This story began during my search for compelling, storytelling images when I decided to visit one of the local parks. Initially, there was nothing particularly exciting or unusual to photograph. It wasn’t until near the end of my walk, at the shallow end of the lake, that I noticed a stunning sight: a blanket of snowflakes covering the water like a pristine white carpet.
Whenever I come across flowers like these, I always aim to capture a bird amongst them, and this time, I was fortunate enough to have a live model to bring my idea to life – a Comb-crested Jacana. This bird is an intriguing species, typically quite skittish, but on this occasion, when it noticed me, it quickly ran to the edge of the lake, where I managed to capture a rare shot of it on the grass. This was a moment I don’t recall ever witnessing before, and a great achievement in itself.
To minimise my impact on the scene, I lay down and used my camouflage to blend in. While the bird remained aware of my presence, it was calm enough to relax and begin moving around. Gradually, I was able to inch closer to my vision of having the Jacana surrounded by the delicate snowflakes. Over the next two hours, I worked my way from the edge of the lake, getting progressively closer to the centre of the blooming carpet.
The results of my two-hour session are proudly shared below.
The Australian bush changes after dark. As the heat fades and the night insects begin their chorus, a small spotted predator emerges from the rocks and hollow logs. The northern quoll is quick, curious, and surprisingly fierce for its size. Photographing this elusive marsupial means entering a world most people never see—one of midnight hunts, agile climbs, and a creature fighting to survive in a rapidly changing landscape.
Fun Facts about Northern Quoll
They’re Australia’s tiny “tiger cats” – Despite their small size (about the length of a ruler plus a tail), northern quolls are fierce predators. Their reddish-brown fur covered in white spots has earned them nicknames like “native tiger cat.”
They’re carnivorous marsupials – Unlike kangaroos or koalas, quolls are meat-eaters. A northern quoll’s diet can include:
insects
spiders
small reptiles
birds
small mammals
They’re opportunistic hunters and excellent climbers.
Males live shockingly short lives – One of the most dramatic facts: male northern quolls die after their first breeding season. During mating season they go into a hormone-driven frenzy—often mating with multiple females for hours at a time, barely eating or sleeping. The stress leads to immune collapse and death, meaning most males live only about one year.
They’re night explorers – Northern quolls are nocturnal, spending their nights roaming rocky outcrops, forests, and savannas in search of food. During the day they sleep in tree hollows, rock crevices, or termite mounds.
Their feet are built for climbing – They have rough pads and sharp claws, allowing them to scale trees, cliffs, and even buildings surprisingly well.
Cane toads are one of their biggest threats – The arrival of the invasive Cane Toad has devastated many northern quoll populations. Quolls try to eat them but are poisoned by the toads’ powerful toxins. Conservation programs now train quolls to avoid toads by giving them small, nausea-inducing meals made from toads so they learn the taste is bad.
Females have only six teats – a female quoll typically gives birth to 20–30 tiny young, but she only has six teats, so only the strongest six survive to develop in the pouch.
They once lived across northern Australia – Today they’re mostly found in northern parts of Australia, especially rocky habitats across regions like Northern Territory, Western Australia, and Queensland.
They’re endangered in the wild – Because of threats like cane toads, feral cats, habitat loss, and fire, the northern quoll is listed as endangered. Conservation groups and zoos are working hard to protect them.
Dusk in Quoll Country
While working in the Northern Territory, I was lucky enough to spend time on Groote Eylandt, one of the few places where northern quolls still thrive. Photographing them required patience more than anything else. I would arrive at a likely spot before sunset and sit quietly, trying not to move while the bush gradually shifted from day to night. Although these little predators are technically nocturnal, they sometimes emerge a few minutes before the sun actually disappears. On several evenings a curious quoll would appear while there was still plenty of light, which meant I was able to capture a few rare daylight photos of these normally night-active animals.
Where Quolls Still Rule
One reason Groote Eylandt is such an important refuge for the Northern Quoll is the absence of the invasive Cane Toad. Across much of northern Australia, cane toads have devastated quoll populations because the animals attempt to prey on them and are poisoned by their powerful toxins. Groote Eylandt, however, remains one of the few places where toads have never established a population. Strict biosecurity controls on incoming ships and cargo help prevent them from reaching the island. Without this deadly invader, northern quolls here can still live much as they once did across the mainland—roaming the landscape as one of the area’s small but dominant predators.
Moments with a Northern Quoll
The photos below capture a few moments I was lucky enough to witness while observing northern quolls on Groote Eylandt. Watching these small predators emerge from the rocks, sniff the air, and cautiously explore their surroundings was an unforgettable experience. Every encounter felt slightly different—sometimes just a quick appearance before they vanished into the bush, other times a curious individual lingering long enough for a few frames. If you’ve ever seen or photographed a Northern Quoll yourself, I’d love to hear about it. Feel free to leave a comment and share your own experience or tips for spotting these incredible animals in the wild.
In this article, I want you to focus on enjoying the photos, rather than wading through lengthy explanations. For those of you who follow most of my posts, you’ll likely find full articles with all the behind-the-scenes details for many of these shots.
Included in these shots are photos of the black butcherbird, where I experimented with the dark key technique, a house sparrow against a colorful seed-filled background, a dotterel stretching a worm, a bee-eater captured mid-flight, and a megapode making a loud call.
That said, I’d love to hear your thoughts—let me know which photo is your favourite!
The Tanami Desert is getting less rain this year compared to last, and air temperatures are reaching new extremes, with highs of 44°C and ground temperatures soaring to 75°C. This intense heat drastically limits the time both wildlife and I can spend outdoors. A thermal image of my boot shows surface temperatures nearing 60°C after walking, while nearby termite mounds register even higher ground temperatures — hot enough that it feels like my feet are being slowly boiled inside my boots. While I usually enjoy long hours out in the cooler weather, the past few months have made it tough to stick to my usual routine. And I’m not exaggerating; the following thermal images tell the story.
Thermal image of my boot after 10 minutes walk in the desert (~60°C)Thermal image of a termite mound (~75°C).
An Unexpected Encounter
One early morning, I managed to get out before the heat rolled in, and I couldn’t believe my eyes when I spotted a bright red bird hopping along the ground. There aren’t many birds with such a striking colour, and it immediately grabbed my attention. It was a Crimson Chat. I’d seen one last year and assumed they’d just pass through the desert without stopping, like some migratory birds do. I thought if you were lucky enough to spot them, it would only be for a short window—just a couple of days. But I’m happy to admit I was wrong. To my surprise, the Crimson Chats are ground-dwellers, more like pipits than the tree-perching birds I expected. This changed everything, and I realised I had been searching in the wrong places.
The Allure of the Crimson Chat
As someone who loves capturing vibrant red tones in my photos, I was thrilled at the chance to spend more time with these incredibly bright and captivating birds—ones that never seem to lose their charm through the lens.
The Challenge of Capturing the Chats
I now understand why photographing them on the ground is such a challenge. First, they’re incredibly active and rarely stop moving, making it hard for even the most advanced autofocus systems to keep up. Second, they prefer areas with dense spinifex grass, which makes getting an eye-level shot nearly impossible. The spinifex, which is everywhere, constantly blocks clear views. Lastly, the intense heat haze that often hangs over the ground also makes it difficult to get sharp, focused shots.
A Stroke of Luck
Earlier in the season, I was lucky to find some controlled burns had cleared areas of the spinifex, opening up small gaps through which I was able to get clearer views and photographs.
And then—look at those colours! I’m still in awe of the vivid sight of these birds.
The Female Crimson Chat
In the next photo, you’ll see the female Crimson Chat, and you’ll notice the stark difference in colouration. While the males are bright and eye-catching, the females are much more subdued. This is likely an evolutionary trait to help them blend in while nesting and avoid drawing attention.
A Game of Hide and Seek
One memorable encounter involved a bit of “hide and seek” with a female. I tracked her until she darted behind a small bush and disappeared from view. If you can spot her in the photo, I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments below!
Laughs and Learnings: Fun Facts about Crimson Chats
The “Bouncy” bird. Crimson Chats are often described as “bouncy” birds. Instead of walking or running like most other birds, they hop around on the ground, much like a little kangaroo. This hopping behaviour is cute and comical to witness, especially when they bounce energetically from one spot to the next as if they’re on a spring-loaded trampoline!
The “Flamboyant” Males. Male Crimson Chats really know how to stand out, often flaunting their vibrant red plumage like they’re on a runway. They practically scream, “Look at me!” when they’re trying to attract a mate, but ironically, their bold appearance makes them an easy target for predators. It’s like they’ve dressed for a party but forgot it’s a survival game. Talk about a fashion risk!
The “Chatty” Socialites. Though their calls are not overly loud or frequent, when a group of Crimson Chats does decide to have a “chat,” it’s like they’re gossiping in a birdie huddle. It’s almost like they’re trying to decide who’s got the best feathers or who’s won the title of the most stylish bird in the desert. Their calls sound like little whispers—birds seem to gossip as much as humans!
The “Oops, I’m a Ground Bird!” Moment. Crimson Chats can be hilariously awkward when it comes to tree hopping. Though they’re mostly ground-dwellers, they’re technically capable of hopping up onto low branches, but their attempts often look pretty funny, as if they’re not quite sure what they’re doing. They tend to look slightly confused about the whole “perching” thing, almost like they’re saying, “I don’t think I belong here… do I?”
Bali is not an ideal destination for a wildlife photographer. In my experience, there are very few publicly accessible parklands or natural areas. Much of the land is heavily subdivided and intensively used for rice cultivation, meaning it is frequently flooded and difficult to traverse. Water is everywhere on Bali due to the extensive rice fields and irrigation systems, with constant running streams forming part of the landscape. Narrow strips of tall trees do exist, but access is often impossible due to surrounding rice paddies.
Pick your favoruite photography destination!
The climate is extremely humid and moist, resulting in rapid and dense vegetation growth. While this creates lush scenery, it allows birds to disperse widely rather than congregating in smaller, predictable areas. The constant sound of running water also makes it difficult to hear the calls of smaller birds, further complicating efforts to locate them. In urban and semi-urban areas, land is almost entirely given over to residential development. Waterways are noticeably polluted, and it is not uncommon to see waterbirds perched on floating islands of rubbish. Overall, it is far from a perfect location for wildlife photography.
Don’t get me wrong — I still thoroughly enjoyed the trip for many reasons, one of them being the exposure to an entirely new range of species. In Australia, it often takes me around six months to encounter a new bird, so discovering 30 new species during a short stay in Bali was genuinely exciting. I wasn’t able to photograph every species I saw, so I’ll be sharing only those I managed to capture through the lens.
There won’t be any breathtaking images in this article, and I was perfectly ready for that. Over the years, I average about one truly good image per month, each requiring hours of patient work. In Bali, my time was limited and weather conditions far from ideal, so I didn’t expect miracles. This post is really about celebrating the incredible variety of new birds I encountered, learning more about them, and observing their behaviours — not producing gallery-worthy shots.
Javan Pond-Heron
A stocky heron often seen stalking rice paddies and wetlands, changing from plain brown to striking chestnut and white during the breeding season.
Interesting fact: Outside the breeding season it looks so different that it’s often mistaken for a completely different species.
Frequently seen in rice fields, it was the very first bird I managed to photograph.
White-breasted Waterhen
A bold, dark waterbird with a crisp white face and breast, frequently heard before it’s seen.
Interesting fact: Despite its chicken-like appearance, it’s an excellent swimmer and can even dive when threatened.
Another familiar resident of the rice fields, this bird seems to have a healthy population. Despite being rather stealthy, it’s still spotted regularly.
Scaly-breasted Munia
A small finch with a distinctive scalloped pattern across its chest, usually found in grassy areas and farmland.
Interesting fact: These birds are highly social and often feed in tight-knit flocks.
These birds feed on seeds, including rice. Interestingly, eBird removed it from my Australian life list, so I’ve now effectively ‘rediscovered’ it here in Indonesia.
Javan Kingfisher
A stunning kingfisher with a turquoise body and heavy red bill, endemic to Java and Bali.
Interesting fact: Unlike many kingfishers, it often hunts insects and small reptiles away from water.
It was one of the birds I most wanted to capture, but its vibrant colours only came alive in sunlight — which I sadly lacked. And every time I aimed my camera, I was always just a split second too late.
Japanese Sparrowhawk
A compact raptor with sharp features and powerful wings, typically seen darting through forest edges.
Interesting fact: It’s a long-distance migrant, travelling from northern Asia to Indonesia during the non-breeding season.
A tiny raptor, yet in shape and markings it closely resembles the Australian Brown Goshawk.
Ornate Sunbird
A tiny, energetic bird with iridescent colours that shimmer in the sunlight, especially in males.
Interesting fact: Its curved bill is perfectly adapted for feeding on nectar, making it an important pollinator.
I was delighted to spot these birds, but unfortunately their favourite perches were too high and too distant to photograph.
Yellow Bittern
A small, secretive heron with warm yellow-brown plumage, often hidden among reeds.
Interesting fact: When alarmed, it freezes with its bill pointed upwards, blending almost perfectly with surrounding vegetation.
Perhaps this was my rarest find. Given the secretive nature of bitterns, it felt like beginner’s luck to actually spot one.
Bar-winged Prinia
A lively, grey-brown songbird commonly seen flitting through shrubs and open woodland.
Interesting fact: Its call is far more noticeable than its appearance, often giving away its location.
These birds are constantly active among the reeds, making clear views nearly impossible even though their calls are heard all the time.
Eurasian Sparrow
A familiar urban bird with brown, black and white markings, thriving around villages and towns.
Interesting fact: It’s one of the most widely distributed birds in the world, closely associated with human settlement.
One more bird that pretty much everyone knows.
Black-crowned Night Heron
A stocky heron with a glossy black cap and red eyes, usually active at dusk and night.
Interesting fact: During the day, it often roosts in large groups, sometimes surprisingly close to busy human areas.
It was a real pleasure to spot these nocturnal birds.
Javan Munia
A small finch with rich brown plumage and a thick bluish bill, common in grasslands and rice fields.
Interesting fact: It feeds mainly on grass seeds, making it a frequent companion to agricultural landscapes.
Large, noisy flocks patrolled the rice fields, making it difficult to approach without them taking flight.
Purple Heron
A tall, elegant heron with elongated neck and subtle purple tones, favouring wetlands and marshes.
Interesting fact: It is more slender and stealthy than the Grey Heron, often hunting while concealed in reeds.
This was another species I was eager to photograph. At first, it was far beyond the reach of my 800mm lens, but thankfully the rain drove them closer to the edges of the nearby mangroves. Extremely cautious of any movement, this bird kept me waiting for 40 minutes before it finally felt comfortable enough to start preening its feathers.
Racket-tailed Treepie
A striking black bird with long tail feathers ending in racket-shaped tips.
Interesting fact: It’s highly intelligent and curious, sometimes approaching people to inspect shiny objects.
These birds were hilarious to watch as they leapt into the air to catch prey, their long tails trailing behind with a slight, comical delay
Javan Myna
A dark, glossy starling with bright yellow facial skin and legs, commonly seen in open country and towns.
Interesting fact: It’s an excellent mimic and can copy a wide range of sounds, including human speech.
As with any other myna, these birds are firmly established, though nine times out of ten they choose perches that are far too high for a decent shot.
Plantain Squirrel
One of Bali’s most commonly seen squirrels, the plantain squirrel is a small, quick-moving tree dweller with a reddish belly and a bold black-and-white stripe along its side. It’s often spotted darting through gardens, temples and forest edges, rarely sitting still for long.
Funny fact: plantain squirrels have a habit of scolding anything they don’t trust — including photographers — with a rapid series of sharp chirps, as if loudly complaining about being photographed without permission.
Long-tailed Macaque
A medium-sized, agile monkey with a distinctive long tail and expressive face, often grey-brown in colour. They are extremely common in Bali’s forests, temples, and tourist areas.
Interesting fact: They are called “crab-eating macaques” because, in the wild, they sometimes catch and eat small crabs in mangrove areas.
These monkeys can be quite annoying, as they’re notorious for stealing anything that isn’t properly secured. I was naïve enough to think I could grab a photo with one — until I heard my backpack being unzipped.
I’d love to hear from you! Have you ever visited Bali and explored its wildlife? Which bird was your favourite encounter on the island? And among the species I’ve shared in this post, which one catches your eye the most? Drop a comment below and let’s share our love for these incredible creatures.
Tiny but Mighty – The “Tiny Ninja” of Wetlands. Since it is one of the smallest bittern species in the world, the Australian Little Bittern can be incredibly stealthy! Their small size (about the size of a pigeon) and excellent camouflage make them almost invisible when they’re standing still in the reeds. If you spot one, it’s usually because it wants to be spotted—otherwise, it’s like trying to find a needle in a haystack.
The “Ninja” Stance. When this bird feels threatened, it strikes the most hilarious stance. Imagine a stiff, frozen, upright position with their long neck retracted like a turtle trying to hide in its shell. It’s their best attempt at being “invisible”. When they do this, they look like they’ve turned into a piece of bamboo rather than a bird—definitely a case of “blending in” taken to the extreme!
Peek-a-boo. Unlike some other birds that have to announce their presence with loud calls, Little Bitterns prefer the art of silent stalking. They often give the impression of playing a massive game of “peek-a-boo” with anyone trying to photograph them. They might stare at you from behind a reed for a few moments, and just when you think you’ve got the perfect shot, they disappear into the reeds—like a bird-sized magician pulling off a vanishing act.
Fish-Finding Masters. Little Bitterns are known for being expert fish hunters, standing motionless for long periods before striking. But they don’t always succeed. Occasionally, they miss their target and end up doing a dramatic “oops” moment. The fish might end up wriggling away or even flipping out of the bird’s beak in an awkward display of nature’s comedy.
A Surprising Soundtrack. Most of the time, this bird is pretty quiet, but when it does vocalize, it has a sound that is anything but graceful. Imagine a weird, raspy “tok-tok-tok” noise that sounds like someone trying to imitate a drum roll with no rhythm. Definitely not the majestic sound you’d expect from such a sleek hunter!
They’re Pretty Shy. The Australian Little Bittern is a solitary and shy bird, avoiding human interaction as much as possible. If you’re out photographing them, you may find yourself getting close to the bird… only for it to suddenly fly off in the most awkward, flapping, and ungraceful way. It’s like they’re embarrassed to be seen!
A Popular Wetland — or Just Well Watched?
Sandy Camp Wetlands is consistently ranked among the top ten birding destinations in Brisbane by number of species recorded. I’ve often wondered whether this is because every bird truly loves the place, or simply because so many people visit it that more species are inevitably discovered.
The Bittern Conspiracy Theory
I tend to lean toward a mild conspiracy theory: secretive species like bitterns are probably present in most suitable habitats, but they are only found in places where there are many eyes watching.
When eBird Sets the Alarm
This time, the birding community was set alight by repeated eBird reports of Australian Little Bitterns. Whenever this happens, dozens of birdwatchers turn up, all hoping for a glimpse of a rare bird. In my case, I had never seen this species before.
Ninety Minutes for Five Seconds
On my first visit, I waited for an hour and a half before the bird suddenly burst out of the reeds and flew toward its feeding area. Ninety minutes of waiting for about five seconds of actual observation. That is 1:1000 ratio.
Little Bittern’sbig secret
The next day was much the same. After about an hour, someone finally spotted a bittern at the edge of the reeds—and this time it was a juvenile. The little secret was out.
Can you spot a second baby in the background?
Masters of Disappearing
Bitterns are famously elusive, so it came as no surprise when we later saw one lift off from the ground and fly back toward the nesting area. It could have been standing there in the open the whole time, completely exposed, yet invisible to us.
Waiting for the Perfect Flight Shot
Getting an action photo meant capturing the bird in flight, so nobody was particularly happy with their results and everyone kept waiting. Eventually, the bird flew out and landed in a small patch where the grass was taller than the bird itself.
Patience Rewarded at Last
More waiting followed, until it finally reappeared in a different spot, offering clear views to everyone. An unexpected reward after a long game of patience.
Positioning for the Moment
I noticed signs that the bird might take flight again and positioned myself where I could track it through natural obstacles like shrubs and trees. It didn’t take long. When it flew, I pressed the shutter, and the autofocus didn’t let me down. I ended up with a full sequence of frames, capturing every position of the wings.
My personal favourite image is below. Little bittern — big success.
Your Bittern Stories
Let me know in the comments below: what has your experience with bitterns been like?
