One day last week I was sitting on my back deck reading a book when two kingfishers started chattering and flying at each other right there in front of me, but the minute I got up (quietly) to get the camera, they vamoosed on up the creek. Not to be deterred in my eternal quest to photograph a kingfisher, I followed them upstream just as far as I could, right up until the creek edge turned vertical. Then I slipped and ended up sitting in the mud.
I never saw the kingfishers again that day and I've heard but not seen them along our creek since then. They seem to be living further upstream than they have in past years, but I can't seem to get a photo of them regardless of where they live.
Until today--but I had to go clear to the other side of the county to capture this photo. My local kingfishers are too camera-shy to pose, but this little female sat above a creek where a friend and I were looking at wildflowers. In flight they're such majestic birds, but at rest their heads look too big for their bodies, as if some toddler's been pulling apart his toys and can't quite manage to match up the parts. Our kingfishers seem to be mating so perhaps we'll have more--more birds, more chattering, more opportunities for me to fall in the mud.
But no matter. It's all good. I like living in a world with kingfishers in it even when they lead me far astray.