Photographing Seagulls

I love taking photos and whilst on holiday recently, I really wanted to capture an image of the magnificent seabirds that were soaring overhead against the backdrop of a perfect summer sky. I only had my little Panasonic Lumix DMC-TZ8 with me and in the bright sunlight, all I could see on the screen was a reflection of my own face (crinkled with concentration!)

What I lacked in equipment and expertise, I made up for with enthusiasm and perseverance.

I did manage to get a few results that were close to what I hoped for but for every shot like this or this...

... there were plenty more like these:

As well as the problem of trying to anticipate the flight path of the gulls, I also had to make the adjustment for the slight delay in pressing the button on the camera and the picture actually being taken. I wasn't very good at it! Far from getting frustrated, I actually found it stupidly amusing - almost to the point of mild hysteria.

I had intended to delete all of the failed attempts but looking through them made me laugh again (much to my eldest daughter's bemusement). I decided to keep them as a memento of a wonderful day at the  seaside and a reminder that I will never make a living as a wildlife photographer!

If I were to wonder what my elusive feathered subjects were making of my feeble attempts to photograph them,  the expression on this one's face could just hint at an answer.

Silent Sunday

Quasibirdo?

In much the same way as my dad's stamp collecting hobby never quite gained the status of philately, I would never call him an amateur ornithologist - but he does love his garden birds.

It is a bit of a standing joke that my dad will excitedly jump to attention saying "Jilly! Look, Jilly!" to his ever faithful wife as he points out a very ordinary bird exhibiting very ordinary bird behaviour.

Today, however, I have to say his "Jilly! Look, Jilly!" cry was the start of a bit of excitement.

I really wasn't quite sure what I was looking at as he pointed out a young bird in my garden. I grabbed my camera and my long lens and tried to capture a few shots to make sense of what I was seeing. I'm still not completely sure.

Was it some sort of tumour, a strange conjoined twin phenomenon or do you get hunchbacked birds?

The strangely deformed feathered fellow seemed quite happy hopping around the lawn and even posed for a few more photographs.

I've certainly never seen anything like it before in my garden. Any ideas?