Blog
Out in the field...
April 3.2025
I spent a day following a hawk through the woods of Pole Hill Park.
Would you believe that when I first arrived, I was only carrying one camera with a short lens?
What was I thinking?
I know what I was thinking.
Imposter syndrome.
Pulling into my parking spot for the day, several individuals were busy working in the community garden that guards the path of Pole Hill Park.
Mild anxiety set in.
As I stepped off the pavement around a bend from the garden, I saw movement in the flora ahead.
One, two, three turkeys bobbled through the bushes a dozen or so feet in front of me.
Shit.
I didn't have my long lens.
Oh well, that's okay.
It was not okay.
Fifteen minutes later, I was heading back to the car to grab a second camera and lens.
I hoped against hope that I would see the turkeys again.
Nope.
But I did see the flash of a hawk above the quarry as I explored the sandy area.
I have never had luck with photos of hawks.
Until today.
I climbed up the path to the treeline and began following this edge.
It was then I spotted the red-tailed hawk.
It perched on a limb looking out over the quarry, observing.
Hunting.
Over the years, I have learned to take as many photos as you can, always.
I began.
A couple shots here, get closer, a couple more shots, get a little closer.
Over and over until I’m almost under the hawk.
I am ready for it to flee at any moment.
That moment comes and I watch it land, across the quarry.
Should I go over there?
No, it’ll just fly away once you get there.
Do it anyway, just go.
You like to walk, right?
Damn, that’s true.
You know what’s nice about Southern New Jersey?
Sand and fallen pine needles absorb the sound of footsteps.
I’m on the other side of the quarry now.
I memorized the tree that the hawk landed in and I’m underneath.
It should be here.
I look up and there it is.
Air escapes my mouth in a silent release of awe.
I could not believe how close I was.
Take a photo, silly.
I gingerly pick the camera up from around my torso and raise the Tamron lens up.
What followed was two hours of this gorgeous red-tailed hawk flying from tree to tree, followed by this photographer from tree to tree (or as close as I could reasonably get).
Just when I thought I had lost it, I would find it again.
After the first hour, I began wondering if the large bird of prey was toying with me.
There’s no way.
Kiss my ass, imposter syndrome.
This day, I was a damn good photographer.
