Simply Wild Photography - Andrew Field

31/05/2026

The common warthog (Phacochoerus africanus; Shona: njiri; Ndebele: ingulungundu) gathers in a tightly bonded female society that naturalists call a sounder. A band this large is an uncommon sight, and it lays bare the architecture of warthog family life. At its heart sits a matriline: a sow, her grown daughters and their litters, the females staying together across generations while young boars peel away into bachelor bands. Cohesion runs deeper than habit. A sow that loses a litter will suckle another’s piglets, and orphans are readily adopted, a communal nursing called allosuckling recorded in over half of multi-female groups. Disused aardvark burrows serve as nurseries and boltholes, an adult reversing in so its tusks face the entrance. Family, here, is strategy carved into the savanna.

(Canon EOS R5 Mark II / RF 100-500mm f/4.5-7.1 L IS USM; 1/500 sec; f/10; ISO 200; 500mm)

Picture ©2026 Andrew Field: Simply Wild Photography

A-Z of Photography
Rolling Shutter describes how most mirrorless cameras read a sensor when using the silent electronic shutter: not all at once, but line by line from top to bottom, across a fraction of a second. Because each row is exposed a fraction later than the one above, anything moving quickly can be recorded at the wrong instant, producing tell-tale distortion. A sprinting warthog’s legs may lean, a bird’s beating wing can skew, and spinning blades bend into impossible curves. Flickering artificial light may also smear horizontal banding across the frame. The remedy is a faster sensor readout, as on stacked-sensor bodies, or simply switching back to the mechanical shutter for fast action. Reading top-to-bottom rather than in a single snap is what separates a clean frame from a warped one.

31/05/2026

Wild dog (Lycaon pictus; Shona: mhumhi; Ndebele: inganyana) on the move, mouth agape mid-stride, the decision to run already taken. And it was not the alpha pair’s to take alone. Before a pack commits to the hunt it gathers in an excited rally, a frenzy of circling, twittering and nuzzling. Research in the Okavango uncovered the curious mechanism that resolves it: the dogs sneeze. Each sharp exhalation counts as a vote, and once enough accumulate the pack departs. When a dominant dog initiates, a few sneezes suffice; when a subordinate rouses the group, the quorum climbs. It is egalitarian decision-making written in breath, rare among carnivores. Not merely fleet predators. A democracy on four legs, running.

Source: Walker, King, McNutt and Jordan, Proceedings of the Royal Society B (2017).

(Canon EOS R5 Mark II / RF 100-500mm f/4.5-7.1 L IS USM; 1/1600 sec; f/7.1; ISO 200; 500mm)

Picture ©2026 Andrew Field: Simply Wild Photography

Photography Quotes
Frans Lanting (born 1951 in Rotterdam, the Netherlands) earned a master’s degree in economics before moving to the United States to study environmental planning at the University of California, Santa Cruz, where he turned to photography. Across three decades as a longtime National Geographic contributor he has documented wildlife from the Amazon to Antarctica, his work in Botswana’s Okavango Delta among his most celebrated. The BBC credits him with setting the standards for a whole generation of wildlife photographers.

What my eyes seek in these encounters is not just the beauty traditionally revered by wildlife photographers. The perfection I seek in my photographic composition is a means to show the strength and dignity of animals in nature.
— Frans Lanting

30/05/2026

The hippopotamus (Hippopotamus amphibius; Shona: mvuu; Ndebele: mvubu) hauls itself half clear of a pool carpeted in May's floating green, and holds the pose. It is a portrait the photographer has earned many times over the years, always the same obliging lift of the head, as though the beast knows the lens has arrived. There is purpose beneath the theatre. A hippo spends its days submerged because its near hairless hide burns and cracks in open sun, and it answers the threat with chemistry of its own. The reddish secretion often mistaken for blood or sweat is neither; it is a pair of pigments, hipposudoric and norhipposudoric acid, that screen ultraviolet light and discourage infection in a body forever grazed and bitten. W**d clings to its crown like a careless garland. The most dangerous animal in Africa, wearing its salad, posing for the bush paparazzi.

(Canon EOS R5 Mark II / RF 100-500mm f/4.5-7.1 L IS USM; 1/500 sec; f/10; ISO 200; 500mm)

Picture ©2026 Andrew Field – Simply Wild Photography

Be sure to visit Andrew's latest blog
https://justandrewinzimbabwe.wordpress.com

Digital Wildlife Photographic Tips
A wet hippo in full sun is a deceptively hard subject. Dark, glossy hide throws back hard specular highlights while the shaded folds fall away into black, and a bright field of green floods the frame, fooling the meter into underexposing the animal. Spot meter on the lit flank, not the surrounding w**d, and add a touch of positive compensation to hold detail in the skin. Watch your highlights on the histogram; once those wet sheens clip, they cannot be recovered. A faster shutter freezes the water that sheets off as the beast lifts and turns.

30/05/2026

The black-headed heron (Ardea melanocephala; Shona: shorechena; Ndebele: itsheme) is the heron that forgot it was meant to fish. Where its cousins haunt the river margins, this one strides through dry grassland and open savanna, often far from any water. It hunts on foot, standing motionless or stalking with slow, deliberate patience before the strike. Its menu reflects the ground it chooses. Beetles, grasshoppers, scorpions and centipedes feature heavily, but so do skinks, mole-rats, vlei rats and the occasional luckless dove or nestling. Freshly burnt veld draws it in numbers, the blackened stubble offering easy pickings among fleeing prey. By night it roosts communally, sometimes a hundred birds to a colony, then commutes considerable distances to feed by day. Perched here on a bleached snag, surveying open country rather than a pool, it makes the case plainly enough. Water, it turns out, is optional.

(Canon EOS R5 Mark II / RF 100-500mm f/4.5-7.1 L IS USM; 1/8000 sec; f/7.1; ISO 2500; 500mm)

Picture ©2026 Andrew Field – Simply Wild Photography

A-Z of Photography
Quantum Efficiency is the measure of how good a sensor is at turning light into signal. Strictly, it is the percentage of photons striking a photosite that are converted into captured electrons; a sensor with 80 per cent quantum efficiency records four of every five photons that reach it. The figure is wavelength dependent, peaking in the green around 550 nanometres, which is why manufacturers publish a curve rather than a single number. It also explains the steady march of sensor design. Early front-illuminated chips wasted light against a grid of surface wiring and managed perhaps 40 per cent. Microlenses and, later, back-illuminated layouts that moved the wiring out of the light path pushed modern sensors past 80 per cent. The practical upshot is the cleaner high-ISO files we now take for granted. This frame, made at ISO 2500, owes its usable detail to exactly that efficiency.

25/05/2026

The chacma baboon (Papio ursinus; Shona: gudo; Ndebele: indwangu) sits in the early light with the stillness of something that owns the morning. Beyond its ecology, the baboon holds a peculiar place in the Shona imagination. In the folktales known as ngano it appears as Sekuru Gudo, the slow uncle forever outwitted by Tsuro the hare. The proverb cuts deeper. Gudo guru peta muswe kuti vaduku vakutye, the great baboon folds its tail so the young will respect it, counselling the old to carry dignity quietly rather than flaunt it. To the Karanga the lone baboon in a field is no pest but an ancestor walking, never to be killed. The bush teaches before it feeds.

(Canon EOS R5 Mark II / RF 100-500mm f/4.5-7.1 L IS USM; 1/500 sec; f/6.3; ISO 2500; 363mm)

Picture ©2026 Andrew Field: Simply Wild Photography

Photography Quote

Nick Brandt, born in London in 1964, studied painting and film at Saint Martin’s School of Art before directing music videos, among them Michael Jackson’s “Earth Song”, through which he first encountered East Africa. He turned to photography in 2001, building the celebrated East African trilogy of intimate, medium-format portraits that treat wild animals as sentient individuals rather than action subjects. He co-founded the Big Life Foundation in 2010 and continues to work on the human cost of environmental collapse.

“You wouldn’t take a portrait of a human being with a telephoto lens from 100 feet away and expect to capture their soul; you’d move in close.” Nick Brandt,

Stuck in darkest Africa, lost in the wild and loving it! Don’t let me out of here…

25/05/2026

It took a few hourse to sort out the photographs, but here we go... I am back

The yellow-billed stork (Mycteria ibis) is a tall, unhurried wader of Africa's shallows, its pale, pink-flushed plumage and long, gently downcurved yellow bill unmistakable along the margins of the Zambezi. Yet the bird in this photograph has just done something quietly remarkable: it has caught a fish without ever seeing it. Storks of this kind hunt by touch. They wade slowly with the bill held open and partly submerged, often stirring the mud with a paddling foot to panic hidden prey into the open. The instant a fish brushes those mandibles, the bill snaps shut — a reflex so fast it ranks among the quickest recorded in any vertebrate. Often they forage in loose company, as here, where a second stork works the same gilded water.

(Canon EOS R5 Mark II / RF 100-500mm f/4.5-7.1 L IS USM; 1/500 sec; f/7.1; ISO 2500; 472 mm)

Picture ©2026 Andrew Field – Simply Wild Photography

Digital Wildlife Photographic Tips
A picture like this one is won in the seconds before the catch, not after it. A foraging stork telegraphs its strike: the slow wade quickens, the neck draws back into a shallow kink, and the eye fixes on the water. Learn that body language and you can be ready. Pre-focus on the bird, set a fast shutter (1/2000 sec or quicker) to freeze the spray, and switch to continuous autofocus with a high-speed burst. Then keep shooting through the moment — the fish often shows for only a single frame. Patience, framed in advance, beats reflexes every time.

25/05/2026

The yellow-billed stork (Mycteria ibis) is a tall, unhurried wader of Africa's shallows, its pale, pink-flushed plumage and long, gently downcurved yellow bill unmistakable along the margins of the Zambezi. Yet the bird in this photograph has just done something quietly remarkable: it has caught a fish without ever seeing it. Storks of this kind hunt by touch. They wade slowly with the bill held open and partly submerged, often stirring the mud with a paddling foot to panic hidden prey into the open. The instant a fish brushes those mandibles, the bill snaps shut — a reflex so fast it ranks among the quickest recorded in any vertebrate. Often they forage in loose company, as here, where a second stork works the same gilded water.

(Canon EOS R5 Mark II / RF 100-500mm f/4.5-7.1 L IS USM; 1/500 sec; f/7.1; ISO 2500; 472 mm)

Picture ©2026 Andrew Field – Simply Wild Photography

Digital Wildlife Photographic Tips
A picture like this one is won in the seconds before the catch, not after it. A foraging stork telegraphs its strike: the slow wade quickens, the neck draws back into a shallow kink, and the eye fixes on the water. Learn that body language and you can be ready. Pre-focus on the bird, set a fast shutter (1/2000 sec or quicker) to freeze the spray, and switch to continuous autofocus with a high-speed burst. Then keep shooting through the moment — the fish often shows for only a single frame. Patience, framed in advance, beats reflexes every time.

19/10/2025

The African fish eagle (Icthyophaga vocifer; Shona: hungwe; Ndebele: inkwazi) is more than just a charismatic silhouette over Mana Pools; it’s a vocal emblem of southern Africa’s waterways. Its haunting cry is a territorial call that echoes across the Zambezi, marking its domain. This eagle does not always fish. Opportunistic to the core, it scavenges carrion, steals prey from other birds, and occasionally dines on flamingos or baby crocodiles. Its talons are uniquely adapted: rough soles and powerful grip allow it to sn**ch slippery fish mid-flight, yet it sometimes drags prey to shore if too heavy to lift. Not all apex predators need teeth to rule.

In Shona folklore, the hungwe is far more than a bird of prey; it is a sacred totem, a spiritual sentinel, and a symbol of ancestral authority. The Hungwe totem is one of the oldest in Shona tradition, tracing its lineage to the early Bantu migrations through the Zambezi Valley. Those who belong to the Hungwe clan are said to descend from visionary leaders and spiritual custodians, often associated with wisdom, skyward insight, and the ability to mediate between earthly and ancestral realms. The bird’s cry is believed to carry messages from the ancestors, and its presence near water is interpreted as a sign of spiritual favour or protection. In traditional praise poetry (mutupo), the hungwe is exalted with epithets like Ziendanomudenga (“the one who soars into the heavens”) and Mudyanavana (“the devourer of children”), the latter a metaphor for its fierce protection of lineage and territory. Its image—stylised in soapstone carvings at Great Zimbabwe—became the Zimbabwe Bird, a national emblem embodying sovereignty and continuity. Thus, the hungwe is not merely admired for its ecological role, but revered as a living link between past, present, and spiritual destiny.

(Canon EOS R5 Mark II / EF 100-500mm f/4.5-7.1 L IS II USM; 1/500 sec; f/6.3; ISO 100; 400mm)

Picture ©2025 Andrew Field – Simply Wild Photography

Be sure to visit Andrew’s latest blog

A-Z of Photography
Photoluminescence is the phenomenon where certain materials absorb photons and re-emit them as visible light. In photography, this opens a niche but mesmerising world: UV-induced fluorescence imaging. By bathing a subject in ultraviolet light and capturing the emitted glow, photographers can reveal hidden patterns in minerals, fungi, feathers, or even decaying leaves. It’s not just aesthetic; it’s diagnostic. Botanists use it to identify plant stress, forensic teams to detect bodily fluids, and art conservators to uncover retouching in old paintings. The science hinges on electron excitation: UV photons bump electrons to higher energy states, and as they relax, they release light; often in surreal blues, greens, or reds. For field use, a modified camera sensor and a UV torch are your entry ticket.

17/10/2025

In the floodplains of Mana Pools, the sight of one elephant (Loxodonta africana; Shona: nzou; Indebele: ndlovu) holding the tail of another with its trunk may evoke memories of circus routines, but it’s a natural and meaningful behaviour in the wild. Common among calves and juveniles, tail-holding helps maintain group cohesion during movement, offering tactile reassurance and guidance. Scientific studies link this behaviour to elephants’ complex social structures and high cognitive abilities, with touch playing a key role in communication and emotional bonding. Elephants engage in tail-holding spontaneously—often during travel, play, or moments of uncertainty—reinforcing familial ties and herd coordination.

(Canon EOS R5 Mark II / EF 100-500mm f/4.4-7.1 L IS II USM; 1/320 sec; f/6.3; ISO 500; 123mm)

Picture ©2025 Andrew Field – Simply Wild Photography

Photography Quotes
Diane Arbus (1923–1971), born in New York City, studied photography under Berenice Abbott and later with Lisette Model, whose influence shaped her raw, intimate style. She became known for portraits of marginalised individuals, challenging norms of beauty and identity. Arbus’s work remains pivotal in documentary and psychological portraiture.

"A photograph is a secret about a secret. The more it tells you the less you know.” — Diane Arbus

Stuck in darkest Africa, lost in the wild and loving it! Don’t let me out of here…

11/10/2025

The Three-banded Courser (Rhinoptilus cinctus) is most often seen at dawn and dusk, foraging along sandy woodland floors; particularly in dry woodland and mopane scrub. It thrives in twilight, a time when predators are less active and insect prey is abundant. Its plumage blends seamlessly into the leaf litter, rendering it nearly invisible. Courting pairs form long-term bonds, with both parents sharing the task of incubating a single egg laid in a shallow scrape beneath a bush.

(Canon EOS R5 Mark II / RF 100-500mm f/4.5-7.1 L IS II USM; 1/320 sec; f/7.1; ISO 200; 472mm)

Picture ©2025 Andrew Field – Simply Wild Photography

Digital Wildlife Photographic Tips
When photographing crepuscular (active in twilight hours, dawn and dusk) birds like the Three-banded Courser, embrace the low light: underexpose slightly to preserve mood and detail. Use a wide aperture and high ISO to capture movement without blur, but let the shadows breathe. Twilight isn’t a flaw; it’s the bird’s chosen stage. Position yourself low and wait for lateral movement to silhouette the subject against soft ground tones. The magic often happens when you stop chasing and start listening.