Taking pictures of animals is difficult. Well, taking good pictures of animals is difficult. If you are at a zoo, there are physical barriers to contend with: fencing, which you either have to stick your camera somehow through, or crop out in post-production; or inches-thick glass, which casts a blue haze over whatever you've shot. If you're in the field, physical proximity becomes an issue—you have to somehow get close enough to take the photo without scaring the animal, or vice versa without the animal scaring you. This past summer I spent a good ten minutes trying to inch my way toward an overly-tame, if not wholly friendly, beach goat in Majorca only to have several other tourists move in and cause him to leave. And this was after he'd spent the bulk of the afternoon terrorizing everyone's picnic baskets and/or beach tents; let me tell you he was not skittish. I recently read that one of the National Geographic's go-to cat photographers sets up mini-waterproof cases with a light-triggered camera inside, so when a big cat (think lion) walks by they essentially take their own 'selfie'. Genius! Moreover, animals move—a lot. Think of the last bird you saw flitting around in a park and you get the idea. They're not going to pose for you, or so I thought. Unless you get lucky.
Beach terror
It's been a long time since I took the above photo, but I'll never forget taking it. The largest of the silverbacks happened to be sitting directly beside the glass of his enclosure, meaning there were just inches between him and I with a glass divider. With my little cousin Kim beside me (the sort of elementary kid whose choice clothing is a dress and sparkly TOMS), I began happily clicking away. Then I stopped as the gorilla stood up. He bent slightly at the knees and waist. Kim and I stared wide-eyed as he reached around and grabbed a perfectly-shaped brown orb from his bottom and held it up for inspection. Then he looked us dead in the eye and took a bite. Like it was an apple.
I guess animals pose, alright.