I’m lying in the rivermud. It’s water-worn rocks, silt and sand washed down the Tasman river to where the delta sprawls into Lake Pukaki, a thrilling turquoise even under a heavy sky. Misty clouds obscure the usually stunning view towards the Tasman Glacier and Aoraki Mount Cook. To my left, tūturiwhatu Banded dotterels are zipping along the dry braided riverbed, to my right, two juvenile kakī Black stilts are making their probing, ponderous way down a rivulet.

Three months ago I was in this same spot, watching recently released kakī scrap over their supplementary feed. They’ve since dispersed, 184 new birds adding to the wild population of ~130 breeding adults. These two are a little slow off the mark, or maybe they just like this particular patch. I love their mottled plumage – a mix of salt and pepper that is just beginning to take on the oily sheen of iridescence on the wings. One day, these long-legged birds will be jet-black and ready to start families of their own. Hopefully.

kakī are one of our many braided river breeding birds that are threatened by a milieu of human-caused problems. Invasive weeds, turning dynamic riverbeds into weed-choked wastelands. Invasive mammals, destroying nests, killing eggs, chicks and parents. 4WD enthusiasts, blasting along seemingly ’empty’ riverbeds. The kakī recovery program spends every breeding season raising as many chicks as possible to release into the wild, to bolster a population that is barely sustaining itself. Intensive predator control is the only way these birds can manage to not only survive, but raise chicks.

Beside me, clicking away and chuckling at the antics of these leggy wonders is my favourite photography companion. I spent a lot of the #birdventurenz alone, but he’s joined me for as many adventures as possible. It’s pouring with rain. It’s cold, grey and the definition of miserable. And we wouldn’t want to be anywhere but here, sharing moments with these amazing birds.

Lying down is the best way to see birds. Being small, staying still and quiet are remarkable tools in birdwatching and photography. There’s no need to chase birds for photographs when they’ll come to you, given enough patience and peacefulness. It’s hell on the neck muscles, but it’s worth it for the encounters, and the photos you get as a result. I spend a lot of my time lying down on the job, but it’s the best way to get the job (or the fun!) done. Here’s to many more adventures, lying in the mud, soaked by the rain, surrounded by birds.