A SHOWY SNOWY
This winter there's been a remarkable opportunity for anyone interested in photographing birds or wildlife, if you're willing to take a ride to Rhode Island. A Snowy Owl has spent most of the winter at Sachuest Point National Wildlife Refuge in Middletown, RI. This alone is not big news, as there have been several recent winters with one or more Snowy Owls there, as well as other owls. What makes this one different is that it appears to have little or no fear of people, and actually spends most of its time in the area most trafficked by visitors to the refuge, in the fields adjacent to the parking lot and perched on the roof of the visitors center.
For many people, seeing and photographing such an exiting subject is quite a thrill, but owls and photographers usually don't mix and there always seems to be drama when lots of people are chasing them for a photo. I have to admit that it took several weeks of seeing pictures posted almost daily before I decided it was worth going for it. I've photographed plenty of Snowy Owls, including at Sachuest, and wasn't all that keen rehash the same ground and to be part of the horde that surely would be seen as threatening or harassing the wary visitor. But after seeing multiple pictures of the owl catching mice or voles, or flying directly toward the camera I was convinced I should go check it out. One particular photo sealed the deal for me, a shot of the owl flying just a few feet over the heads of several photographers. This clearly wasn't a typical Snowy!
By the time I made my first visit, in mid-February, the owl was already quite a celebrity. I decided to go on a weekday afternoon, hoping to avoid a big crowd. When I arrived it was sitting in a field about 20 yards from the parking lot, with no less than a dozen cameras trained on it from the edge of the lot. The field was cordoned of with sawhorses and rope, but there was really no need to get any closer. I actually had to stand well back into the parking lot so that I would not be too tight if it took off in flight. Eventually the owl did take off, flying right towards us and up to the roof of the visitors center. It spent a while up there eyeing the surrounding areas, with people walking into the center right beneath it, before settling back down in the same field. I quickly realized that this was almost a perfect situation, and one I've rarely, if ever, encountered in wildlife photography. This owl was going about its normal business, behaving as it would naturally, allowing us to document it all without really impacting it. It was like being the proverbial "fly on the wall".
Having spent more than 20 years as a news photographer, my goal was usually to tell people's stories in pictures. Of course, it wasn't always easy to get exactly what you wanted. Having willing or cooperative subjects and gaining access for key moments were often an issue. There were times when it all came together, but even dealing with people, the ability to photograph something without impacting or influencing it was pretty rare. With wild creatures, especially wary ones like birds of prey, this seemed close to impossible. So why is this owl so trusting? I learned that this young male owl was injured by a car in Canada last September and taken in by a wildlife rehabilitator. There is a metal band on one of its legs (photo above) and six blue ink markings (photo below) on one wingtip. While there's no way to be sure, it appears to have recovered fully in rehab, and lost its wariness of humans in the process. The concern, of course, is that not all humans care about wildlife equally. Hopefully, the many photographers that were lucky enough to capture this owl don't expect that others will be this approachable.
In two visits to Sachuest I was able to capture a lot of the typical behavior of a Snowy Owl in the wild, without ever leaving the parking lot of the refuge. Much of the time it sat perched atop the visitor center, as it would seek out a high point or rock outcropping on the tundra. From this vantage point it would survey the fields below looking for prey.
I was able to photograph it hunt successfully several times one afternoon. It would keenly eye specific areas in the fields adjacent to the visitor's center, and locate its prey, usually a large vole, hidden in the grass. It seems like it hunted more by sight than sound, especially since people were often talking in normal voices between it and its quarry. When a target was located, it would launch from its perch and fly in a low, straight line, often directly over our heads and out into the field.
When it struck, often 50 to 100 yards away from the perch, it grabbed its prey along with a tuft or clump of grass in its impressive talons and applied the death grip, often flapping its wings to maximize the force.
After a few seconds, it would bend down and use its beak for the final blow, snapping the neck of its prey. Then it would gradually gulp it down whole, head first.
The owl continued to hunt after its first catch, quickly dispatching another vole in a similar manner a short time later.
At one point, after resting in the grass for some time the owl stood up and took a couple steps directly toward me. It leaned forward awkwardly and I was expecting something to come out of its backside, but instead it regurgitated a huge pellet.
The pellet is the made up of the undigested remains of the prey it swallowed whole, including fur and bones. I found another pellet on the lawn in front of the visitors center and photographed it with a ruler. At nearly five inches long, it's the largest owl pellet I have ever seen, and surely indicates that this Snowy Owl is pretty well fed.
I went for a third visit in March, but the owl was not visible for the entire afternoon. It had been seen less frequently near the visitor's center, and I was starting to think this remarkable opportunity was coming to an end. After searching other locations, I wound up back at the refuge parking lot. With the afternoon light fading, I was preparing to leave when a car pulled up and announced that the owl was back atop the visitors center. As the sun began to set, the owl flew off the roof in a low straight line, gliding right past another photographer on its way to an adjacent field. What a showoff!.
