The day I met the Kingfisher

I heard a rumor—whispers of a kingfisher spotted around Qudra Lake in Dubai. A bird that doesn’t belong here. Not native, not common, not easy. That was enough for me.

So I did my homework. I studied its habits, learned its rhythm, its feeding times, flight patterns, even the kind of perches it prefers. I wasn’t going to leave this one to luck.

The day I decided to try, I was up at 3 a.m. Coffee brewed, gear packed. I pulled on my leafsuit camouflage—the kind that turns you into part of the scenery. By 5 a.m., I was already tucked deep between the bushes at the site, completely still. You would’ve had to step on me to notice I was even there.

Then came the wait. One hour and fifteen minutes of silence, of hoping, of staying perfectly still.

And then he landed.

I can’t describe the feeling. The blood rushed to my head. My hands tightened around the camera. He gave me a full-on show—cleaning his feathers, diving for fish, basking in the golden edge of the morning sun. I snapped around 1800 shots, and I swear, each one looked better than the last.

He stayed with me until the peace was broken by a group of photographers who had just arrived—talking, moving too fast. The kingfisher bolted.

But here’s the kicker—karma showed up right on time.

When I stood up, fully camouflaged and completely invisible until that moment, they nearly jumped out of their skin. One of them might’ve actually screamed. I just nodded, packed my gear, and walked off. Shot secured. Mission complete.