Stalking A Snowy Owl

“One doesn't just sneak up on an owl.”

Yesterday, on a routine city trip to Saskatoon and back, we spotted five majestic snowy owls. The fifth sighting was close enough to the road to stop and attempt a portrait, and I got lucky.

One doesn't just sneak up on an owl. They always see you before you see them, and they don't often have much patience for us. This beautiful female, perched high atop a power pole near the highway, watched as our car drove past, slowed down and turned around, then parked. She heard the door open and watched me approach with my camera, through the snow and across the field. The air was clear and cold, -20˚ C, with no wind. I would stop, kneal, focus and snap, then I'd slowly advance a few more steps and repeat the process, expecting her to lift off at any moment. I seem to recall reading that a Snowy Owl can hear a mouse creeping through the snow, invisible beneath the surface, from a hundred yards away, so I'm sure she could hear not only my clumsy crunching through the snow, but also my breath and the beating of my human heart. She seemed patient and curious, though, and generously posed while I kept getting closer. Now, I don't have an expensive, state-of-the-art camera with one of those huge 600mm lenses that cost fifteen thousand dollars ... just a modest one, but with a decent Leica 25-400mm zoom. It can do a pretty good job, but only if I get close enough and if I get real lucky. This shot is as close as I could get before she tired of my company and lifted off across the prairie.