I’ll never forget the feeling of getting my first great wood duck photo. After having no luck with any waterfowl at all to that point, I had waited 8 days, making adjustments to my blind, location, etc. Until finally one morning I saw a pair of wood ducks from across the pond as sunrise started to peek over the mountains.

To my surprise they started moving toward me, and even more to my surprise they didn’t stop. As I was taking the photos I remember how fast my heart was beating. And when the burst of photos was finished, I remember the breath of relief I let out. As if I had been holding it for the entirety of my 8 days out there. There was no one there to pat me on the back, or say good job. For the first time I felt like it was just me and the birds (even though they didn’t know that).

I think I may have already gotten my golden ticket to some extent. This past summer I got to visit Wallace, South Dakota to do a documentary. It is in the heart of the prarie pothole region here in the US which is responsible for producing around 70% of all the United States waterfowl.

I say I only got my golden ticket to some extent because I had gone out to film in the middle of summer. My golden ticket would be being able to experience migration there from a blind during spring.

Birding has always been and I think will forever be an escape to a connection. And it’s my obsession with that connection in a particular conservation issue, species, or scientific break through that seemingly drives what I do. I find that the birds are a mirror of life that sometimes you need to step outside and look into.

With anything in nature I believe that witnessing life from a different perspective other than your own can serve to open doors that you are currently unaware of. I believe birding has served me in that way and can do the same for others as well.