One-Handed Photography

I’m still recovering from major surgery this past September. But I’m mobile enough now to get out of the house for some photography, so I decided I would go out to a local area known as the migration pathway for Sandhill Cranes. These are large birds, similar to other species of cranes, with huge wingspans and beautiful graceful flightlines. Many photographers in our area “flock” to the farmers’ fields where these birds stop on their journey, to fuel up on the remnants of corn fields.

I had one particular challenge this year in getting out to photograph them. They are notoriously shy and make it a point to stay as far away from the roadways as possible. My challenge: because of my surgery, I am still walking with a cane, so trekking around the countryside to get the best vantage point for photographing these birds would be no easy task. Here’s how I did it.

The first task was to lighten my camera load as much as possible. I have the luxury of two camera bodies, one high end with grip, and one mid-range, smaller but no less capable. So it was an easy choice. The lighter one, even if it has fewer megapixels. I also had to make a decision about lenses – or in my case, a lens. No way to carry more than one, and it would remain attached to the camera for the duration. Luckily again, past decisions have led me to possess a 100-500mm zoom lens that is very light and portable. If I didn’t have this, I might not have been able to go. All decisions at my age are now as much about convenience as about the task at hand. Glad I could accommodate both desires on this day.

I had to be able to carry this combination, but more importantly, to hold it and shoot with it. You might think this would involve a strap or some sort of chest carry mechanism across my body – I have some very good ones of those as well. But surprisingly, the answer was very different.

I don’t have the ability to handhold a longer lens right now – I’m carrying a cane. At this stage, I can stand fairly comfortably without leaning on the cane, but walking is a completely different matter. So the cane goes where I go. So how could I manage a birding setup with one hand? The answer: a monopod.

I’ve been searching for the longest time for a monopod that could serve both as a temporary tripod if needed and a single point support for the extra weight of a longer lens setup. I can’t really handhold any long lens anymore – my hands shake too much, eliminating any benefit from image stabilization.

I initially tried Manfrotto monopods, but didn’t like the weight and bulkiness. I also tried one of those 3-in-1 tripod/monopod setups but found that assembly/disassembly was too cumbersome. Enter Sirui, a brand relatively well-known in Europe and Asia, but not really well-used here. They had my answer: a modular monopod with folding feet and a ballhead base. It gives me 360 degrees of panning capability with, at the same time, a solid base that can actually support my camera and lens on its own, although I wouldn’t take my hands off them for very long. I’ve added a Really Right Stuff tilting monopod head to give me full tilting flexibility when chasing birds. Everything snaps together to unfold and fold up again. Really well designed and built.

I attach my camera/lens to the head and sling it over my shoulder, cradling it with one hand. The other hand is on my cane. It’s lighter than carrying a full tripod and frankly, a bit easier to maneuver. Would not do a mountain trek with this setup, but for a short walk from the car, it works quite well. The monopod handle is super well padded and sits nicely on the shoulder.

In all fairness, it’s not really a one-handed setup, since you need to hold the monopod or keep your hand on the lens barrel with one hand while you operate the camera with the other. But as mentioned, I don’t need the cane for standing, so my hands can be free once I’m static. It’s just carrying the equipment to the desired spot that is the issue. This turned out to be the best solution for me.

I do have to comment on the sense of freedom and relief I felt being outside in the countryside again. I had just started driving again after 6 weeks stuck at home and I was wondering if I had the strength to make the drive of 45 minutes each way, then hunt around for my subjects, then set up and shoot, all while standing on the road or alongside a country field. I should not have worried. I felt energized, especially on seeing my subjects gliding into that same field in the distance. It was quiet, except for them and me, it was empty, except for them and me. They are timid creatures and moved away as I got closer to them. I was sorry for that. But then I stopped moving and just watched them, listening to the most haunting call you can ever hear across a farm field. I’ll drop it in here for you to play, if you like. It’s a wonderful sound.

I’m thankful that I’m on the backside of this journey of medical issues and recovery again. I’m thankful that things are better than they were before surgery, and will be even better later. And I’m thankful for every day that I can get out to enjoy my country and my photography. Given so much anger and grief in other parts of the world, I feel so very humbly lucky. Maybe they should all come out and see the birds…