New Zealand dabchicks aren’t often easy birds to see. These secretive little freshwater birds frequent reedy lakes and aren’t too fond of people. Growing up around the Rotorua lakes I was lucky to see quite a bit of them, and I didn’t realise how relatively rare that opportunity was. Introduced predators and habitat loss wiped out weweia in the South Island completely in the 1900’s, until in 2012 a pair was seen breeding in Takaka.

Weweia weren’t on my hit-list for the #birdventurenz, I thought I had them pretty well in hand from many afternoons and evenings spent photographing around Lakes Rotorua and Okareka. But in one of our yearly forays to Sulphur Point (Lake Rotorua), Dad and I had the closest encounter we’ve ever had – and it was one of those photos that made it into The Brilliance of Birds.

Tucked in under the dropping pohutukawa on the lakeside were a pair of stripey half-grown dabchick-chicks. We lay down on the jetty in the duckshit to get a good low angle on them as they milled around in slow circles in the shade.

First one, then two adults appeared from underwater – both obviously parents. The chicks weren’t so interested in food, more in napping. It was a quiet scene of family contentment.

Slowly, quietly, they drifted over to say hello. Too close to focus, close enough to touch. Close enough to see the striking detail of their white eyes and streaked heads without binoculars, or even the long lens I was using. I’ve never been so close to these little birds before, and I doubt I will again. It was just one of those experiences of pure wonder.

I often get asked for bird photography tips or advice, and people expect me to spout things about shutter speed and aperture and lens length. But my best advice is this:

Sit down, lie down. Be still. Be silent. Watch the world go by, and the birds will come to you.