Hi, I'm Tom Jenkins,
and I'm a sports photographer based in London.
I work for The Guardian and the Observer Newspapers,
and I'm also a Canon Ambassador.
For over 30 years,
I've been lucky enough to cover hundreds of different sporting events.
But of course, this year is totally different.
As someone who normally travels all over the world for work,
it has been a real challenge to find new ways to take interesting photographs,
especially whilst at home during the pandemic.
Thankfully, I found inspiration in the nature immediately surrounding me.
Back in mid March,
all my normal avenues for taking pictures were suddenly closed off,
but I needed to keep taking pictures for my own sanity, as much as anything else.
It was a time to reframe, refocus and think of something different.
Sitting in my small garden,
springtime growth was evident all around me.
I noticed some tulip bulbs emerging from the soil and getting ready to bloom.
What if I took a picture every day of their development?
Suddenly I had a small and simple project.
Rather than using one of my fast,
large cameras that I use for sport like this one,
I thought I would challenge myself,
so I picked up my Canon PowerShot G1 X Mark III.
This is normally my holiday camera.
Light, easy to maneuver around the flowers and,
most crucially,
able to focus close up.
This small camera turned out to be perfect for this project.
As the sun moved around the garden during the day,
I would note which times were best to photograph certain parts of the tulips.
I would set the exposure on the camera for the sunlight,
which meant the backgrounds,
often in deep shadow anyway,
would go pitch black.
By varying angles or going in really tight,
I attempted to show the beauty of the flowers in a slightly surreal way
Alongside the plants, I was noticing other wildlife in my garden.
Insects was suddenly interesting me.
If I had a good macro lens,
extreme close ups of them would have made a great project.
The same with some seeds we've just planted.
I could have done a time lapse of their growth.
Once the tulips had died down,
I needed something else.
Perhaps a story that could give me the adrenaline kick that sport does.
Fortunately, the answer was right on my doorstep.
Just as lockdown began,
I noticed two small birds flying around in my front garden,
which I discovered were a pair of long tailed tits.
They were building a nest in the rose bush right by my front door.
It was perfect.
I could follow these birds,
watch them as they built the nest and then hopefully onto the hatching of the eggs.
Another project.
One more difficult, more unpredictable than the tulips,
but also more testing and more long-term.
At first it was really hard.
They were tiny and incredibly fast.
I was chasing them around,
but they would fly off as soon as I got near.
But I kept watching them and gradually began to learn their patterns of behavior.
I would take notes where they flew to, which trees which bushes they preferred.
That way I could get ahead of them rather than chasing all the time.
I was getting to know what I call the hot zones, just like in sport.
Areas where more action would happen and my chances of success were greater.
In this case, often near the nest.
During the nest-building stage,
the birds would have sudden mood changes.
Turning from calm and cute to angry, aggressive birds, repeatedly smashing into our front windows.
I soon realized that they must have been confused by the reflections of the glass,
attacking the mirror image of themselves,
thinking it was a rival bird threatening their new nest.
I would use a very high shutter speed to freeze the wings,
but at the same time use a very wide aperture to throw the background completely out of focus.
When I shot a decent frame,
it gave me the same buzz as getting the key moment in a football match.
But these birds were also proving unpredictable, much like sport again.
Some days were quiet, with just the odd fleeting sighting.
I had to be very patient and resourceful.
You know I am sitting behind my bins,
trying to be as camouflaged as possible, so the birds can't see me.
Not exactly the most glamorous location I've ever shot in.
It reminded me of a cricket match,
going ages with nothing much occurring at all.
Then, boom!
The action happens,
and it's all over in seconds.
Once the nest was fully built,
the birds began to find feathers with which to line it,
making its soft for the eggs to be laid.
Then it went quiet again.
The birds no longer flying into my window,
they went into their own lockdown.
Instead of the two of them heading out together,
one would occasionally fly off while the other would stay at home,
incubating the eggs.
Eventually, I spotted a sure sign that the eggs were hatching.
A bird heading into the rose bush with food in its mouth.
Climbing up a stepladder gave me a great view of the nest.
I'm keeping really quiet, not to scare the chicks,
which are a few days old.
A pair of birds are coming in and out all the time now trying to feed them as much as they can.
Being so close was wonderful.
It was a perfect opportunity to try out the electronic shutter of the new Canon EOS-1D X Mark III.
20 frames a second and absolutely silent.
It may be a stereotypical scene, seen countless times on television,
thrusting beaks eager to grab food,
but it still gave me goose bumps,
witnessing it right there in front of me.
Roughly 12 days after hatching,
the chicks were large enough to fledge from the nest.
Seven of them emerged,
and after a short time, flapped their wings for their maiden flights.
Some were more successful than others,
I'm wondering if I were at all, landing on the camera I was actually filming it with.
After spending one night in the hedge in my front garden,
the whole family of birds flew off and my time with them was over.
So what have these projects taught me?
I have tried to view these past few months as an
opportunity to learn new skills and try something I would never normally have the chance to do.
It has also made me focus on, and notice what's being under my nose all the time.
Sometimes we ignore what's right in front of us when it could be strangely remarkable.
It has reconnected me to the nature around my home.
I've always marveled at some of the images that wildlife photographers produce.
Now I have even more respect for them.
It has also encouraged me to test myself in other aspects of photography.
Even though my love and specialty is sport
that doesn't and shouldn't mean my photography begins and ends there.
We should think of ourselves as photographers first and not force ourselves
to be pigeonholed in certain genres.
I have learnt that this is especially relevant right now.
Thanks for joining me.
I do hope it's given you a few ideas as well as some inspiration.
Good luck.