The Moment Before the Ground - The Caucasian squirrel / Sciurus anomalus - Captured in the North Aegean Region - Türkiye
© All rights reserved — any use, reproduction, or curation requires prior written permission via Flickr mail.
I waited for this light. The squirrel waited for safety. For a brief moment, both came together - Yesterday, beneath the ancient olive trees of the North Aegean, patience once again became part of the photograph.
The wind was strong, reaching nearly 50 km/h. Autumn had clearly arrived, and the olive harvest was drawing near. In these conditions, the old trees were moving heavily in the wind, and I knew that the squirrels would most likely remain in the safety of their hollows after their morning feeding.
After lunch, I made a spontaneous decision to take my Nikon Z8 and 500mm lens and head into the olive groves. I did not expect much.
For nearly an hour and a half, I simply watched.
Then I noticed movement on one of the ancient olive trees. A young Anatolian squirrel emerged from its hollow and carefully secured itself among the branches. Whenever the wind eased, it moved from branch to branch until it reached another tree. I quietly moved beneath a nearby trunk and waited.
Eventually, just as I had hoped, the squirrel began to look down from the trunk.
Before descending, it paused.
It remained almost upside down against the bark, carefully examining its surroundings. Only after it was satisfied that everything was safe did it prepare to reach the ground.
At that very moment, the scene I had imagined came together.
Behind the squirrel, wild daisies had appeared naturally among the olive trees, creating a soft mixture of colours. The backlight was exactly where I had hoped it would be, gently shaping the background into a delicate bokeh and illuminating the squirrel's fur.
I remained completely still.
The Nikon Z8 was silent, mounted on the monopod. From where I was sitting, I followed the squirrel only with my eyes and pressed the shutter when the moment appeared.
One detail I have repeatedly observed with Anatolian squirrels is how carefully they approach the ground. They do not simply descend and begin feeding. From the safety of the tree, they first survey the surroundings. They can reach seeds lying roughly two metres away from the trunk, making use of the natural cover provided by the wild vegetation.
Even after reaching the ground, they remain cautious. After feeding for a while, they often return to the trunk, placing their backs against it and watching the surroundings once again before returning to the seeds.
Instinct, scent, sound and exceptionally sharp vision seem to form their own alarm system.
Nature leaves little room for mistakes.
Yesterday, I witnessed this remarkable behaviour once again.
I eventually returned home with more than three hundred frames on my Z8 card. But the number of photographs was not what made me happy.
For three hours, beneath the ancient olive trees, I had been given the opportunity simply to watch.
And once again, nature had quietly reminded me that sometimes the photograph comes only after we learn to wait.
Seen and witnessed with grateful eyes.
I've captured some unforgettable moments with my camera, and I hope you feel the same joy viewing these images as I did while shooting them.
© All rights belong to R. Ertuğ. Please refrain from using these images without my express written permission.
If you are interested in purchasing or licensing them, feel free to contact me via Flickr mail.
Rıdvan Kemal Ertuğ
Lens & support:
Nikon AF-S TC-14E III — hand-held or monopod, SPORT VR enabled.
Aperture set to f/8, full focal length.
All images were converted from RAW to JPEG.
During long walks, I use either a Nikon cross-body strap or a monopod.
Monopod setup:
Gitzo GM2542 Series 2 4S Carbon Monopod
Really Right Stuff MH-01 Monopod Head (Standard Lever)
Really Right Stuff LCF-11 Replacement Foot for Nikon AF-S 500mm f/5.6E PF
Your comments and constructive criticism are always appreciated.
Thanks for stopping by and taking the time to explore! 😊
The Moment Before the Ground - The Caucasian squirrel / Sciurus anomalus - Captured in the North Aegean Region - Türkiye
© All rights reserved — any use, reproduction, or curation requires prior written permission via Flickr mail.
I waited for this light. The squirrel waited for safety. For a brief moment, both came together - Yesterday, beneath the ancient olive trees of the North Aegean, patience once again became part of the photograph.
The wind was strong, reaching nearly 50 km/h. Autumn had clearly arrived, and the olive harvest was drawing near. In these conditions, the old trees were moving heavily in the wind, and I knew that the squirrels would most likely remain in the safety of their hollows after their morning feeding.
After lunch, I made a spontaneous decision to take my Nikon Z8 and 500mm lens and head into the olive groves. I did not expect much.
For nearly an hour and a half, I simply watched.
Then I noticed movement on one of the ancient olive trees. A young Anatolian squirrel emerged from its hollow and carefully secured itself among the branches. Whenever the wind eased, it moved from branch to branch until it reached another tree. I quietly moved beneath a nearby trunk and waited.
Eventually, just as I had hoped, the squirrel began to look down from the trunk.
Before descending, it paused.
It remained almost upside down against the bark, carefully examining its surroundings. Only after it was satisfied that everything was safe did it prepare to reach the ground.
At that very moment, the scene I had imagined came together.
Behind the squirrel, wild daisies had appeared naturally among the olive trees, creating a soft mixture of colours. The backlight was exactly where I had hoped it would be, gently shaping the background into a delicate bokeh and illuminating the squirrel's fur.
I remained completely still.
The Nikon Z8 was silent, mounted on the monopod. From where I was sitting, I followed the squirrel only with my eyes and pressed the shutter when the moment appeared.
One detail I have repeatedly observed with Anatolian squirrels is how carefully they approach the ground. They do not simply descend and begin feeding. From the safety of the tree, they first survey the surroundings. They can reach seeds lying roughly two metres away from the trunk, making use of the natural cover provided by the wild vegetation.
Even after reaching the ground, they remain cautious. After feeding for a while, they often return to the trunk, placing their backs against it and watching the surroundings once again before returning to the seeds.
Instinct, scent, sound and exceptionally sharp vision seem to form their own alarm system.
Nature leaves little room for mistakes.
Yesterday, I witnessed this remarkable behaviour once again.
I eventually returned home with more than three hundred frames on my Z8 card. But the number of photographs was not what made me happy.
For three hours, beneath the ancient olive trees, I had been given the opportunity simply to watch.
And once again, nature had quietly reminded me that sometimes the photograph comes only after we learn to wait.
Seen and witnessed with grateful eyes.
I've captured some unforgettable moments with my camera, and I hope you feel the same joy viewing these images as I did while shooting them.
© All rights belong to R. Ertuğ. Please refrain from using these images without my express written permission.
If you are interested in purchasing or licensing them, feel free to contact me via Flickr mail.
Rıdvan Kemal Ertuğ
Lens & support:
Nikon AF-S TC-14E III — hand-held or monopod, SPORT VR enabled.
Aperture set to f/8, full focal length.
All images were converted from RAW to JPEG.
During long walks, I use either a Nikon cross-body strap or a monopod.
Monopod setup:
Gitzo GM2542 Series 2 4S Carbon Monopod
Really Right Stuff MH-01 Monopod Head (Standard Lever)
Really Right Stuff LCF-11 Replacement Foot for Nikon AF-S 500mm f/5.6E PF
Your comments and constructive criticism are always appreciated.
Thanks for stopping by and taking the time to explore! 😊