Category: Blog

Where I live, Noisy Pittas are only seasonal visitors. They arrive in the winter months, staying for just a few precious weeks or months before vanishing back to higher elevations. As altitude migrants, they move between lowland and upland forests depending on the season—a behavior that makes encounters even more fleeting and unpredictable.

Photographing the Noisy Pitta has never been easy. Last year, I managed to capture a pretty good photo—one I was proud of at the time. Here it is.

But as soon as the moment passed, I knew I wanted more. This year, I made it a personal mission to improve on that result—to not only see the bird again but to create an image that truly honors its splendor and the intricate world it inhabits.

That mission took time. Two weeks of early mornings, long hikes, quiet waiting, and careful listening passed before the opportunity finally arrived.

To make things more difficult, this year’s wet season has been one of the wettest I can remember. The jungle was constantly soaked, trails were muddy rivers, and the sound of rain on the canopy was near constant. I often found myself working in conditions no typical photographer would even consider stepping outside in. But sometimes, that’s what it takes—embracing the discomfort, waterproofing your gear as best you can, and waiting, soaked and silent, for that one brief moment when the forest offers a glimpse of something extraordinary.

After days of tracking their calls echoing through the dense undergrowth, I stumbled upon what felt like the perfect stage. A vertical root of a strangling fig tree stood like a natural sculpture in a small clearing, draped with moss and surrounded by lush, layered ferns.

To minimize any impact on the bird, I took extra care to remain hidden and non-intrusive. I wore a full ghillie suit, blending completely into the forest floor, and positioned myself across a small creek, using the natural barrier as a buffer zone. With a long telephoto lens, I was able to observe and photograph the Pitta from a respectful distance, ensuring it remained relaxed and undisturbed in its environment. It was important to me that the image was not only beautiful, but ethically made.

The light in the jungle was almost non-existent—especially under thick cloud cover during the rain. It was a dim, moody atmosphere that pushed both my camera and my resolve to the limit. Shooting in such low light meant relying on high ISO settings and trusting that my gear could handle the challenge without sacrificing too much detail. But in a way, that darkness added to the mystery, making the moment the Pitta emerged feel even more surreal.

Then, after all the waiting, all the soaked mornings and silent hours, it happened—the Pitta jumped up onto the stage I had imagined so many times in my mind. My heart started racing. In that instant, everything narrowed to the bird, the frame, and the light—or lack of it. I managed to get the shots not by luck, but because I’ve spent so much time out here, so many days behind the lens, that using my gear has become second nature. I didn’t have to think—I just reacted.

And then, the moment became even more special. Because of the rain, tiny droplets clung to the bird’s feathers, adding a shimmer I couldn’t have planned for—a delicate, natural detail that elevated the whole image. It was a rare, perfect combination of timing, conditions, and preparation.

It’s going to be extremely hard to beat these photos next time—but I’ll still be out there trying.

Which photo do you like more—one from 2024 or from 2025? Let me know in the comments below👇