Lacerta Bilineata
In The Tall Grass
ROE DEER (CAPREOLUS CAPREOLUS) | ADULT MALE | 05-2023 | TICINO | SWITZERLAND
VIDEO of the deer: www.youtube.com/watch?v=S3GFWK6hGYc&t=1s
My best photos are here: www.lacerta-bilineata.com/ticino-best-photos-of-southern-...
And in case you're interested, the black-and-white version of this photo is here: www.lacerta-bilineata.com/ticino-best-photos-of-southern-...
THE STORY BEHIND THE PHOTO:
When I decided a couple of years ago that my nature photography would be focusing only on what I was able to capture from within my garden or its immediate surroundings, I was aware I would likely never be able to shoot anything bigger than insects and reptiles, and perhaps - if I got lucky - birds.
You can find the reasoning behind my admittedly very limiting approach to photography here in case you're interested www.flickr.com/photos/191055893@N07/52278144284/in/datepo... ; I'm only bringing it up again because due to this self-imposed "strictly-garden" rule, a shot like the one above was something I originally never could have hoped for.
I captured this roe buck in May 2023, but unlike with the last photo I posted here, I didn't break my own rule. Nature always surprises me - but I guess I should start at the beginning. As some of you might remember, in spring 2022 I had already had an unexpected encounter with a roe deer, a beautiful female, just outside my garden. This made me realize that against all odds and contrary to what I had believed, bigger forest wildlife occasionally DID venture close enough to my garden for me to photograph it - just never once the sun was up and human activity in the village had started.
I was able to capture lady roe deer with my camera the following day from within my premises, but due to the low light conditions and high ISO required, the resulting image was so grainy it looked more like a Van Gogh painting than a photo, and so I opted for black-and-white: www.flickr.com/photos/191055893@N07/52441239338/in/datepo...
My doe-eyed neighbor subsequently returned on several occasions, always in the early hours, though she would inevitably retreat back into the forest as soon as sunrise approached, and I was never able to get a daylight shot. That was fine though; I was over the moon that I had gotten a photo of this beautiful animal at all, because that was already more than I ever expected.
Cut to spring last year, when my whole vacation went down the drain - quite literally - because it drowned in a seemingly never-ending downpour of rain. The entire month of May was cold, damp, dark and miserable, and the only cheerful thing about it was the sign attached to Heaven's floodgates: "YES, WE'RE OPEN: ALL DAY, EVERY DAY!" π
I rarely left the house, but one time when I briefly did go out around noon to inspect how much damage the constant downpour had caused to the terrain around my vacation home, I was greeted by a wonderful surprise: an impressive, almost regal looking roe buck was grazing peacefully in the meadow just below my garden.
"Of course!" I thought, mentally face-palming myself for not realizing sooner what should have been obvious to a country bumpkin like me from the beginning: the constant rainfall may have been a nuisance to us people, but precisely because it kept humans in, the animals of the forest dared to come out.
In such damp conditions, with no two-legged creatures around threatening them, the wildlife of the nearby woods enjoyed the rare privilege of grazing in the open field in broad daylight (well, calling it "broad" might be a bit of a stretch considering the lousy weather, but there WAS daylight alright - at least I could see my hands and it was definitely day π ).
I wondered how many times in the past weeks I would have had the opportunity to finally get a "noise-free" shot of this shy ungulate if only I had remembered that I always used to go out and observe wildlife as a child when the weather was bad. But I certainly wouldn't let THIS chance here pass; carefully, veeeeery slowly I retreated back into the house to get my camera.
When I returned, the roe buck was thankfully still there (I glimpsed him through the bushes in my garden), and so I confidently applied what I consider my greatest (and some might say only π) real skill as a nature photographer: the SSA (that's short for "Sneaky-Stealth Approach" in case you wonderedπ). I pride myself in having mastered this high art, and now was the moment to put it to use.
Alas, things did not go as planned. Just as I stretched my head out from behind the young ash tree that served as my cover and was about to set one foot into a more stable position (naturally in slow motion - as is protocol for the SSA π), Mr. Roe Buck decided to look up - and our eyes met.
Needless to say, we were both not happy. A - very - brief exchange of looks (or rather stares) followed, which I would translate into language thusly:
Roe Buck (startled): "What the -... Why are you out of the house, human? It's raining: this is against the rules!"
Me (pleading): "I'm really sorry. Can't we just pretend you didn't see me so I can photograph you? Please?"
Roe Buck (outraged): "How dare you! This is entirely out of order: I shall report this!"
And with a last clearly disgusted look at the unruly human he took off and darted towards the woods. But just before he reached the forest, he stopped and turned around. For a moment he just stood there in the tall grass, completely still, and looked back at me as if he wanted to make sure he hadn't just seen some ghastly apparition, which allowed me to get the shot you see above.
That moment only lasted a couple of seconds, then Mr. Roe Buck stepped gracefully into the woods and disappeared from my eyes. But he made good on his promise: as soon as he had reached the safety of the dense chestnut forest that surrounds our tiny village he started barking loudly, making sure every inhabitant got the report that a human was lose in the neighborhood.
I was more than satisfied though; the photo you can see here was taken from almost 30 meters away, and even though it lacks any real depth of field and isn't exactly crisp, I love the pose and the eye contact, and I think it conveys quite well what an elegant creature this is.
And I'm happy to report that the roe buck apparently didn't hold a grudge, as he subsequently came back many times (he was - and still is - easily recognizable by his unusual, very distinct almost white "mask").
The meadow below my garden is apparently his "turf", and I've been able to photograph (and film: www.youtube.com/watch?v=S3GFWK6hGYc&t=1s ) him and his most loyal lady friend on many more occasions than I could and frankly WOULD have wished for (because - you guessed it - the weather here has been lousy WAY too often, particularly this year π).
Thankfully though, I've gotten better at the SSA, which means that nowadays I manage to observe and photograph these noble creatures discretely enough that they don't have to complain about me to the forest police π.
That's all for now; many greetings from Switzerland and have a great start into the new week everyone! And as always: thank you all so much for letting me know what you think in the comments (even though it will take me ages to respond as I haven't even managed to thank everyone who has commented on the last photo - but I promise I will). π π β€
In The Tall Grass
ROE DEER (CAPREOLUS CAPREOLUS) | ADULT MALE | 05-2023 | TICINO | SWITZERLAND
VIDEO of the deer: www.youtube.com/watch?v=S3GFWK6hGYc&t=1s
My best photos are here: www.lacerta-bilineata.com/ticino-best-photos-of-southern-...
And in case you're interested, the black-and-white version of this photo is here: www.lacerta-bilineata.com/ticino-best-photos-of-southern-...
THE STORY BEHIND THE PHOTO:
When I decided a couple of years ago that my nature photography would be focusing only on what I was able to capture from within my garden or its immediate surroundings, I was aware I would likely never be able to shoot anything bigger than insects and reptiles, and perhaps - if I got lucky - birds.
You can find the reasoning behind my admittedly very limiting approach to photography here in case you're interested www.flickr.com/photos/191055893@N07/52278144284/in/datepo... ; I'm only bringing it up again because due to this self-imposed "strictly-garden" rule, a shot like the one above was something I originally never could have hoped for.
I captured this roe buck in May 2023, but unlike with the last photo I posted here, I didn't break my own rule. Nature always surprises me - but I guess I should start at the beginning. As some of you might remember, in spring 2022 I had already had an unexpected encounter with a roe deer, a beautiful female, just outside my garden. This made me realize that against all odds and contrary to what I had believed, bigger forest wildlife occasionally DID venture close enough to my garden for me to photograph it - just never once the sun was up and human activity in the village had started.
I was able to capture lady roe deer with my camera the following day from within my premises, but due to the low light conditions and high ISO required, the resulting image was so grainy it looked more like a Van Gogh painting than a photo, and so I opted for black-and-white: www.flickr.com/photos/191055893@N07/52441239338/in/datepo...
My doe-eyed neighbor subsequently returned on several occasions, always in the early hours, though she would inevitably retreat back into the forest as soon as sunrise approached, and I was never able to get a daylight shot. That was fine though; I was over the moon that I had gotten a photo of this beautiful animal at all, because that was already more than I ever expected.
Cut to spring last year, when my whole vacation went down the drain - quite literally - because it drowned in a seemingly never-ending downpour of rain. The entire month of May was cold, damp, dark and miserable, and the only cheerful thing about it was the sign attached to Heaven's floodgates: "YES, WE'RE OPEN: ALL DAY, EVERY DAY!" π
I rarely left the house, but one time when I briefly did go out around noon to inspect how much damage the constant downpour had caused to the terrain around my vacation home, I was greeted by a wonderful surprise: an impressive, almost regal looking roe buck was grazing peacefully in the meadow just below my garden.
"Of course!" I thought, mentally face-palming myself for not realizing sooner what should have been obvious to a country bumpkin like me from the beginning: the constant rainfall may have been a nuisance to us people, but precisely because it kept humans in, the animals of the forest dared to come out.
In such damp conditions, with no two-legged creatures around threatening them, the wildlife of the nearby woods enjoyed the rare privilege of grazing in the open field in broad daylight (well, calling it "broad" might be a bit of a stretch considering the lousy weather, but there WAS daylight alright - at least I could see my hands and it was definitely day π ).
I wondered how many times in the past weeks I would have had the opportunity to finally get a "noise-free" shot of this shy ungulate if only I had remembered that I always used to go out and observe wildlife as a child when the weather was bad. But I certainly wouldn't let THIS chance here pass; carefully, veeeeery slowly I retreated back into the house to get my camera.
When I returned, the roe buck was thankfully still there (I glimpsed him through the bushes in my garden), and so I confidently applied what I consider my greatest (and some might say only π) real skill as a nature photographer: the SSA (that's short for "Sneaky-Stealth Approach" in case you wonderedπ). I pride myself in having mastered this high art, and now was the moment to put it to use.
Alas, things did not go as planned. Just as I stretched my head out from behind the young ash tree that served as my cover and was about to set one foot into a more stable position (naturally in slow motion - as is protocol for the SSA π), Mr. Roe Buck decided to look up - and our eyes met.
Needless to say, we were both not happy. A - very - brief exchange of looks (or rather stares) followed, which I would translate into language thusly:
Roe Buck (startled): "What the -... Why are you out of the house, human? It's raining: this is against the rules!"
Me (pleading): "I'm really sorry. Can't we just pretend you didn't see me so I can photograph you? Please?"
Roe Buck (outraged): "How dare you! This is entirely out of order: I shall report this!"
And with a last clearly disgusted look at the unruly human he took off and darted towards the woods. But just before he reached the forest, he stopped and turned around. For a moment he just stood there in the tall grass, completely still, and looked back at me as if he wanted to make sure he hadn't just seen some ghastly apparition, which allowed me to get the shot you see above.
That moment only lasted a couple of seconds, then Mr. Roe Buck stepped gracefully into the woods and disappeared from my eyes. But he made good on his promise: as soon as he had reached the safety of the dense chestnut forest that surrounds our tiny village he started barking loudly, making sure every inhabitant got the report that a human was lose in the neighborhood.
I was more than satisfied though; the photo you can see here was taken from almost 30 meters away, and even though it lacks any real depth of field and isn't exactly crisp, I love the pose and the eye contact, and I think it conveys quite well what an elegant creature this is.
And I'm happy to report that the roe buck apparently didn't hold a grudge, as he subsequently came back many times (he was - and still is - easily recognizable by his unusual, very distinct almost white "mask").
The meadow below my garden is apparently his "turf", and I've been able to photograph (and film: www.youtube.com/watch?v=S3GFWK6hGYc&t=1s ) him and his most loyal lady friend on many more occasions than I could and frankly WOULD have wished for (because - you guessed it - the weather here has been lousy WAY too often, particularly this year π).
Thankfully though, I've gotten better at the SSA, which means that nowadays I manage to observe and photograph these noble creatures discretely enough that they don't have to complain about me to the forest police π.
That's all for now; many greetings from Switzerland and have a great start into the new week everyone! And as always: thank you all so much for letting me know what you think in the comments (even though it will take me ages to respond as I haven't even managed to thank everyone who has commented on the last photo - but I promise I will). π π β€