder, and wordless connection. Every single creature reminded me that we’re not so different. We’re all just trying to live—find food, feel the sun, spend time with others, and settle into the rhythm of the world around us.

This trip was a powerful reminder that when we stop long enough to truly observe, we don’t just see animals…We see ourselves.

And for that, I’m so incredibly grateful.