American Bald Eagle
I don’t consider myself a bird photographer. When I returned to photography in 2007, I was shooting anything and everything—yet somehow, most of my images ended up being birds. At the time, local camera clubs were filled with bird-focused presentations and submissions, and for a while, I followed that same path. After a couple of years, though, I found myself burned out and eager to explore new subjects. I still appreciate birds, but they are no longer my primary focus.
That said, I remain drawn to raptors— ospreys, hawks, and eagles in particular. There’s something about their presence and intensity that consistently captures my attention. Living in Florida, we’re surrounded by shorebirds with striking plumage, but when I hear the call of a bald eagle, everything else fades. I stop, look up, and search the sky. Perhaps it’s their relative rarity in our area, but spotting one always feels significant.
In conversations with other bird photographers, I often hear a similar sentiment: everyone has a mental “shot list” of species they hope to capture. Over time, those initial images are replaced with stronger ones as skills improve. But even then, the classic “bird on a stick” can quickly lose its appeal.
A good friend of mine—the official photographer for the Peace River Wildlife Center in Punta Gorda, Florida—once told me, “If you’re going to photograph a bird, it needs to be doing something.” That advice has stuck with me. Some of my most compelling bird images involve action: a bird in flight, striking the water for food, or displaying a fleeting, almost human expression.
A few months ago, my family and I visited Zoo Tampa (formerly Lowry Park Zoo), a place we hadn’t been to in years. I remembered their open-air exhibit featuring a pair of American bald eagles. The enclosure is spacious, and the birds are well cared for, though they don’t fly—likely due to prior injuries.
Photographing in environments like this presents its own challenges: mixed lighting, varied textures, and complex tonal ranges. I prefer to travel light to keep the experience enjoyable for everyone, so I brought a small kit—my Nikon Z6 paired with a Nikon Z 28–400mm lens, a versatile combination that handles nearly any situation I encounter.
When we reached the eagle enclosure, a zookeeper was refreshing their water and delivering food. The eagles were highly vocal, protesting her presence throughout. Once she left, they settled, turning their attention to eating and drinking.
Positioned toward the back of the enclosure, they guarded their meal closely. I zoomed to 400mm to fill the frame. With the late afternoon light filtered through trees, I raised my ISO to 800 to maintain a shutter speed above 1/500. At that focal length, the lens is limited to f/8, making the ISO adjustment necessary.
As I composed the shot, I recalled my friend’s advice about capturing action. Yet one eagle remained fixed on me, its gaze unwavering. In that moment, I shifted my approach and captured a portrait instead. The intensity of its expression said everything—it was fully aware, fully present, and clearly protective of its meal. We’ve all seen stylized depictions of the eagle’s iconic stare, but experiencing it firsthand—and capturing it—was something else entirely. I don’t believe the same level of impact would come from a shorebird or songbird in this context, but here, it worked.
I processed the RAW file in DxO PhotoLab and converted it to black and white using Nik Silver Efex Pro. To further refine the image, I selectively subdued elements of the background in Affinity, allowing the subject to stand out more prominently. Together, these choices helped bring the image to life in a way that matched the moment I experienced. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.
Until next time—
Keep your glass clean,
Spencer
Cool