As of late I have been writing in this column about travel and “getting the shot”. As a wildlife photographer, getting the shot is about the only thing that matters. Well, this week I am going to break with recent history and interject some major league reality. This week’s topic is about “not” getting the shot.

It all started about six years ago when I built a blind on a local pond with the plan of getting some images of a Belted Kingfisher (Ceryle alcyon). This is a fairly large bird, about 12-13inches in length that hunts for small fish along the edges of streams, lakes and ponds, just like the pond where I have my blind.

When I first built the blind I would spend days in the blind waiting for the Belted Kingfisher to come by so I could get a shot. What I got was a big fat nothing. In fact, after a while I completely gave up on the Kingfisher and for several years I didn’t even try. Then last year I was so determined to “get the shot” of this bird that I built a special perch directly in front of the blind for the Kingfisher to land and hunt for his favorite food—small fish. Days and weeks go by and again nothing.

This spring I changed around my perch in hopes of making it more attractive. I could hear and see a Kingfisher near my pond but still nothing. Then one afternoon while I was not in the blind I saw the Kingfisher come in and land on my perch. Right where I wanted him to land. He sat there on my perch looking perfect then he dove head first into the water after a fish and then flew right back up onto my perch and sat there just as I had envisioned it in my head a hundred times.

Needless to say I ran and quickly gathered up my camera gear and headed out to the blind. I was filled with great anticipation of finally “getting the shot” I have been dreaming about for the past six years. Quickly and very quietly I made my way through the woods and into the blind. I sat down and passed my camera lens through the opening in the front of the blind and readied my camera. I took care to pre-focused on the perch so that when the bird lands I will have the bird already in the frame. I thought to myself, ok this is it, I am going to get the shot.

I sat quietly while the first hour passed by, then the second hour ticked by and the third hour. Meanwhile every other bird and mammal species known to man-kind either flew by or swam past my blind, but no Kingfisher. I took some pictures of a Muskrat that was swimming by. He looked like he was having a bad hair day and it made me laugh to myself. A pair of Wood Ducks swam past. I took some pictures of them. The ducks flew up into a tree and sat for a long time. A pair of Mallards fell asleep on a log and snoozed away the afternoon. I too fell asleep for a short while. When I woke up there was still no Kingfisher.

While I was sitting there completely dejected, I thought about my column. “Now what am I going to write about?” I certainly can’t write about the Kingfisher since I still don’t have “the shot”. Completely broken, I packed up my camera gear and headed back to my truck. While walking back I thought just how often I don’t “getting the shot”. I know the realities all too well but I am not sure anyone else knows. I thought of the time I spent seven days in my blind for 8 hours a day waiting for a Northern Goshawk to land on my perch and nothing happened. Or the time I drove across country to photograph a Big Horn Sheep in the Rocky Mountains for the cover one of my books but could never find a big ram to photograph. Or the time I went to Isle Royal to photograph bull Mouse but only found cow Moose. The list of “not getting the shot” goes on and on.

So next week I will try the Kingfisher again and maybe, just maybe I will get lucky. Heck it’s only been six years that I have been waiting, what’s another week. Until next time…