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Encounters with birds of prey

I'm sitting on the couch in the living room of our holiday home in Norway, enjoying a drink and tapping on my mobile phone. It had started raining in the late afternoon. Suddenly my brother shouts, what was that? 
I saw it in the corner of my eye too. A relatively large bird had flown right past the living room window in the direction of the trees. Our house is on the edge of the forest and the dense Norwegian mountain forest begins behind. 
At first glance, it looked as if a bird of prey had flown right past our living room window. Could that be? 
We both move carefully to the window. We anxiously search the trees. At first we can't see anything, but then I spot it. 
Well camouflaged, there is indeed a sparrowhawk sitting in the tree. I carefully move backwards towards the large dining table in the living room. My camera with a medium telephoto zoom is lying there ready for use. As a nature photographer, you never know what might happen. 
I grab the camera and carefully move forwards again towards the window. The sparrowhawk is still sitting calmly and unimpressed in the tree. 
I had already been lucky once this week when a young falcon was sitting next to the road. Completely unimpressed, I was able to photograph it, although I had to get my camera out of the boot first.
The wildlife in Scandinavia always fascinates me and is often not comparable with Central Europe. The behaviour of the animals is often much more relaxed, which is probably due to the fact that the animals in Scandinavia have more peace and quiet.
We are able to observe and photograph the bird for almost 15 minutes. Photography is difficult because the light in the forest is limited due to the rainy weather. You also have to look for gaps in the dense branches to be able to photograph the sparrowhawk at all. After a while he flies away, what a sight to remember.


Red fox in the snow


Sweden, february 2022. I've been on the lookout for hours. When I set out this morning, it was still pitch dark on the approach to my hide. In the weak glow of my headlamp I set up, the camera with the large lens is set up ready for use directly in front of me. The rest of the equipment lies next to me ready to hand, because if I should need it, I want to move as little as possible.
Meanwhile it has begun to dawn, the day displaces slowly but steadily the night. On the clearing in front of me, the first outlines of the trees slowly emerge in the weak twilight. The nature around me awakes very slowly from its night rest and appears now slowly in a warm, soft, ever more intensively becoming morning light.
Cold it is today, the thermometer in the car already showed double-digit minus degrees, now around sunrise it is known to be coldest. But that does not bother me much, I am prepared for it and wrapped up accordingly warm. The hide also protects me reliably and hides my silhouette at the same time.

My eyes roam searchingly over the clearing in front of me. I am waiting for a specific motive, but my experience has taught me to always be prepared for anything. How often has it happened to me that suddenly something completely unexpected appears in front of my lens.
Now the old waiting game begins. I sit almost motionless in the hide, observe the landscape in front of me, check the camera settings again and again, however nothing happens. In these moments, a deep calm and relaxation takes hold of me, I absorb the nature around me like a sponge, register every movement, every noise, always hoping that a motive will appear. This almost meditative mood while waiting often lasts for hours.
Then suddenly a movement at the edge of the clearing pulls me out of my thoughts. What was that? Unfortunately, I couldn't see it clearly. Tensely I release the lock of my tripod head and swing the long lens very slowly and carefully in the direction of the position where I saw the movement. After some time a fox actually shows up behind a kind of snowdrift carefully checking the clearing. From then on I watch the fox for about 1.5 hours. He creeps carefully around, disappears several times for a short time in the forest to then come back to the clearing at another place. I don't take any photos, because either the vegetation at the edge of the forest disturbs or the picture composition doesn't fit. Then the fox disappears behind my hide where I can't see him anymore.
When I have already resigned myself after further 20 minutes not to be able to photograph the fox, he emerges again left before me at the edge of the clearing. What happens then I have not expected in such a way, it crosses the clearing and moves toward my position, whereby this photo develops. Afterwards he disappears for this day in the forest.


Film RAI Südtirol

A few weeks ago, my colleague Günther Neunhäuserer and I, were accompanied by a film team while taking pictures. The film that was made will be broadcast on 29.10.2022 at 20:20 on RAI Südtirol in the magazine "Dialog".

For all those interested, the film contribution is available in the media library of RAI Südtirol: Link

Beitrag Rai Web.jpg

Prints in handmade wooden frame 

Some time ago, I thought about how I could give my printed images an even more personal touch. At the same time, I wanted to combine something "modern" with a classic element.


After some thought and fiddling around, I decided to make my own handmade wooden frames and use them to frame prints on aluminium.


To bring out the natural grain of the wood, I brush the wood of my handmade picture frames. In addition, all my frames are treated with a natural beeswax, either light or dark.


From now on my pictures are available as print on aluminium in handmade wooden frames on request.


Arctic Fox in Winter

In Feburary this year I spent two wonderful weeks in Iceland. It was a very adventurous trip, the weather was not always easy and therefore not everything went according to plan but that made it even more exciting. Highlight of this trip was to take pictures of the arctic fox in winter. With the following lines I would like to share some of my impressions with you.

Iceland, Hornstrandir, 17.02.2020: It is stormy, wrapped in my warm down parka I stand outside. The hood pulled over, my back in the wind, the storm whips the snow around me. I hold my camera with the large telephoto lens protectively directed downwards, pressed against me in order to be ready at the decisive moment.

Time passes quickly, many thoughts go through my head while waiting, will today finally be the day?

In any case, the atmosphere would be ideal for photos in the storm. Even if it is not very pleasant to stay out here, there is no place in the world where I would rather be right now.




In the last few days it was anything but clear whether I would even get the chance to photograph the arctic fox this winter. Already on the journey via Reykjavik on Wednesday the weather forecast did not look good. A storm of the century was predicted which would hit Iceland on Friday.
When I arrived in Isafjördur on Thursday in bright sunshine, I never expected to be stuck there until Sunday morning because of the storm and the rough sea.



Sunday morning was the time for our group to load the boat that was to take us to the Hornstrandir nature reserve far out in the West Fjords. The aim was to photograph the arctic fox in the remote area, which could only be reached by boat or in an emergency by helicopter. In conversation with some locals I was often asked whether we really wanted to go out there in winter. Yes, we absolutely wanted to!

As our captain told us, this would be the only chance to get there at all, the next storm was already on its way and would make a later trip impossible. So the situation was as follows. We had a few hours to go out and come ashore until the next storm would come. After this storm we should have some days of acceptable weather until the next big storm would come. So we only had a narrow time window of 4 days. It was all or nothing. The boat ride was intense. I had never had any problems with seasickness before, but this time even I reached my limits. The trip took more than three hours due to the turbulent sea. Two hours longer than normal. We had to overcome the last few hundred meters from the boat to the beach by zoodiac. Finally we managed to get the equipment, food etc. ashore and moved into our accommodation for the next days. Shortly after our arrival the next storm reached us and now one day later it is still storming and I am standing outside waiting.



Then suddenly everything happens very quickly. As so often, when you least expect it, a small dark silhouette appears in the white swirling snow. Only far away and very small, the silhouette steadily approaches my position.

The adrenaline rushes into the blood, excitement mounts. As with many thousands of photos before, the usual routine procedure starts. As if automatically, I position the camera, look through the viewfinder, follow my subject, build up my picture, set the focus and as soon as I am ready I press the shutter of my camera.

To be on the safe side, I immediately record a whole series and release the shutter again.

Did that really just happen or am I dreaming?

Tense, I point my camera back down and check the pictures on the display. In fact, I have just taken my first photos of an arctic fox in winter. I had been dreaming about these pictures for so long and now this fleeting moment is really captured on the memory card of my camera.

During the next few days I had the chance to photograph the arctic fox more often, but the intensity of these first shots could not surpass the following ones.


Arctic Fox in Iceland

More than two years, have passed now since i first toyed with the idea of photographing the arctic fox in icelands northwest. After some more detailed reasearch it became clear that this idea was not so easy to realize.
As i was working on some other projects contemporaneously my "arctic fox projekt" had to wait. I never lost sight of this idea and so i restarted the planning in spring of 2018. After a couple of setbacks i managed to get in contact with a photographer that is photographing the arctic fox in Iceland for more than 10 years.

In july of 2018 i definitely decided to travel to Iceland in July 2019 to photograph the Melrakki (icelandic for arctic fox) as part of an international group of four people. After a never ending year of waiting, i finally travelled to Iceland mid of July this year. All in all it was a very successful, exciting but also effortful time. 
It's difficult to put into words the amazing impressions that i brought home from this rough island in the north atlantic, thats why i want to share here some pictures with.

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