Jack Pine Trail Chickadees

While in Ottawa I was checking off the boxes for what I’d hoped to film here at a shocking pace. I hit a point where I had a few days left and had basically covered everything, so I looked back at my list of not-Ottawa-specific subjects to see if I might be able to tick any more off before I left. And I landed on chickadees.

That guy

Over the winter I’ve had decent luck with the chickadees despite their best efforts to bounce and dart their way out of my frame constantly. I felt like I had enough to get through the episode if I had to.

The one wish list item I had left was dedicated CUs of their heads. If not just their heads, close enough to be able to single them out. The episode is about their brains, so I imagined an animation transition from real chickadee in footage to X-ray style reveal of the brain. That required a close close-up.

And it occurred to me that years back we’d taken a hike to a particular spot that was infamous for domesticated chickadees - they’d readily eat out of your hand if you brought bird seed.

So I sort of equivocated. Actually going with birdseed, I decided, was somehow cheating. I don’t want to get in the habit of luring animals with tactics that would be frowned upon, even if that was a known thing about this place.

But taking advantage of the fact that the chickadees there are very comfortable with people? That, I decided, was not cheating. So off I went to Jack Pine Trail.

It’s a beautiful little hike, with several branching options taking you through forest, wetland boardwalk, artificial meadow cleared for power lines, and the heavy canopy of stands of evergreens. That day there was also a very vocal bluejay and some mourning doves, and I heard at least a few woodpeckers tapping in the distance.

And the chickadees? At first it was the usual headache. They were abundant, and definitely responded to me. If I planted on the path they’d show up a couple minutes later, chattering expectantly for food, getting good and close.

But they were their usual exuberant, darting selves. And to get the kind of shot I wanted, I was on a 400mm lens windowed in-camera 2x. Effectively an 800m. Trying to swing that thing around and locate / focus on a chickadee for the 3 seconds it stayed put was an exercise in total frustration.

And I stayed frustrated for the first few stops I made, winding up with a lot of footage of blurry or empty branches. I got desperate at one point and pulled out my phone, hoping the comfort of the chickadees would extend to the point I could basically shove it in their faces and use its 77mm lens, while being much more able to track them as they hopped around. But even that only proved semi-successful, and I definitely wasn’t getting that sustained, locked-in close up I needed.

What turned things around were some good samaritans who, after having had their fill of hand-feeding the birds, dumped the rest of the seeds they were carrying in a bird feeder. Most of the feeders on the trail had been empty and the birds knew it, they were ignoring them. But the fresh delivery attracted a small swarm of chickadees - and an obstinate red squirrel, who threatened to ruin everything by stuffing his face at the feeder and not letting anyone else in. But he finally had his fill leaving the rest to the chickadees - and one intrepid nuthatch.

Thought you could trick me into thinking you're a chickadee, huh? Well... almost.

I didn’t want to rely on the feeder itself - it’s just an uglier visual if the chickadee is up against plastic. So I waited and watched and identified the branches around the feeder that they’d most often perch at just before they made their hop to the feeder itself. Testing my luck at their comfort level, I swapped the 400mm for a 100mm macro - still windowed, so in effect 200mm, and planted the tripod like a foot away, focused on that branch.

I’d have loved to be able to step away and just run it through a few visits by the chickadees, but there was enough variation on their perching spot that I had to be there actively adjusting position and focus. Fortunately, the chickadees did prove comfortable enough to keep visiting once I’d settled down for a bit, and over the next twenty minutes or so I nailed my close up close-ups on the branch (helped by the fact I was running at 120fps, so I only needed a few good seconds of the chickadee staying put for a viable shot)

Pictured: success.

I also made a last-minute decision to return to a particular path to grab some drone shots of stark winter landscape. It was the sparse forest letting me safely run it between the trees, and the untouched snow really selling how barren it all was.

I made a couple more stops on my way out but I had what I’d come in for. I also passed a few more lines of people with hands outstretched to the birds - very cute. I think this is fine… I kept wondering whether the reputation of this place and the fact that people came just to hand-feed the birds was a problem. I guess I’d categorize it as ‘technically not great if you really want to be a stickler, but effectively harmless and just let people have their moment’. It’s akin to the impossible question about zoos - how do you weigh the potential harm to captive animals against the conservation work they do and the people who’s interest in nature is sparked by an experience there. So I should maybe just not be a curmudgeon and let people feed the darn chickadees by hand.