A bird photographer's bane

Ask any serious birdwatcher how many species they've seen, and almost every one of them will ask you what you mean by "seen"

- Eben Swart.

When it comes to “seeing”, birdwatchers have different standards. Some will tick a bird off their list if they hear its call – even if they don’t actually see it. Others will mark it as “seen” if they get a good enough glimpse to identify it, maybe even hear it too. And then there are those who believe you can only count a bird if you’ve managed to take a photo of it for proper identification.

For various reasons, I fall into the last category. At 61, my hearing isn’t what it used to be. I struggle to hear the high-pitched calls of the sunbird and the chinspot, let alone tell the two apart. So, no – I don’t count a bird if I hear it, because I simply don’t hear them.

People say seeing is believing, but after decades of birdwatching, I no longer subscribe to that idea. Not even when I have a witness – usually my wife – with me. Too often, we’ve agreed on a bird’s identity, only to later see on my computer screen that we were completely wrong.

That’s why I prefer a good photo before adding a species to my list. But even this method isn’t foolproof, because birds aren’t the kind of creatures that sit still, waiting for a camera to click. No, most of them – especially the small ones – are in a constant state of motion, never sitting still for a second and twisting their all-important little heads, with their all-important little eyes, in every possible direction. That’s why you need a trigger finger as quick as Dirty Harry’s, ready for that magic moment when the sun’s sparkle catches the bird’s eye.

On a recent visit to the Ndumo Game Reserve, I learned an important life lesson. If you’ve ever wondered which side of a bush birds prefer, the answer is: the other side. And they never sit still in one spot – they have their own agenda, scratching through dry leaves and hopping around in search of food before suddenly, for no apparent reason, flying off.