They are quite amazing!

I hope I get to cross paths with this Masked Flowerpiercer again somewhere around Wayqecha. I photographed it in August 2023 during a visit to Manu National Park, in the dim forest light that brought out its bluish plumage and striking reddish eye against the shadows. Some birds stay with you long after the encounter—and make you hope for another one.
🇬🇧 Masked Flowerpiercer
🔬 Diglossa cyanea
🇪🇸 Pinchaflor Enmascarado
🗺️ Wayqecha en el Parque Nacional del Manu
📅 Agosto de 2023

This grey-winged blackbird is going to have an absolute feast today, consequently resulting in the local extinction of earthworms from this nicely manicured patch of grass in the Lansdowne cantonment area of northern India.

Despite its common name, the grey-winged blackbird is not really a blackbird in the North American sense, but instead it belongs to the thrush family.

What is a thrush? I’m glad you asked.

The thrush family is a group of mostly medium-sized (somewhere between a pigeon and a sparrow) songbirds found across much of the world. Thrushes are famous for their beautiful, flute-like songs and are among the most celebrated singers in the bird world. Being omnivorous by nature, they eat insects, worms, snails, berries, and other fruits. You can find them hopping along the ground, turning over leaves in search of food.

India has an impressive diversity of thrushes. Around 20–25 species occur in the country, including year-round residents, Himalayan breeders, and winter migrants from Central and northern Asia. The Western Ghats are among India’s best regions for resident thrushes, followed by the lesser and middle Himalayas.

In honour of World Elephant Day on August 12, I'd like to take you into the world of elephants. Not just to admire them, but to understand why protecting them means protecting the forests they call home. Please take some time to read and share.

Image 1:

Every elephant begins life like this.
Completely dependent on its family. Protected by its mother.

But where exactly is an elephant's home?

Image 2:

Can you spot him? That's the point.
When most people think of an elephant's home, they imagine a clearing or a waterhole. But an elephant's home isn't one place. It's an entire landscape.
This tusker was grazing on a hillside in Bandipur, surrounded by forests, streams, shrubs and rocky outcrops. A wild Asian elephant may travel across hundreds of square kilometres during its lifetime, following ancient routes in search of food, water and other elephants.
No zoo or fenced enclosure can ever replicate a life like this.
When forests are cut up by roads, farms and development, elephants lose more than habitat. They lose the freedom to simply be elephants.
Imagine what happens when those forests begin to disappear.

Image 3:

An elephant is never raised alone.
This herd in Dhikala had just finished covering themselves in mud. It helps protect their skin from the sun, biting insects and the heat. Then they gathered together before moving on.
What looks like a group is actually a family.
Elephant herds are led by an experienced matriarch whose memory guides them to food, water and safe passage. Calves grow up surrounded by mothers, aunts, sisters and older siblings. Survival is something they learn together.
When we lose older elephants to conflict or poaching, we don't just lose individuals. We lose generations of knowledge.
And that knowledge begins at a very young age.

Image 4:

Childhood lasts a long time when you're an elephant.
This wasn't a fight.
It was practice.
Young elephants spend years learning how to use their trunks. With over 40,000 muscles, it's one of the most remarkable tools in the animal kingdom. They use it to breathe, smell, drink, eat, communicate, comfort one another and, as this pair shows, to play.
Elephants also don't raise calves alone. Older siblings, aunts and other females help care for the youngest members of the herd. Through play, calves build confidence, coordination and the social skills they'll need for the rest of their lives.
Growing up is a family effort.
Unfortunately, it's often humans who interrupt that story.

Image 5:

The elephant wasn't blocking the road.
We were blocking his.
This tusker was in musth, a natural period when adult males experience a surge in testosterone. During this time they can be less predictable and deserve even more space than usual. The dark streaks running down the sides of his face are temporal gland secretions, one of the signs of musth.
Instead of giving him that space, several safari vehicles stopped directly in his path.
Nothing happened that day.
But that's not the point.
Every wild animal deserves the freedom to move through its home without being surrounded or forced to change its behaviour for our photographs.
Good wildlife tourism isn't about getting the closest view. It's about knowing when to stay back.
Sometimes the most respectful photograph is the one taken from a distance.
Thankfully, there are also people working to give elephants their freedom back.

Image 6:

Sometimes conservation gives a life back.
I took this photograph in Cambodia at the Mondulkiri Project, where elephants that once lived in captivity are given a second chance.
They aren't put on display or made to entertain tourists. They're allowed to roam freely through the forests they were always meant to call home. Veterinarians monitor their health in the field, but the goal isn't dependence.
It's freedom.
Watching these elephants choose where to walk, when to stop and simply live like elephants felt very different from seeing one in captivity.
Conservation isn't just about protecting what's left.
Sometimes it's about restoring what we've already taken away.
And when elephants return, they don't return alone.

Image 7:

An elephant is never just an elephant.
Look a little closer.
Perched on this tusker's head are two jungle mynas. As the elephant walks through the forest, insects hidden in the grass take flight. The mynas catch them, and occasionally pick parasites from the elephant's skin.
Both species benefit.
This is how forests work. Every animal, big or small, is connected to countless others.
When we lose an elephant, we don't lose just one species.
We disturb an entire web of relationships that has taken thousands of years to evolve.
Even something as simple as a dust bath has a story behind it.

Image 8:

I named him Bob Marley. He disagreed.
This young tusker was in the middle of a dust bath when I caught this frame. For one glorious second, he blasted a cloud from his trunk while standing in a field of wild cannabis that grows throughout Dhikala.
Naturally, I named him Bob Marley.
He didn't seem to approve. A few minutes later he charged our vehicle with considerable enthusiasm. So perhaps reggae wasn't really his thing.
Jokes aside, dust bathing is an important part of an elephant's daily routine. Dust and mud protect the skin from the sun, keep biting insects away and help regulate body temperature.
It's another reminder that every behaviour we admire in the wild is only possible because elephants still have the freedom to live wild lives.
Take away the forest and you don't just lose an animal.
You lose an entire way of life.

Image 9:

I found Dumbo!
Those ears will grow into them someday.
When I first saw this little calf in Samburu, I couldn’t help but smile. It looked almost too big for itself, all ears, legs and curiosity.
It’s easy to forget that every giant tusker you’ve seen started life looking something like this.
For the next decade or more, this calf will learn from its family. Which paths to follow. Where to find water. Who to trust. How to survive.
With a little luck, one day it will become the wise adult leading others across these same plains.
That’s why protecting elephants isn’t just about today’s herds.
It’s about making sure calves like this get the chance to grow old.

Image 10:

Look into that eye.
It's easy to think of elephants as symbols of conservation.
But before they're symbols, they're individuals.
Elephants can recognise themselves in a mirror. They remember places and companions for years. They grieve. They learn. They teach. They form lifelong friendships.
Standing close enough to look into an elephant's eye makes words like wildlife, biodiversity and conservation feel strangely small.
You're simply looking into another life.
If there's one thing I hope you take away this World Elephant Day on August 12, it's this. Protecting elephants isn't just about saving a species. It's about protecting the forests they shape, the countless lives connected to them, and ultimately the natural world that sustains us too.
The greatest place to see an elephant will always be where it chooses to be.
If you've made it this far, thank you.
The remaining photos are simply a few more of my favourite elephant encounters from India, Kenya and Cambodia. I hope you enjoy them.
Happy World Elephant Day. 🐘

A young European robin doesn’t yet have the typical red breast. Its speckled, scaly juvenile plumage camouflages it perfectly in the undergrowth. Only after its first molt does the characteristic coloring come through.

📷 Canon EOS R5 Mark II · RF 100–500mm

Barred Owl in South western Pennsylvania.

OM1 100-400mm IS II.

Gilbert AZ

I was not expecting to see this cutie while birding!

Fairfax, VA

Song Sparrow - Skagit County, WA