The latest Kingdom of the Pelicans group at Lake Kerkini became something more than a workshop. It was five photographers from different parts of the world—Adam from Poland, Bianca, Herman (Dutch, based in London), Orlando from New York, and myself—standing in the same boat, under the same winter sky, responding to the same wild moments.
Different nationalities. Different creative histories. One shared photographic language.
Beyond Words, Into Instinct
Wildlife photography removes the need for excessive dialogue. When the first Dalmatian Pelicans began to shift in the early mist, we didn’t need instructions. A subtle lean forward, a tightening of posture, a finger half-pressed on the shutter—everyone understood what was about to happen.


Light broke softly through the fog. Reflections formed and dissolved within seconds. A bird stretched its wings, signaling imminent takeoff. Five cameras rose simultaneously. No countdown. No commands. Just instinct refined by experience.
That is the invisible rhythm that forms when photographers connect through observation rather than vocabulary.
Five Perspectives, One Subject
What made this group compelling was not similarity, but contrast.
Adam approached scenes with analytical calm, building layered compositions with patience.
Bianca searched for emotional nuance—eye contact, gesture, subtle interaction.
Herman focused on structure, geometry, and disciplined framing.
Orlando leaned into dynamic sequences, bold timing, and decisive movement.
And I moved between them—guiding, observing, adjusting the position of the boat, reading light shifts, anticipating behavior, and ensuring each photographer could translate vision into result.
The Pelicans became the common axis around which five distinct visual styles revolved.


Cultural Exchange on the Water
Conversations off the boat ranged from conservation realities in different countries to creative struggles, gear philosophies, editing approaches, and personal turning points in photography. The diversity enriched every session. Different cultural references shaped how each participant saw the same scene.
Yet once we were back on the water, it all simplified again. There were no countries. No backgrounds. Only awareness, patience, and respect for the birds and nature.
The Power of Shared Focus
Lake Kerkini is never static. Wind redraws reflections. Fog thickens without warning. Sunlight pierces clouds in narrow, dramatic shafts. Working as a cohesive unit allows rapid adaptation. A shift in position. A silent gesture. A shared understanding of distance and timing.
Encouragement replaced competition. When one captured a strong sequence, the energy lifted everyone. When conditions became challenging, focus intensified collectively.
By the final session, movement was quieter. Timing sharper. Compositions cleaner. But more importantly, confidence had grown—not only in technique, but in trust.


One Kingdom, Many Stories
The Kingdom of the Pelicans continues to prove something fundamental: wildlife photography is not only about images. It is about connection. Connection to light. To behavior. To place. And to one another.
Five photographers. Four countries. One boat in northern Greece.
In that quiet expanse of water and sky, the Dalmatian Pelicans once again reminded us that when passion aligns, borders disappear—and the only language that matters is visual.


Gratitude
A sincere thank you to Adam, Bianca, Herman and Orlando for their trust, their focus, and their energy throughout these days at Lake Kerkini.
Workshops are never only about the birds. They are about the people who step into the experience with openness, discipline and respect—for the wildlife, for each other, and for the process.
You each brought your own visual identity, your own rhythm, your own way of seeing. Watching that evolve on the water, session after session, is always the most rewarding part.
Thank you for being part of The Kingdom of the Pelicans.
Until the next horizon.







