Bird studies with a camera

by Frank M. Chapman

INTRODUCTION

What is Bird Photography?—Bird photography, as I would encourage its practice, does not mean simply photographing birds; it means the use of the camera as an aid in depicting the life histories of birds. A picture of the bird itself is, of course, of the first importance, but any fact in its biography which the camera can be employed to portray is within the province of bird photography.

The Scientific Value of Bird Photography.—There are certain matters, such as a bird’s song, its time of migration, etc., which must be set forth with the pen; there are others, such as its haunts, nesting site, nest, eggs, the appearance and development of its young, where the camera is so far ahead of the pen in its power of graphic representation that it is a waste of time to use the former when circumstances permit the utilization of the latter.

A photograph of a marsh or wood showing the favorite haunts of a species is worth more than pages of description. A picture of a bird’s nesting site conveys a better idea of the situation than words can possibly give, while in place of such vague phrases as “nest of coarse grasses, weed stalks, rootlets, etc., lined with finer materials,” we have a faithful delineation of the nest itself. The shape and pattern of markings of the eggs may also be well shown with the camera, while the appearance of the young at birth, their development, and often the manner in which they are fed, may all be portrayed by the camera with a realism which convinces one of the truthfulness of the result.

By the exercise of much patience and ingenuity we may also photograph the adult bird, showing it at rest or in motion, brooding its eggs or caring for its young. Under favorable conditions such pictures may possess an exactness of detail which makes them perfect representations of the original, giving not alone position and expression, but the arrangement of the feathers, and they then have scientific value unequaled by the best productions of the artist’s brush or pencil.

From the nature of the case, perfection in this branch of bird photography is not always attained; nevertheless, even pictures which are failures from a photographic standpoint may be of interest to the naturalist. They may be lacking in detail and still give pose, thus furnishing models from which drawings containing all structural essentials may be made.

The camera may also supply us with graphic records of the few large colonies of birds yet existing in this country, thereby preserving for all time definite impressions of conditions which are rapidly becoming things of the past.

What an invaluable addition to the history of the Great Auk would be a series of photographs from Funk Island, taken during the period of its existence there!

Of what surpassing interest would be photographs of the former flights of Wild Pigeons, which the younger generations of to-day can with difficulty believe occurred!

The Charm of Bird Photography.—As a onetime sportsman, who yielded to none in his enjoyment of the chase, I can affirm that there is a fascination about the hunting of wild animals with a camera as far ahead of the pleasure to be derived from their pursuit with shotgun or rifle as the sport found in shooting Quail is beyond that of breaking clay “Pigeons”. Continuing the comparison, from a sportsman’s standpoint, hunting with a camera is the highest development of man’s inherent love of the chase.

The killing of a bird with a gun seems little short of murder after one has attempted to capture its image with a lens. The demands on the skill and patience of the bird photographer are endless, and his pleasure is intensified in proportion to the nature of the difficulties to be overcome, and in the event of success it is perpetuated by the infinitely more satisfactory results obtained. He does not rejoice over a bag of mutilated flesh and feathers, but in the possession of a trophy—an eloquent token of his prowess as a hunter, a talisman which holds the power of revivifying the circumstances attending its acquisition.

What mental vision of falling birds can be as potent as the actual picture of living birds in their homes? And how immeasurably one’s memories are brightened by the fact that this is not a picture of what has been but of what is!

The camera thus opens the door to a field of sport previously closed to those who love birds too much to find pleasure in killing them; to whom Bob-White’s ringing whistle does not give rise to murderous speculations as to the number in his family, but to an echo of the season’s joy which his note voices. They therefore have a new incentive to take them out of doors; for however much we love Nature for Nature’s sake, there are few of us whose pleasure in an outing is not intensified by securing some definite, lasting result.

We are not all poets and seers, finding sufficient reward for a hard day’s tramp in a sunset glow or the song of a bird. Enjoy these things as we may, who would not like to perpetuate the one or the other in some tangible form?

And here we have one of the reasons for the collecting of birds and eggs long after the collector’s needs are satisfied. He goes on duplicating and reduplicating merely to appease the almost universal desire to possess any admired although useless object. Once let him appreciate, however, the pleasure of hunting with a camera, the greater skill required, and the infinitely greater value of the results to be obtained, and he will have no further use for gun, climbing irons, and egg drill.

Furthermore, the camera hunter possesses the advantage over the so-called true sportsman, in that all is game that falls to his gun; there is not a bird too small or too tame to be unworthy of his attention; nor are there seasonal restrictions to be observed, nor temptations to break game laws, but every day in the year he is free to go afield, and at all times he may find something to claim his attention.

Finally, there is to be added to the special charm of bird photography the general charm attending the use of the camera. Thousands of people are finding pleasure in the comparatively prosaic employment of photographing houses, bridges, and other patiently immovable objects wholly at the camerist’s mercy. Imagine, then, the far greater enjoyment of successes not only of real value in themselves, but undeniable tributes to one’s skill both as photographer and hunter.

Nor should this introduction be closed without due acknowledgment to the educational value of photography, to its power to widen the scope of our vision, and to increase our appreciation of the beautiful. There is a magic in the lens, the ground glass, and the dark-cloth which transform the commonest object into a thing of rarest interest.