Wings in the Wind: A Serendipitous Spring Photo Adventure - April 12, 2025

Today was the first real sunny and warm day of spring, and wow—did it ever feel good. The birds were singing, the white fluffy clouds were drifting along doing their thing, and the air felt fresh with possibility. I headed out to Witty’s Lagoon here on Vancouver Island, hoping to find some birds to photograph—and I wasn't disappointed.

As I started down the long metal staircase to the beach, I caught sight of a Great Blue Heron standing majestically in a little tide pool. Unfortunately, someone had their dog off-leash, and it chased the heron farther down the beach. Thankfully, not too far. I made my way onto the sand and slowly approached from a respectful distance with my 600mm lens. The heron, standing in shallow water at the shoreline, was clearly aware of all the people around but allowed me to take a few quiet portraits.

Did You Know?

Great Blue Herons aren’t just found in freshwater wetlands—they’re also common along coastal beaches and tidal flats. These adaptable hunters patiently stalk small fish, crabs, and marine invertebrates in the shallows, using their sharp beaks like spears. Their ability to thrive in both freshwater and saltwater habitats makes them one of North America’s most widespread wading birds.

Great Blue Herons always look like they just got out of bed on a cold morning—grumpy, windswept, and totally over it. But somehow, they still manage to look majestic doing it.

A quick note: please respect the space of wild animals. I see far too many people get too close, stressing them out or disrupting their behavior. Give them room—they deserve peace in their own homes.

After spending time with the heron, I spotted two Black Oystercatchers foraging among the rocky shoreline, using their strong, bright orange bills to pry open mussels, limpets, and other shellfish clinging to the intertidal rocks. These birds rely on undisturbed shorelines to find food, and their feeding grounds are fragile—so if you're exploring these areas, please tread carefully and avoid stepping on the rocks where they forage. Their survival depends on access to these coastal buffet zones.

They were doing their thing—minding their own business—until a few Short-billed Gulls swooped in and decided to crash the party, in typical gull fashion. These medium-sized gulls, often mistaken for their larger cousins, are opportunistic feeders known for their boldness and curiosity—especially when food is involved. The black oyster catchers were too busy finding their breakfast to be bothered by the number that were gathering where they were feeding.

With wingspans reaching up to 6 feet, Great Blue Herons are powerful fliers, using slow, deep wingbeats to glide silently through the air. Despite their large size, they can fly at speeds of 30 to 40 km/h (19 to 25 mph), often tucking in their necks into an S-shape mid-flight. Their flight is not only graceful but also efficient—allowing them to cover long distances between feeding and nesting areas with minimal energy.

I took it as my cue to move on... apparently, so did the heron, who took off in flight, allowing me to catch a few mid-air shots. Such powerful, graceful creatures.

As I walked along the sandbar, I couldn’t help but notice the delicate patterns etched into the sand and the rippling reflections in the shallow water—like nature had taken the time to paint with wind and tide. It’s incredible how, even in the smallest details, the natural world creates such quiet beauty.

I then wandered to the lagoon side to see if the heron had relocated, and that’s when I spotted a small bird feverishly feeding in the shallows. At first, I thought it was a Whimbrel, but I was wrong (not a surprise—I'm still learning!). It turned out to be a Greater Yellowlegs, darting back and forth through the water. What an incredible bird to observe up close in that golden light.

Greater Yellowlegs are energetic feeders, often seen darting through shallow lagoons in search of small fish, insects, and crustaceans. Their rapid, back-and-forth motion helps stir up prey from the muddy bottom—making lagoons like this one an ideal buffet.

"There’s something deeply healing about watching birds—how they move, sing, and simply exist. In their presence, the mind quiets, the heart softens, and the weight of the world feels a little lighter."

Afterwards, I took a break at a picnic bench back at the beach, peeling an orange and just enjoying the view. Suddenly, I heard it—the unmistakable call of a Bald Eagle. My Aunt, the ever-watchful bird spotter, had already seen one flying in the distance, but this call was much closer. Then I saw her: perched high on a tall pine tree, her back to me, swaying gently in the wind. Even from far away, she was majestic. I stood there, just watching, soaking in the moment.

As we made our way back toward the staircase, something caught my eye at the top of another tall pine. At first, I brushed it off as a clump of pinecones glinting in the sun. But my Aunt, binoculars in hand, wasn’t so sure. “I think it’s a hawk,” she said. I raised my lens and—Eureka!—it was a juvenile bald eagle perched right in the middle of a bundle of cones, basking in the sunlight, not bothered in the slightest by all the beachgoers below. I moved around to find better angles and was able to capture some portraits. We made eye contact more than once, and for a brief moment, it felt like just the two of us existed. I was buzzing with joy.

I suspect the juvenile Bald Eagle I spotted belonged to the adult pair soaring nearby—perhaps their offspring from last season. Perched high in a pine tree, he looked content basking in the sun, swaying gently in the wind. It felt as though he was waiting for the right moment to take flight—when the breeze settled and the time felt right. Until then, he was simply enjoying the warmth and watching the world go by.

Did You Know?

Bald Eagles often form strong family bonds. While juveniles eventually leave the nest, they may stay near their parents' territory for several months—learning to hunt, soar, and survive. Sometimes, you’ll see them perched nearby, watching and waiting, as if taking quiet lessons from their majestic parents.

Partway up the staircase (100 stairs—I needed a break!), I paused and was rewarded with another gift from nature: an Anna’s Hummingbird perched on a branch with the BC mountains behind him, singing his little heart out. And then, just like that, he vanished.

After the beach, I made a quick trip to Pedder Bay Marina to see if any mergansers were around. No luck there—but I did spot a few Turkey Vultures riding the wind. It was tough to get good shots with how fast they were moving, but I managed a few in-flight captures.

Did You Know?

Turkey Vultures may look rugged from afar, but up close, their feathers shimmer with bronze, purple, and iridescent tones in the sunlight. Their dark coloring helps them absorb heat after chilly morning flights—practical and unexpectedly beautiful!

And just as I was about to leave, a Pine Siskin popped into view and—bless its heart—paused just long enough for a quick photo. But in true Pine Siskin fashion, it gave me the classic bird butt pose. I swear, every time I go out, those cheeky little birds manage to turn their backs on me at the last second. One of these days, I’ll do a full Bird Butt Blog—stay tuned! Still, they’re so beautifully patterned and full of personality, I can’t help but smile. I always want to say, ‘Please, just let me take your proper portrait!

As I drove home through a forest road, I spotted something odd in a tree and, for a second, thought it was a beaver (I know, I know—why would a beaver be in a tree?). I had to investigate. I parked safely, climbed a rocky hill for a better look, and with help from my Aunt’s binoculars, discovered it was a Raccoon, curled up and sleeping peacefully. I managed to get a few shots with my 600mm lens despite the tough angle and sun glare, and before I left, I whispered a quiet thank you. As I walked away, I watched it close its eyes again and return to its nap. It was the perfect ending to a day I’ll never forget.

No expectations. Just presence. And nature provided.

These past two years of focusing on wildlife photography have taught me more than I ever expected. Every time I go out, I feel my soul healing—little by little. Nature helps me keep life in perspective. It reminds me how vital it is to protect the wild so these animals can continue living their beautiful, natural lives. They bring us so much joy just by being themselves.

And the world needs that magic and yours.