Photography about patience
When wildlife photographer Craig McKenzie crawled along on his belly into a swamp and a pied stilt popped up into frame, it was a defining moment.
‘‘I distinctly remember the first time when it came together for me as a photographer.
‘‘I was at Hoopers Inlet, on the Otago Peninsula. I was crawling down between the reeds trying to get close enough to the pied stilts.
‘‘I had my camera up and focused, and all of sudden a bird popped up and filled the frame,’’ McKenzie said.
In 40 years as a photographer, the 60-year-old has been chasing those sorts of shots ever since.
Getting them is a combination of patience, luck, and knowing birds’ habits.
‘‘I knew the feeding times, so if you can get to the right place at the right time, that’s when the luck happens.’’
He will be sharing his experiences, and comparing bird and human behaviour in a lighthearted talk as guest speaker at the annual South Island gathering of Forest and Bird at Tautuku in the Catlins this weekend.
Last year’s New Zealand Bird of the Year was the kea, a bird well-known for its ruffled feathers and attitude.
‘‘If you compare that to a human, it’s a gelled-haired teen up to no good.’’
This year the kereru¯ took the crown. The fact they lurch about after eating fermented berries could be compared with drunkenness in humans, he said.
His work features in numerous books and magazines and he has won a number of awards.
His photographic exhibition entitled Conversations with Southern Birds is on show at the Owaka Museum and Catlins Information Centre until December.
‘‘They [birds] don’t talk to me but I wish they’d listen. It would be great if I could say to them, ‘If I sit here I want you to pop up on the rock’, and because I have learned about their behaviour, sometimes they do.’’
The former software developer, who began photographing wildlife on tramping trips, has captured many rare bird images.
‘‘My interest started with alpine plants but you can only do it in summer, so I thought why not birds, because I can do those all year round.’’
Living in Dunedin, he also did not have to go too far from home.
When he started out, it was also the advent of digital photography, so it was easier to reel-off multiple shots and wait for those key moments.
The photo that remains elusive is the at-risk yellowhead or mohua, once abundant in the Catlins.
‘‘They tend to spend most of their time in the small branches high in trees so they are hard to spot.’’
It is disheartening to him that the Catlins penguins he has photographed often over the years are getting fewer in number.
His ultimate shot would be the New Zealand falcon.
‘‘With those, it’s just a matter of being there at the right time.’’
Photographers can enjoy great success on outings but failure comes with the territory, McKenzie said.
‘‘You just have to accept disappointment.’’
‘If you compare that [the kea] to a human, it’s a gelled-haired teen up to no good.’ Craig McKenzie