December storms raged along the California coast to close out 2005. New Years morning brought winds strong enough to make my neighbor's tall palm tree sway back and forth like a giant dust mop. About an hour later, a huge branch from another tree went AWOL, taking a power line with it - and I had no electricity for two days. This was only an inconvenience for me.

But for birds wintering on open ocean, the big storms made it impossible to find plankton and small invertebrates to eat. Faced with starvation, red phalaropes moved into the San Francisco Bay Area to shelter and feed. This handed bird watchers a rare chance to see these ocean-going birds.

I got some tips on where they were from the local birdwatchers' email list. A couple days after Christmas, I loaded up the EOS 1D mark II camera, 500mm lens, teleconverters, and big tripod, and went to find them.

The first person I saw at Mountain View's Crittenden Marsh was another photographer, carrying an even bigger, white 600mm lens on a tripod over his shoulder. He confirmed that yes, there were at least five phalaropes towards the end of the inlet. I set up my camera and walked on.

Low-angle winter sun is your friend. Its warm colors and soft shadows last a long time, especially on cloudy days. I was a little late for sunrise warmth, but storm clouds diffused and softened the light. Winter can be monochromatic in the mountains, but it's green along the California coast. I looked for colors and contrast, and got lucky when a group of American white pelicans flew into my landscape.

Spotting wildlife on the way there
I find it hard to be single-minded about my wild subjects, even the rare ones like red phalaropes. So I always have the camera ready. Most wildlife wear streaks, spots or patterns in earth tones, making them hard to spot. (This keeps them from being eaten.) To find them, I look for the bright parts - eyes, bills or teeth, legs, feet. I also look for movement - leaves, branches, anything that should be still, but isn't. In winter, sparrows forage in flocks on the bare bushes, so the movement's pretty obvious. Even with your longest lens, you'll want to come close to make the bird large in your picture. When you're within 25 feet or so, most small perching birds spook and take off. You end up with images of the boldest individuals, the ones that fly last.

My first brave bird was a savannah sparrow doing the splits. He was calm enough until I picked up the tripod at less than 25 feet. Then he flew off to eat shoots and seeds somewhere else.

Duck hunting season runs through mid-January near the California coast, so ducks go where nobody shoots at them - to wildlife refuges and local parks. Check your local hunting regulations - they make winter the best season to watch most ducks. I saw scaup, pied-billed, eared and horned grebes, gadwalls, coots, and goldeneyes in Crittenden Marsh, but only the mallards and northern shovelers came close enough for pictures.

The unseen sandpipers
I walked almost to the first breakwater, looked over to my right - and there were the phalaropes. I saw a spot closer to the water with a pretty clear view, and descended the levee. I was well-covered, so I didn't worry about ticks. I bent some of the brush down to give my lens a better view of the birds.

Like many sandpipers, red phalaropes are almost hyperactive. They paddle quickly, scooping their heads underwater to find food. They're used to plankton and prey living in bands of warm water near the ocean's surface. Unlike Wilson's and red-necked phalaropes (a different species), you won't see them swimming tight circles to create a mini-whirlpool that sucks prey to the surface.

Red phalaropes come inland only to breed usually - and they nest near tundra ponds above the Arctic Circle, so you really have to go out of your way to see one. And I was looking at several of them.

I had to wait for a couple to swim close, and even then I needed the 2X teleconverter with the 500mm lens to pull them in. I started with portraits - but as I've said, it's about the behavior, genius. I went for bills dripping water after head-dives, splashes, and full head immersion. Flight shots are tough at 1000mm - the 1D mark II only gives you the center AF sensor, and it doesn't always focus well - and the phalaropes were comfortably interested in food. So I got water images that show typical but interesting behavior.

Finally a northern harrier circled in, chasing away all the other birds. Seems nobody wanted to be the harrier's breakfast. So the phalarope show was over.

Ducks and sparrows
I'd noticed a great egret making slow, precise strides as he hunted, but he never came close. One of the lumps in nearby Stevens Creek turned out to be a ruddy duck. He wasn't afraid, just hungry as he swam towards the bay.

The sparrows came back to eat after the harrier flew off. Youth probably made this juvenile white-crowned sparrow brave enough to stay after his friends left. Photographers are harmless, but some wildlife learn too late that boldness gets you eaten.

I've distilled much of what I've learned photographing wildlife up close into a downloadable eBook. Now you can have my field experience on-call whenever you like with Wildlife: Stealth Approach for an Intimate View. Click for a free preview!

I'm very raucous and loud. I'm smart too. I like hanging out with my friends, sometimes several hundred thousand of them. I'll eat anything I can steal. Who am I?

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