On the Road: Snow geese in the shimmer

I knew things were going to be tough as soon as I put the camera up to my eye.

The snow geese I'd finally found after driving aimlessly around for a couple of hours east of the city, checking out every slough I'd seen them on before at this time of year, I'd finally found a few on a pond by Bassano. Being bright white, they really stood out among the white-fronted and Canada geese they were swimming with.

But as I aimed the long lens, I realized there was going to be a problem.

Earlier, I had another problem. Around this time last year there were plenty of snow geese and white-fronted geese in the area. I found them out by Namaka and on Eagle Lake and on Stobart Lake on the Siksika Nation. But this year, next to nothing.

I did find some ring-billed gulls but not many and no Franklin's gulls at all. They were coloured like snow geese but, obviously, not snow geese.

OK, you may be wondering why I was looking specifically for snow geese. For one thing, being on the far western edge of the Central Flyway, we don't often get the big flocks of migrating birds that, say, Saskatchewan does. Most of the time we get bunches of maybe a thousand birds rather than the 10 — or multiples of 10 — thousand birds that fill the skies to the east.

But when we do get the big-ish flocks coming through, they are almost always snow geese.

That's what I was hoping to find as I headed east. I didn't need to find a huge flock but I hoped for gatherings of a couple of hundred, at least. But so far, no luck.

But there were lots of other birds around. Plenty of small flocks of mallards, common, I know, but nice to see. And a few pipits and sparrows, too. Never did get close enough for them. Meadowlarks flew up from the ditches along the gravel roads and I finally got a picture of one that parked on a fencepost just long enough for a few frames. These are all young birds building up fat reserves before the weather forces them south.

But finally, just east of Bassano, I found the geese I was looking for. And as soon as I looked through the camera's viewfinder I knew I had a problem.

It happens all year round and there is nothing you can do about it. It occurs because heat rising off the land, or, in this case, water. Mixes with cooler air just above the surface. That causes eddies to form in the air, pockets of the lighter, warmer air mixing with the cooler air above it. And those eddies bend the light.

You can actually see it happening if you pay attention. You'll see the horizon across a lake or a field seem to shift and ripple as if you were viewing it through clear plastic or water. And it can happen in any season, even in winter. It doesn't matter if it's -30 C or 30 C; as long as there is a difference in temperature between the ground and the air above it, the air will shimmer.

And that makes it hard for a camera to get sharp focus, especially with a long lens. So no matter where I aimed, the birds were fuzzy. There ain't much you can do in a situation like that but hit the thunder button and hope for the best.

At least I had found the geese I was looking for — and a couple of other cool birds as well.

There were cormorants swimming around on the exit canal from the pond, birds that are mostly headed south now, and a pair of hooded mergansers. I wish they had been closer, such cool little ducks.

But I wanted more geese in hopefully better conditions, so I headed a bit further east to where I'd seen them before.

Yeah, nothing. A few Canada geese and some coots but none of my quested birds. I did find some way off on a shallow lake by a feedlot near Lathom but there was no way to get to them. Same at Snake Lake. A cluster of white specs out on the open water but so far away.

I did find several small flocks of greater yellowlegs, though. They were foraging in the water left in an irrigation canal. Managed to get a few pictures of them but they were flighty.

A lot of the trees still had leaves on them and I found a nice willow in a pasture back by Lathom. The fences along the pastures were lined with bright yellow patches of wild asparagus, so pretty at this time of year. One of these days I'll make it back to see if I can pick some. Never have managed to do that.

I decided to head back to the geese for another look. The breeze had picked up and was now blowing from the west in puffing gusts. That might mix the heat shimmer enough to give me a consistent density to shoot through.

Turned out, it did. It still wasn't great but I could now see the eyes of the geese across the water, something I always try to get sharp, and the orange beaks of the white-fronted geese among them. And that was probably as good as it was going to get.

I started heading back to town now, swinging by Crawling Valley Reservoir to have a look and seeing no patches of white out on the water that might be a flock of snow geese. No surprise today. I did spot a small band of antelope but heat shimmer softened them up, too. They were a long ways off, though, so that affected things as well.

But the rolling native prairie looked nice, so I put the little drone up for a look. I do love the way the grasslands look now. The shades of browns and shining ridges of ripe grass look so peaceful, like a blanket pulled over them as they get ready to sleep.

Since I was already out this way I headed for Dead Horse Lake by Hussar. There was plenty of water in it last time I was there and where there is water out this way, there might be geese. I'd seen plenty of them here before.

Nope, no water. Whatever had been there had dried up over the summer and was long gone. But I put up my little drone again to see if there was any left at all.

There might have been some way out there but I got distracted by the view as I flew along.

Looking across the alkali pan, it reminded me of the surface of the moon. And looking straight down, it looked exactly like it.

Scattered dry plants cast shadows that looked like small craters and the alternating shades of grey and near-white like the differing chemical compositions of the moon's soil. It was fascinating. With a little imagination you might even pick out things like India's Vikram lander or Japan's Moon Sniper.

Bringing the drone back for a landing I realized I could see Hussar just beyond the south shore so I grabbed a picture of that and then held out my hand for the drone to land on. I love this new photo tech.

The sun was getting low now but the light was nice as I drove along. Near Chancellor I found a fox trying to be stealthy in the stubble of a field and even some more snow geese. They were on a pond I had checked earlier but tucked away on a far shore. There were more at another pond, along with a bunch of white-fronted geese, but they were on a second pond by a farmyard. I could have gone up their driveway a short ways but I don't trespass.

The birds in front of me were just fine anyway. On a little rocky island where I'd photographed pelicans a couple of weeks ago were Canada and white-fronted geese, a scattering of ducks and a blue heron that flew off before I could get aimed. And no heat shimmer!

You might not be able to see it on your screen but every eyeball, every feather was crisp and full of detail. Even the ducks across the way were sharp, whether paddling through reflections or among the shadowy amber cattails. Such a relief to finally get some pictures that weren't compromised by something.

But compromises pop up all the time and you just have to accept them and carry on. Like the old saying goes, you have to dance with the one what brung you.