How many pictures does one have to take to get a mostly in focus Cedar Waxwing? One hundred thirty-two. If you’re me, that is. Waxwings have a knack of flying off just as I hit the shutter. I have a lot of awesome shots of empty branches and blurry bird legs. I think that sound they make confuses my brain and messes with my eye-hand coordination. The gale-force freezing wind didn’t help, either. Not a wind fan.
Look at that mocking eyeball. This should have been like photographing fish in a barrel tonight. An ever-growing waxwing flock flew back and forth across the yard, landing in trees on either side of me. At one point a couple hundred or so of the little waxy punks tzeee-ed their brainwave-altering “song,” if you want to call it that, as they taunted me from left to right. This one took mercy on me for exactly two seconds. They can go back up north or to the mountains any time, as far as I’m concerned. I’ve been trying for this shot all winter, and now I need a solid nap.
