Photographing Hummingbirds in the Wind River Canyon
Living in the Wind River Canyon is an amazing privilege. Less than a dozen residences are occupied year-round in this vast and rare ecosystem. The winters can be frightening, yet fascinating, as the snow blows by the cliffs in waves like an ocean, and we may be trapped in this paradise for days because the road is closed, like the four days this Spring. Fall in the canyon is a special time as the Bighorn Sheep, Deer and Elk begin their reproductive cycles, and we will see these wild animals from our home here. But it's the springtime that I really look forward to, because as the Sun warms up this isolated wilderness, hummingbirds begin to arrive from huge mountains far south.
I was standing on a ladder sixteen years ago when I saw my very first Wind River Canyon hummingbird, it was a Rufous Hummingbird male. So I purchased a nectar feeder and put up my very first Hummingbird Cafe. There were a few that first year that seems so long ago now, and it was in that Summer I came to have a favorite hummingbird, the Calliope.
The Calliope Hummingbird (Stellula calliope) is the smallest bird in North America and the smallest long-distance migrating bird in the world! They fly here from mountains in western Mexico, all by
themselves, contrary to what bizarre tale you may have heard. Calliopes are smaller than my thumb, but fly more miles than anyone I know. These little jewels are a real challenge to photograph, because they are the shyest of the four species that nest in the Wind River Canyon. The male will take the spot on the feeder that is up against the wall, and try not to be noticed by the Tiger of the Hummingbird world, the Rufous Hummingbird.
The Calliope Hummingbird is the one others can pick on; being small does make one a target for bullies, and I ought to know. Because of all this they are the species that represents the real challenge of wildlife photography; small, fast, and not here most of the time!
The Rufous Hummingbird (Selasphorus rufus), on the other hand, is the complete opposite of the Calliope; they
are aggressive and very territorial. I started calling them Tigers, because they're even the color of that big cat. Their gorget (armor protecting the throat-from a time when men wore armor) is striking orange, yet can change in color when the light is different. They are a little bigger than the Calliope, but not the largest of the hummers that breed in the Wind River Canyon. They're bold and always entertaining, and easier to get very close to.
In my experience most Hummingbirds have little fear, except of jumpy humans. And when you see a Rufous showing off his gorget, it's a sight that you will never forget. They are the easiest hummingbird to photograph, but still an immense challenge at three and three-quarters of an inch from beak to tail!
Years ago southern Colorado had devastating forest fires, and the Black-chinned
Hummingbirds (Archilochus alexandri) that commonly nested in that region had no place to go. They flew north to find appropriate nesting grounds and a few found the Wind River Canyon.
Black-chinned were born here that summer, and success meant they came back the following year, and always do. The males are not quite "black-chinned" because they have a stripe that flashes purple when the light hits the gorget right; trying to photograph this is a genuine pain in the you-know-what. Their particular aerial display is something to see, as they arc back and forth in front of a female at lightning speeds. They are strong and aggressive little birds that I never thought I'd ever see in the Wind River Canyon.
Last year the 4th hummingbird species to visit the canyon finally stayed and successfully
nested here. We had seen Broad-tailed Hummingbirds (Selasphorus platycercus) many times as they passed through in May on their way to some unknown land, and in late summer on their way to the mountains of western Mexico for the winter. They are the largest (4 inches) of the four species of hummingbirds that nest in the Wind River Canyon, yet are still not the fighters of the Rufous.
I can tell a Broad-tailed is in the area just by the sound their wings make when they fly; a metallic and powerful engine-like noise. Males have a gorget that is american-beauty rose red, and shines like an expensive ruby. The males are very green and cannot be mistaken for any of the other three species that nest here. Their aerial display consists of shooting up in the air for 75 feet and rocketing down at speeds that cannot be photographed.
I sometimes use a tripod, sometimes a monopod, but I prefer the old-west gunfighter strategy for photographing my hummingbirds; hold your weapon and react as fast as you can. I've used all the possible auto-focus settings that they've got....and none of them work. I prefer a spot AF and exposure settings, because all I want is for the hummingbird file to be right; everything else can be dealt with in post-production.
Shooting thousands of pictures of hummingbirds a summer is the norm, but only a few will ever be seen by anyone. The real secret is to move slowly and deliberately, and give them lots of time to "get to know you." This type of wildlife photography is all about trust. I had a female Rufous forced-off a feeder the other evening, her tail nearly touching my nose! I routinely have hummingbird wings brush my ears as they "come in for a landing," I'm that close and trusted by them. I also use a blind if I have to, but they're very hot to be stuck in on a
hot Wyoming afternoon. I never ever use a flash, because life in a twenty-first century wilderness is tough enough. This also means I'm pushing the technology to it's limits at times. Faster shutter-speeds, higher ISO's and lower f-stops are the tricks, along with lightning-quick reaction times....and patience; lots and lots of patience.
Most of all an artist needs a vision, and lots of practice. You only get better at something by repeating the process over and over again; I average over 20,000 frames a year. I try to photograph our hummingbirds every day they are here, if I can.
*A cute story - I got a wireless remote so I could take wildlife pictures from a distance. It seemed to be a good idea and is cool tech. Setting up the tripod close to a favorite hummingbird feeder, I sat under a juniper forty feet away with some iced-tea and the button. I was cool and comfortable and could experiment with my new toy. Making the camera shoot bursts from a distance was great, but resulted in nothing the first day this week I used it, when all of a sudden I heard the metallic wings of a Broad-tailed Hummingbird. This thumb-sized gorgeous male sat only six feet away, on a branch of the pine tree I lounged under, my camera forty feet away! I spoke right up and told him that this wasn't right to tease me this way, and this beautiful hummingbird just looked me over and hit my eyes with his ruby gorget. When he flew over to hit the nectar feeder, I ran to fetch my camera from the tripod; of course he didn't return.
This is the way it is with hummingbirds, or for that matter wildlife photography in general----"You get what they give you." I want them to be doing something special, or flying, but you only get what the little critter has to offer at that moment. I cannot ask the bird, or a Bighorn Sheep for that matter, to sit under that tree, or turn a certain way. I have found in the half century I've been interested in photography that hummingbirds are the most difficult of all subjects. The biggest problem is they don't speak English, and I cannot make the four warning sounds the Rufous female makes. And darn, they're so small.
Thank you once again for reading my blog about the wildlife in the Wind River Canyon.
Writing, photography, digital darkroom, website and opinions by Michael John Balog.
Hogbats Photography - HogbatsPhotography.com
Wind River Canyon
Wyoming