What does it take to make a great bird image? Apparently it has a lot more to do with a hard-core dedication to the specialty and a true understanding of the wilds than it does with photographic technique. Renowned bird photographer Jim Zipp helped me understand this when I interviewed him for an article on the topic for Currents, the magazine of the North American Nature Photographers Association (NANPA).

Based in Hamden, Connecticut, Zipp’s body of avian imagery is mind-blowing. Check out a sample of his photographs on his website and also visit his Fat Robin Wild Bird and Nature Shop. You’ll see that Zipp’s love of birding and his dedication to conservation could not go deeper.

What you won’t find on Zipp’s website is the following story behind how he captured this Great Grey Owl. Note how Zipp told me he was still working with film at the time. Clearly he didn’t need the advantages of digital. Zipp was armed with passion, experience, fortitude and his sixth sense for capturing birds.

“This image is among the most memorable I've made. I had driven 11 hours to Ontario in hopes of finding one of the several Great Gray Owls that had been reported in the area. It is worth noting that this was in January 2001 and the great invasion of 2004/2005 was still a few years away.

“I arrived in the late afternoon and located not one but two birds! I made some images of them before dark and looked forward to returning in the morning.  As luck would have it, I woke to a gray and drizzly dawn. I drove to the area anyway, and while I did see the owls, the conditions were so poor I decided to head north toward Algonquin Park about 100 miles away.

“Along the way the rain turned to snow and by the time I got to the park it was snowing very hard.  I found myself seriously second-guessing my decision to leave the first area. For years I had envisioned an image of an owl in a heavy snowfall and couldn't shake the vision I had in my head of what might be happening back where I started.

“When I got to the booth at the entrance to the park I made a U-turn and made the long and now treacherous drive back. After a couple of white-knuckle hours I made it back and found one of the birds perched far out in a field. The snow was powdery and three feet deep in the fields. So I strapped on my snowshoes, grabbed my tripod, Canon 600mm, camera and teleconverters and slowly made my way into the field.

“With my tripod fully extended the viewfinder of my camera was only about 18 inches off the snow, so I took my snowshoes off and knelt on them to compose and shoot. As is typical of many great grays, the owl totally ignored me while I fired off a few rolls. Yes rolls. This was 2001 and I had not yet made the switch to digital.

“The owl was small in the frame but the setting was surreal and beautiful.  As I watched, the owl lifted off and I thought my photo op was over. But after diving into the powdery snow after some unseen prey, the bird struggled out of the snow and flew almost directly toward me and magically landed on top of a 6ft pine less than half the distance now from where he was!

“I slowly swung my lens toward him and after the first few clicks the bird turned and looked directly at me! For a moment that seemed like forever the camera lost focus in the heavy snow. So I quickly switched to manual focus just in time to get a few frames with him looking directly at me before he turned away and went back about his business.

“I tried squeaking a couple times but he never looked back at me again. I was shooting Provia and was pushing it in the low light conditions to hopefully freeze the falling flakes. After a few minutes he moved a bit further away and I made my way back to my car.

“Within minutes it completely stopped snowing. Had I so much as stopped for a cup of coffee I would have missed the image! I can tell you that it was a very long week before I got my film back. Now that is something I do not miss in this digital age!”