A visit to a wellknown photo location

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The other day it was time for my first “all in” photo session since I got sick. A friend and I headed to a well-known lake in the Stockholm area – one of those places that flood your feed with images every spring. Despite its popularity, I had never been there. I’m usually not drawn to locations that attract a lot of people, but I decided to give it a try.

I was a bit nervous. Even though I’m on the mend, I’m still far from the energy levels I had before.

We met at 4:00 a.m. It quickly became clear that getting down to the water with my floating hide wouldn’t be easy. Eventually, we found a narrow opening where it was possible to get in. After just a few meters, it suddenly got deep, and things turned slightly panicky. In the end, I managed to find some footing, climbed up onto a patch of reeds, and anchored the hide there. My heart was already racing, my glasses were fogging up, and I was soaked in sweat after the short swim.

The morning was beautiful, with quite dense mist. The air temperature was just above freezing, probably more than a ten-degree difference compared to the water. Despite being well dressed, it was cold. My only possible position was in front light, so it was quite dark to begin with.

A pair of Horned Grebes stayed close by, and I could hear a Moorhen calling from the reeds. A pair of Greylag Geese flew in and landed some distance away. The birdsong in the trees was wonderful – Blackbirds, Redwings, Blackcap, Wren, Redstart and more filled the air with their concert.

Since I couldn’t choose my position, I had quite a bit of clutter in the way, but there was still a small opening to shoot through. At least two pairs of Pochards were moving around. From their behavior, it seemed like the pair bonds weren’t fully settled – perhaps a late-arriving male trying to convince a female he was a better option. Still, everything remained calm.

Overall, the lake was quite peaceful. By early May, much of the drama has faded. No displaying grebes and no fighting coots, but it was still wonderful to be out with the camera again. As usual, the Greylag Geese were early. One pair already had 10–12 goslings swimming around with them.

Suddenly I heard a sound that resembled a machine gun. It turned out to be my teeth chattering. In my eagerness to be out again, I had ignored my body, but now I realized I was seriously cold and had to give up. Of course, a pair of Pochard swam in and settled exactly where I had been lying just minutes after I got out.

But I was so cold that all I could think about was the warmth of the car. By the time I reached the parking area, I felt completely drained, with no energy left.

Back home, I went straight to bed and slept for 3–4 hours, but still didn’t feel rested. I went to bed early that evening and slept another eleven hours. Only by the afternoon of the following day did I start to feel a bit of my energy returning.

It’s crazy how quickly life can change. Unfortunately, it doesn’t seem to move just as fast in the other direction.