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.
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!
For me, the story started in 2021, when a single Semipalmated Plover quietly rewrote Australian birding history. This small, compact shorebird — a species that breeds in the Arctic and typically migrates between North and South America — had somehow crossed the Pacific and arrived in Australia. Not as part of a flock. Not as one of many vagrants. But as the only individual of its kind in the entire country.
Interesting facts
Semipalmated Means Partly Webbed. Unlike many other plovers, this species has partial webbing between its toes. The name “semipalmated” literally refers to these small webs, which likely help it move efficiently across soft mud and wet sand — a subtle but clever adaptation for life on tidal flats.
An Arctic Breeder. Semipalmated plovers nest in the high Arctic tundra, often on sparsely vegetated gravel ridges. Their nests are simple scrapes in the ground, sometimes lined with tiny pebbles or bits of lichen — beautifully camouflaged against the stark landscape.
A Marathon Migrant. This bird undertakes long migratory journeys between Arctic breeding grounds and wintering areas that can extend as far south as Brazil. Some individuals cross the Gulf of Mexico in a single flight — an extraordinary feat for a bird barely 18 cm long.
The Classic “Run-Stop-Peck” Style. If you’ve photographed them feeding, you’ve probably noticed the signature plover technique: quick sprint, abrupt stop, sudden peck at prey. They rely heavily on vision, scanning for tiny invertebrates — marine worms, crustaceans, and insects — before darting in with precision.
A Bold Breeding Look. In breeding plumage, the semipalmated plover has: A crisp white belly, brown upperparts, a single bold black breast band, a distinctive orange-and-black bill, bright orange legs. The strong facial pattern — dark mask, white forehead, and sharp contrast lines — makes them especially photogenic, particularly in clean coastal light.
Masters of Distraction. When predators approach the nest, adults may perform a dramatic “broken-wing display”, fluttering along the ground as if injured to lure threats away from their eggs or chicks. It’s a theatrical and effective survival strategy.
A Bird That Rewrote Australian Records
For several consecutive years, a single Semipalmated Plover quietly rewrote Australian birding history.
A Hemisphere Off Course
This small Arctic-breeding shorebird — a species normally found migrating between North and South America — somehow crossed the Pacific and arrived in Australia. Not as part of a flock. Not as one of many vagrants. But as the only individual of its kind in the entire country. And it chose a wetland five minutes from my home.
A Navigational Error of Epic Scale
For a bird that typically nests on the tundra of northern Canada and winters along the coasts of the Americas, Australia is wildly off-course. Its presence here was the result of navigational error on a staggering scale — a migration gone astray by thousands of kilometres. Yet there it was: feeding calmly along the muddy margins, running, stopping, pecking, as though it had always belonged. For several years in a row, it returned.
Fidelity in a Foreign Land
That detail is perhaps the most astonishing of all. Vagrant birds appear unexpectedly, often briefly, then vanish. But this individual showed site fidelity to a place half a world away from its normal range. It survived. It navigated. It came back.
A Global Rarity on My Local Patch
From a photographer’s perspective, the experience felt almost surreal. A species that birders in Australia could only dream of — normally requiring a trip to the Arctic or the Americas — was suddenly part of my local patch. No airport. No expedition. Just a short walk from home.
When a Mistake Becomes a Gift
There’s something deeply humbling about that. Migration is one of nature’s great feats of precision — and occasionally, of profound error. This bird’s journey was likely the result of a misaligned compass, weather displacement, or a young bird imprinting on the wrong migratory route. Yet what began as a mistake became a gift: an opportunity to observe and photograph rarest species in the country far beyond its expected world.
Join the Conversation
Encounters like this remind us why we watch birds in the first place — because at any moment, the unexpected can step quietly into view. Have you ever experienced a rare visitor on your local patch? Or witnessed a migration moment that stopped you in your tracks?
I’d love to hear your thoughts.Leave a comment below and share your experiences, reflections, or questions about this remarkable Semipalmated Plover. Your stories and insights are part of what make the birding and nature photography community so special — and I’m always keen to continue the conversation.
While I set out with a single goal — to photograph the lilac hues of breeding cattle egrets — it quickly became clear that I was witnessing something far richer. The scenes unfolding around me offered enough material for an entire project: a visual record of the full life cycle of the cattle egret.
The cattle egret (Bubulcus ibis) is a migratory bird best known for its close association with livestock. It is often seen following cattle and other grazing animals, capitalising on insects disturbed by their movement. What follows is an overview of its remarkable life cycle, much of which I was fortunate enough to observe firsthand.
1. Egg Stage
Breeding: Cattle egrets typically breed in large colonies, nesting in trees, shrubs or reed beds, usually close to water. In Australia, breeding often coincides with the wet season, when food is abundant.
During the breeding season, cattle egrets undergo a dramatic transformation. Their usually understated white plumage is enlivened by soft lilac tones, while long plumes on the head, neck and back are raised and fluffed during elaborate courtship displays. At times, the birds resemble miniature birds-of-paradise, posturing and preening as they advertise their fitness to potential mates.
These displays are followed by brief but decisive mating interactions, often taking place on the nesting platform or nearby branches. Though the act itself is quick, it marks the beginning of a tightly coordinated partnership, with both birds sharing nesting, incubation and chick-rearing duties.
Even birds-of-paradise would envy these plumes
Eggs: The female lays between two and five eggs per clutch. The eggs are typically pale blue to greenish in colour.
Incubation: Both parents share incubation duties, taking turns on the nest. This stage lasts around 21–25 days before the chicks hatch.
Although the chicks were never visible from my vantage point, concealed deep within the nests, their voices carried far. Their insistent begging transformed the colony into a constant chorus long before any young birds could be seen.
2. Chick Stage
Hatching: Newly hatched chicks are blind and covered in soft down. Completely dependent on their parents, they rely on them for warmth, protection and food.
Feeding: Adults feed their young a steady diet of insects, small vertebrates and other invertebrates gathered while foraging.
The colony I observed raised an estimated 25–30 chicks this season. Families ranged from one to three chicks, and the more mouths to feed, the more chaotic the process became. To receive food, a chick must grasp an adult’s beak — no easy task when the nest is perched on papyrus. Unlike sturdy tree branches, papyrus offers little stability. Picture one bird struggling to balance, then add two squabbling chicks lunging for food. In one case, a parent with three hungry offsprings made a hasty retreat when the situation became untenable.
Time to retreat!
Growth: Over the next three to four weeks, the chicks grow rapidly. Their eyes open, feathers develop, and they become increasingly active within the nest.
Once they are large enough to hop from one papyrus stalk to the next, the chicks begin venturing out while waiting to be fed. And there is plenty of waiting involved. This downtime gives siblings ample opportunity to play, squabble, preen and occasionally irritate one another.
Where are you, mum?The loudest voice in the choir
Fledging: At around four to five weeks of age, young egrets take their first flights. Even then, they may continue to rely on their parents for food and guidance.
3. Juvenile Stage
Independence: After fledging, juveniles gradually learn to forage on their own, often shadowing adults as they refine their skills.
Social structure: Young cattle egrets tend to remain in family groups or loose colonies, benefiting from safety in numbers.
Maturation: By about six months, juveniles reach full physical size. Their adult white plumage, often with subtle yellowish tones, develops around this time.
As the weeks passed, I noticed a fascinating shift within the colony. More and more young birds were waiting outside their nests for their parents, while the adults’ vibrant breeding colours began to fade. At this stage, the most reliable distinguishing feature was the beak: adults sported yellow beaks, while juveniles retained black ones. Can you spot the adult bird in the image below?
4. Adult Stage
Breeding: At roughly one year of age, cattle egrets are ready to breed. During the breeding season, adults — particularly males — once again develop striking yellow to orange colouring on the head, neck and back, standing in vivid contrast to their white plumage. And so the cycle repeats.
Lifespan: In the wild, cattle egrets can live for 10–15 years, though many face threats from predation and increasing human pressures.
In this article, I’m excited to share my recent encounter with one of Australia’s most elusive raptors — the Letter-winged kite. Before I dive into the story of that unforgettable sighting, let’s start with some fascinating facts about this rare and remarkable bird.
Interesting facts
World’s only nocturnal raptor: The Letter-winged kite (Elanus scriptus) is a true night hunter, the only bird of prey in the world that consistently hunts exclusively after dark, rather than just occasionally being seen at night.
Endemic to Australia: This species occurs nowhere else, inhabiting the arid and semi-arid inland regions of the continent.
Distinctive wing markings: Bold black “letter-shaped” markings on the underside of the wings make the species unmistakable in flight.
Exceptional hearing: Like owls, Letter-winged kites rely heavily on sound to locate prey in complete darkness.
Silent flight: Soft-edged feathers allow near-silent flight, giving them a major advantage when hunting rodents.
Specialist mouse hunters: Mice form the bulk of their diet, with the species closely tied to rodent population cycles.
Boom-and-bust population cycles: Numbers increase rapidly during mouse plagues following good rainfall, then decline sharply as prey becomes scarce.
Opportunistic breeding: Breeding occurs only when food is abundant, and multiple broods may be raised in favourable seasons.
Daytime communal roosting: Birds roost quietly in trees during the day, often in loose groups.
Scarce and seldom seen: In dry years, the population is estimated at only 1,000–2,000 mature individuals, and their nomadic movements make encounters unpredictable.
Discovering the Letter-Winged Kite
One afternoon, walking home through an area where Black-shouldered kites are usually seen, something darker caught my eye. It didn’t take long before the bird took flight, revealing the striking black lines across the underside of its wings — not the dark wingtips I was used to.
A Letter-winged kite! My heart raced. My camera wasn’t with me, and I knew I had to act fast. It took an hour and a half, trekking through the desert heat, to grab my gear and return — all the while hoping the bird hadn’t disappeared. Unbelievably, it was still there.
Slowly, I approached, snapping photos and closing the distance a few metres at a time, careful not to startle it. Later, it was mobbed by crows and, almost theatrically, displayed its signature underwing “letter” again — this time for the camera.
The photos I’m sharing aren’t works of art, but they capture the sheer luck of witnessing one of Australia’s rarest nocturnal raptors. Perhaps my first — and only — Letter-winged kite sighting.
For anyone unfamiliar with the Letter-winged kite, it’s hard to overstate just how rare this bird is. To put that rarity into perspective, there are only around 500 recorded observations on eBird across all time. For a species that ranges over such a large part of inland Australia, that number is remarkably small and highlights just how seldom these birds are encountered, let alone photographed. Many seasoned birders will go their entire lives without seeing one in the wild.
The map of this year’s observations tells the story at a glance. Overall sightings are few, widely scattered, and largely confined to remote inland regions, reflecting the kite’s nomadic nature and highly specialised habitat requirements. Each record represents not just a rare bird, but a fleeting moment when rainfall, prey abundance and timing have aligned just right. For a wildlife photographer, encountering a Letter-winged kite is less about planning and more about sheer luck—and that’s what makes every sighting, and every photograph, so special.
Have you ever encountered a Letter-winged kite? Tell me in the comments below where you saw it!
About six years ago, when I first discovered a cattle egret colony nesting in papyrus right next to my house, I saw a rare opportunity. With such close access, I decided to focus on photographing the birds in their breeding blush—the reddish or pinkish coloration that appears on certain parts of the plumage during the breeding season.
First Attempts at the Breeding Blush
This colouring typically develops on the face, throat and breast of males, and occasionally females, though it is most pronounced in males. One image from that first year became my strongest photograph of the species. You can find it in the story linked here.
Learning About the Lilac Phase
What I later learned, however, was that cattle egrets can display an even more striking and fleeting plumage condition. At the peak of the breeding season, the base of the bill, lores, orbital rings, and eyes can turn a vivid lilac-blue. These colours may last only a few days, making the condition rare and difficult to photograph. “Challenge accepted,” I thought, already beginning to mentally frame it as a photographic project.
Missing the Moment
I made annual attempts to observe the egrets, but it took a couple of years to realise that I was consistently missing this brief window and needed to begin my observations much earlier.
At the end of 2025, I returned to the egret colony with renewed determination.
Gaining Access to the Canopy
As the years passed, the papyrus grew ever taller, and my original method—using a three-metre A-frame ladder to reach the top of the colony—was no longer workable. A five-metre ladder was now required, and the only practical option was to lean it against a nearby tree.
I visited the site both in the morning and afternoon to study the direction and quality of light, eventually narrowing my options to several suitable trees. This is what the setup looked like. The position gave me access to the canopy and clear views into the daily life of the colony.
Papyrus plantation
This is what it looked like from the outside. No sign of egrets!
My setup
This is how I was spending best time of my day.
A Colony at Many Stages
It soon became apparent that the birds were at very different stages of breeding. Some were mating, while others already had chicks begging for food. As a result, some birds were only just developing breeding plumage, while others were likely already moulting. It is possible that this staggered breeding reflects an adaptive strategy, potentially reducing the risk of losing the entire breeding season to a single catastrophic event, such as a cyclone or other environmental disturbance.
Patience in the Field
At any given day, I could usually see only a single bird that matched my criteria—and because individuals didn’t remain in the colony continuously, this involved a lot of waiting.
Success at Last
This time, I spent almost every morning in the tree for several weeks, from late December through to February. I’m happy to report that I believe I achieved my goal. I managed to find several birds showing the lilac-blue colouration I was hoping for.
An Unexpected International Chapter
Interestingly, I also encountered a couple of particularly bright individuals while photographing in Indonesia, turning this project into an unexpectedly international one. Below are the results of my efforts.
Cattle Egret in Breeding Blush, Rice Fields of Indonesia
What Influences the Colouration
While working on this series, I also learned that this colouration is not only extremely short-lived, but can vary greatly depending on diet, environment and the hormonal condition of each individual bird. In some cases, it may be subtle—or entirely absent.
Looking Ahead
I’ll continue observing this colony in the hope that one day I’ll photograph an even brighter individual.
Your Experiences in the Field
Let me know in the comments below — have you had any luck photographing lilac cattle egrets? Have you ever seen them an even brighter blue?
