wildlife – the life of a nature photographer

Special Places

Camping, Canoeing, Forest, Water, Wildlife

Tuesday, December 6th, 2022

The stretch of North Saskatchewan River between Rocky Mountain House and Drayton Valley is not spectacular. There are no mountains, no waterfalls, no deserts, no open vistas. It is a pretty standard river flowing through your average mixed boreal forest. I don’t know of any endangered species in the area. There is oil under the ground.

I first canoed this section of river in 2016, and I remember it being a peaceful and quiet trip. At one campsite we heard wolves howling nearby. This summer I led another trip down this section, and every day and every night we could hear the hum of oil wells and the rumble of trucks in the distance. There was no silence to be found. It was distressing to me and to the students on the trip – we didn’t get our peaceful experience of nature. It’s kind of selfish. I want peace and quiet, but Alberta workers need a livelyhood and the world needs oil and gas, especially with winter coming and the situation in Europe.

But it’s not just me that wants peace and quiet for a week on the river. There are many animals that call this place home. And home is getting stressful. Right now COP15, the UN Biodiversity Conference, is happening in Montreal. Wildlife populations worldwide have fallen 69% since 1970. That is terrifying. Is this encroachment of noise and development the cause? I don’t think we can draw a direct line – there are many things happening that affect the biosphere from climate change, to air pollution, to microplastics, and yes, noise pollution. But loss of habitat seems to be a primary driver of this decline and I can say for certain that the habitat around the North Saskatchewan River is less appealing to me than it was a short six years ago.

So how do we protect areas that are not spectacular? I can’t point to any reason that we should protect this area in particular. Except that I have been here and I love it. This place that started out as not very memorable has become special to me. My only hope for saving these wild or previously wild places is finding more people that find them special – people that value the things that we are losing. And people don’t value things they don’t experience in some way. So my small part in protecting these places is letting people experience them. And the more people that experience and value these things, the more chance we have of saving them. And maybe even go beyond saving to helping them. I want the future to be aspirational and not just trying to avoid one disaster after the next.

Here are a few more photos of this section of river. What’s your special place that is not spectacular?

Muskox

Tundra, Wildlife

Sunday, July 7th, 2019

A large muskox on the banks of the Hood River, Nunavut

My first glimpse of a muskox was from a canoe on the Hood River. There was a herd of dark specks far away on the gentle slope of the riverbank near the Wright River confluence. We pulled over, went up on shore, and watched them for a while. They were very far away and I don’t know if they ever noticed us.

Some of the rest of the herd peering at the strange out-of-place creatures floating on the water.

The second time we saw them, we had pulled to the side of the river to check out a promising sandy bank with signs of wolves. At first it looked like the wolves hadn’t been there for a while – the signs were all old. And then, as we were taking one last look around, large white wolf exploded out of the ground just a few feet in front of us. It bounded away until it reached a ridge where it could look back at us and then it started howling. As it was running up the hill, we noticed a herd of muskox grazing on the same ridge. The muskox were keeping an eye on the wolf, but didn’t look too worried.

These first few photos are from the third time we saw them. We were canoeing through a technical part of the river with lots of rocks, waves, and fast water. They were watching us from high above on a gravel bank, but quite close. We found an eddy (a calmer section of water below something blocking the current) by the shore and watched them for a while from the canoes. The wind was blowing through their long hair and occasionally blowing away parts of their lighter-colored winter coats. Later on in the summer I’d find a lot of this this qiviut (muskox wool) snagged on birch and willow around MacKay Lake. It is one of the warmest, softest, and most expensive fibers you can get.

Throughout the summer I saw quite a few muskox, both lone bulls and herds. When a bull gets too uppity and challenges the leadership, they can get kicked out of a herd. We saw a few of these lone bulls roaming around. Once, near MacKay Lake, we were at a research site sampling birch shrubs when we saw something moving on the horizon. Worrying it was a grizzly, we got everyone’s attention and got into a group. We then watched as a bull muskox lumbered towards us. It disappeared into a gully so we got up on a large rock to get a better view. When it reappeared, it briefly stopped, looked at us, and then kept coming closer. It seemed curious, trying to figure out what we were. It came close enough that we could watch it’s nose dripping and hear it breathing. At this point it was close enough that we were getting a bit nervous, and one of us moved. That was enough for it to turn and run, long hair billowing majestically behind it. That was a ideal reaction – if they start rubbing their front leg against their face, then you know you’re in trouble.

The largest herd we saw was more than 20 muskoxen on the shores of MacKay Lake. That was also when I got to hear the most impressive animal noise I’ve ever heard. As we were floating closer in our canoes, the dominant bull let out what can only be described as a rumble that I could feel as much as hear.

In the 1800s, muskox were almost extinct. They had been hunted by whalers, fur traders, explorers, and Inuit until there were almost none left. They were a good source of meat and fur, and were easy to hunt. Their defensive reaction is to line up in front of their young and charge if anything attacks. While that’s a great defense against wolves, it is a very poor defense against rifles. In 1917, the government of Canada banned hunting muskox, and in 1927, created the Thelon Game Sanctuary to help muskox populations recover. Now muskox populations are rising fast while the caribou populations are plummeting.

In 1897, Charles “Buffalo” Jones, a rich American, took it upon himself to go up north and lasso some young muskox to take back down south and breed in captivity. He saw it as his God-given duty to “have dominion over every living thing”. He went up north, built a cabin by Great Slave Lake to spend the winter in, and the next year found a herd out on the tundra. Against the wishes of the local people, he lassoed four calves and started to lead them south. One morning he woke up to find the four calves with their throats slit, with the knife left next to them. His mistake was a classic one – barging in without any understanding or respect. He sort of got the message and left the muskox alone, only to head out to an island in the Bering Sea to try to establish a breeding farm for Silver Foxes. His full story is maddening, fascinating, impressive, and ridiculous. This is a quick version.

Wildlife Photography Class

Classes, Wildlife

Wednesday, June 19th, 2019

Canoeing by a grizzly bear near Jolly Lake in the Northwest Territories. Check out the claws on this guy, which let him dig up plant roots and arctic ground squirrels.

On June 29th, I’ll be teaching a wildlife photography class at the Edmonton Valley Zoo. It will be a fun day full of learning, taking photos, and enjoying the animals at the zoo. Register at the city of Edmonton’s website:
https://movelearnplay.edmonton.ca/COE/public/booking/CourseDetails/647871. Hope to see you there!

If you have any questions, you can send me an email at joel.koop@gmail.com and I’d be happy to answer them (Although I will be gone from June 23rd to 27th on the Athabasca River, and I don’t know if I’ll have much cell service).

Last Caribou in the Hood?

Camping, Canoeing, Tundra, Wildlife

Sunday, February 3rd, 2019

If we’d done this trip twenty years ago there’s a good chance we’d have canoed through herds of thousands of caribou. The north is peppered with stories of watching thousands of caribou stream past for hours, but not recently (at least in this part of the arctic). The Hood River is in the Bathurst Caribou range – it actually flows right through the traditional calving grounds, although those may be changing a bit too. We were hoping to see caribou on this trip, but we knew the chances of seeing a large herd was small. In 1986 the Bathurst herd was around 500,000 caribou, in 2015 it was 20,000 and today it is 8,200 (source).

In late June we pulled our canoes over the last bit of ice on Esker Lake. We got to the end of Esker Lake and camped on a large point of sand covered with Mountain Aven (white flowers with a yellow center). Although it was a lot of work hauling our gear up the sandy bank, the camping spot was spectacular. After camp was set up, supper cooked and everyone fed, most people headed to bed. I was tired, but I couldn’t pass up a short hike. As I walked up the sandy ridge (I don’t actually think it was an esker – it was too large of a sandy area) I admired the large ice-covered delta where a small river flowed out into a bay on the lake. I got to a high point and sat down to appreciate the view. Then I spotted something moving.

There was a lone caribou picking its way over the ice of the delta. I watched for a while – it was slowly getting closer to our camp. I’d heard about someone holding up their arms too look like caribou horns so caribou wouldn’t be scared of them and I thought I’d try it even though the caribou was still at least 500m away. I stood up and put my arms up. I saw it turn its head towards me and pause. And then it started running – towards me!

I was surprised, but I kept my hands up as much as I could while still snapping a couple pictures. The caribou ran across the delta, right in between the tents in our camp and up the ridge towards me. It got really close and I couldn’t resist – I dropped my arms to take some photos. And the caribou stopped. I’d lost my antlers and now it didn’t know what to make of me. It studied me for a minute, tilted its head this way and that, and eventually decided that I wasn’t a caribou. I may be anthropomorphizing, but that was the saddest caribou I could imagine trotting away from me. It went over a rise and disappeared.

I felt so sorry for that lonely guy. He looked so hopeful for a friend and I’d let him down.

Subjects and Interest in Wildlife Photography

Composition, Photo of the Day, Wildlife

Sunday, February 28th, 2016

A wolf is one of those reclusive and rare animals that is not often seen around here. So when I got a chance to spend a few minutes with this wolf in Jasper, I was very excited. It was watchful and curious, but most of all it was very purposeful – it had somewhere to be.

I’ve debated posting this picture for a while. I think I’m a fairly tough critic of my own photos, and I don’t think this is an amazing photo. I think it’s okay. And I don’t like posting okay photos. I’d like to be known as a really good photographer, not an okay photographer. But the kid in me says “IT’S A WOLF!!! I SAW A WOLF!!!!” And that’s hard to discount.

While an interesting subject helps a photo, I don’t think it can make a photo on its own. I still think it has to have some appealing aesthetic value beyond an interesting subject to be a good photo. This creates a bit of a conundrum for the wildlife photographer in me. While I have taken thousands of wildlife photos, I generally have very little control over the backgrounds, the lighting, and the locations of the animals. And I don’t want that control. I want the animals to go about their lives undisturbed by me. I don’t want to force them into new places and to do things that are uncomfortable for them. That kind of behaviour can threaten their lives and make them less likely to reproduce.

Every once in a while, circumstances will align just right (and knowledge of animal behaviour can make this more likely), and I’ll be able to get a good wildlife photo. The more I’m out in the woods, the more this will happen. But for me there is beauty all around – both flora and fauna, and I’m content being a photographer of opportunity. I get to share incredible landscapes with these amazing animals, and I’m thankful for the odd encounter, whether or not I get an good photo.

Invitation — VAAA Gallery Show

Galleries and Shows, Wildlife

Tuesday, August 23rd, 2011

Just a reminder — I have two prints in the VAAA Open Photo Competition. It is this Thursday, August 25, 6-8pm at the Kasaa Gallery in the basement of the Northern Alberta Jubilee Auditorium ( 11455 – 87 Avenue ). I would love it if you stop by. There will be drinks, snacks, and a very wide variety of photographic styles to enjoy. All the artists will be there, and the results of the competition will be announced.

The show will continue until October 2nd, if you can’t make it for the opening.

Come take a look!

Wildlife and Wedding Photography

Composition, Forest, Photo of the Day, Wildlife

Friday, August 12th, 2011

When you see an elk, what do you do? You stop and take a photo of course. And if the elk stays there, you get closer. After all, wasn’t it Robert Capa who said, “If your pictures aren’t good enough, you aren’t close enough.”?

But for some reason your brain starts to throw up little red flags. Wait a minute, you also want context — the animal acting in its habitat. And maybe you don’t want a photo of an elk eyeball, maybe you want the whole elk. And anyway, isn’t it bad for animals to get accustomed to people? And dangerous for the people?

And then, for some strange reason, you start to think of photographing weddings, of posing and of lighting. Direct evening light is pretty good — it’s warm and lends definition to shapes, but what if you backlight this? That would wash it out and give it a dream-like quality. But animals are not as cooperative as people who hire you to take their photos. You have to do the moving, and there’s no adding light. You know that flash would bother this elk and disrupt his feeding, possibly making him aggressive.

So you do the moving, far enough away that the animal is not disturbed. You wait for the animal to move into a position that works, you get the sun at just the right angle, and you get a photo. You don’t know if it’s a good photo or a great photo, but you’re pretty sure it’s not a bad photo. And that is satisfying.

Doe-Eyed

Photo of the Day, Wildlife

Monday, June 27th, 2011

Taken in Waterton National Park.

A Bear’s Life

Photo of the Day, Wildlife

Friday, June 17th, 2011

If you’ve ever seen bears going about their lives, you have to respect them. The ease with which they turn over massive stones to search for grubs, the speed at which they can get across a mountain valley, the length of their claws — it all inspires respect. But they are not the fearsome predators they’re often made out to be. In fact, they pretty much ignore people when possible. They’re very focused on eating, much of which turns out to be grass and leaves.

I got the privilege of watching a few bear families on this trip, and though I’m not normally a wildlife photographer, I have to admit there’s a certain thrill to observing and photographing animals. Here’s a black bear mother and cub.

Beaver Pond

Photo of the Day, Water, Wildlife

Friday, April 29th, 2011

I find wildlife photography difficult — not necessarily the photographing of an animal, but the photographing of an animal artistically. I’ve been watching these beavers (Castor canadensis) doing all sorts of interesting things over the last couple of weeks. I’ve watched them chew through trees, drag them down to the water, talk to each other, slap their tails on the water, and all sorts of beaver behaviour. But photos of these fascinating activities often end up as a standard photo of a beaver. Even in beautiful evening light, a lot of shots seem to be average or only mildly interesting shots.

I’ve been trying to challenge myself to take an artistic wildlife photo. To mix my landscape aesthetic with animal subjects. This is what I’ve come up with so far. This beaver created some beautiful sunset reflections in his pond for me.