Eye to Eye [antikvár]

INTRODUCTION I have always been drawn to animals. But the thought of a life centered around that passion did not occur to me until after I bad embarked on a career in economics. I should bave realized that my heart was in a different place when the week after I graduated with a master's degree, I was back in a marsh next to the university, photographing birds. Two years later, after I had moved to California for a research project, I abandoned all caution, took up a camera—and never looked back. How I made the transition from academics to nature photography is still a mystery to me. I plunged in without formal training in either photography or biology. Perhaps this absence of qualifications has helped me to maintain an open mind. Although 1 often use the findings of field science as the basis for my work, I like to go beyond a scientific approach to the point where I see eye to eye with my subjects. Ultimately the animals are my teachers. They define themselves in their encounters with me—and no two are alike. During my youth in Holland I read a children's book that made a deep impression on me. The Wonderful Adventures of Nils, published by the Nobel Prize-winning Swedish author Selma Lagerlof in 1907, tells the story of a boy who shrinks to the size of an elf, climbs on the back of a barnyard goose, and joins a flock of wild geese migrating north. For a year Nils travels with the geese, who introduce him to Eagle, Raven, Bear, and other animals. He learns to see the world through their eyes. But when Nils finally returns to his family's farm and regains his former size, he loses his standing among the animals. The geese, suddenly afraid of their companion, take off—but not until after they plead with him to become an advocate for their needs. As sentimental as it may be, this children's story has resonated with me, and even today it reflects some of my basic beliefs and aspirations as a naturalist. I have spent much of the past two decades in the company of animals, trying to understand and interpret their ways. The conditions under which I work are often a far cry from Nils's intimacy with his wild geese. Long lenses, remotely controUed cameras, and other complicated contraptions—plus a great reserve of patience—are often prerequisites to overcoming the distance most animals like to keep from the camera. There are, however, some places where things are simpler, where the appearance of Homo sapiens does not trigger immediate fright or flight. In the course of