Winged Emerald

Winged Emerald — A lilac-breasted roller turns in flight in Kruger National Park, South Africa. Photograph by Adam Piotr Kossowski.

A lilac-breasted roller takes flight in Kruger National Park

We were looking for a leopard.

It was mid-morning in early June, and we were moving slowly through the thornveld of Kruger National Park in the direction of the Timbavati area. The earlier cloud had begun to clear, leaving a soft, bright light across the bush. Somewhere near a small dam, a hippo’s deep bellow carried through the morning stillness.

As we rounded a patch of thorny bush, I caught a flash of turquoise and warm brown on the bare branch of a dead tree. A lilac-breasted roller was sitting there, only a few metres from the vehicle.

The guide had not really noticed it and was about to continue driving, so I called out and asked him to halt. Once he saw what I had spotted, he paused the vehicle quietly and gave me the time to photograph it.

There is always a small lift of excitement when I see one of these birds. Lilac-breasted rollers may be familiar residents of Kruger, but their extraordinary colours make them difficult to regard as ordinary. If anything, their familiarity sometimes works against them. In a place where eyes are so often searching for lions, leopards and elephants, smaller encounters can easily be passed by.

This roller stayed on its branch longer than I expected. Its head moved in small, watchful turns, one bright amber eye checking the vehicle before returning to the surrounding bush. Every so often, it gave an odd, harsh call—a rough sound from such a finely coloured bird.

It was clearly aware of us and perhaps a little uncomfortable, but it did not seem sufficiently troubled to leave. For four or five quiet minutes, I photographed it as it sat there.

I had photographed rollers before, but I had never managed to capture the in-flight image I wanted. A perched bird gives you time to compose, focus and make small adjustments. Once it leaves, everything changes in an instant.

I kept the camera trained on it, my finger ready on the shutter, and waited.

Each time the roller shifted its weight or glanced in a different direction, I thought it might be preparing to go. The waiting carried its own gentle tension. Nothing dramatic was happening, yet my attention remained fixed on every twitch of its body and every slight change in posture.

A perched portrait would have been welcome, but I was hoping for more. I wanted the moment when the bird left the branch and its full colour opened into the light.

Then, without warning, it sprang from the dead wood.

The quiet brown shape on the branch burst into turquoise and blue. Its flight was not smooth or predictable. It flitted and twisted as it headed towards another tree, its wings, tail and body shifting direction almost continuously. I followed it through the camera, trying to keep the focus locked while taking several quick frames.

There is a particular rush that comes with photographing a bird in flight. The camera demands concentration, but beneath that concentration is the growing hope that one of those brief frames has caught what your eye has just seen.

Winged Emerald captured the roller in the middle of one of its turns.

The upper wing rises in a broad fan of blue and black, while the lower wing sweeps beneath its body. Its tail has opened, and the two long, fine outer feathers stream behind it. Through all that rapid movement, the head remains remarkably steady. Its amber eye is still alert, giving the bird an air of confidence and purpose even as it twists through the air.

The lilac-breasted roller—Coracias caudatus—is largely resident across much of eastern and southern Africa. In the open woodland and savanna of Kruger, it commonly uses exposed branches as a lookout, watching the ground for insects and other small prey. The two elongated outer tail feathers visible in the photograph are characteristic of an adult.

A perched roller seems to hold some of its finest colours close. Flight throws them open.

Turquoise, cobalt and darker blue run through its wings. The lilac breast meets the warm brown of its back, with black along the flight feathers and a quieter green across the crown. Seeing those colours suddenly flare into view was part of the pleasure of finally catching the bird in the air.

The background worked in my favour too. Cooler mauve and grey tones sit behind the raised wing, while the warmer browns below complement the bird’s back and body. It was the sort of background I might have chosen if I could, but this was simply where the roller happened to turn.

After a few brief seconds, it settled in a flutter of blue on another tree much further away. I quickly took another one or two photographs, my hands slightly clammy from the excitement of having caught the flight. Only then did I lower the camera and allow myself to relax.

We watched the roller for another moment before continuing along the road.

We never found the leopard that morning, but I was not disappointed. I had finally captured a lilac-breasted roller in flight, turning through beautiful light with its colours fully open. It was not the outcome I had expected when we began the drive, but it was a wonderful one for me.

We had set out looking for a leopard, but I came back happiest about a bird.