Winter Bird Spectacles in Japan: Eagles, Owls and Cranes. By Joachim Theis

This is Part 2 of my four-part blog series on wildlife photography in Japan. In Part 1, I described how the COVID years turned me into a bird photographer in Tokyo, following pond and shorebirds through parks, rivers, and Tokyo Bay. In this post, I head north and south in search of Japan’s great winter bird spectacles.

Click here for Part 1

Steller’s sea eagle with its catch on the drift ice

From Tokyo ponds to Japan’s winter wilds

After months of practicing bird photography in the parks and riverbanks of Tokyo, I wanted to experience Japan’s wildlife in more dramatic locations. With international travel still off limits, I looked for wildlife photography tours to some of Japan’s wilder corners.

Feeding endangered birds in Shiretoko

On my first tour I visited the Shiretoko Peninsula in eastern Hokkaido, one of the few places in Japan that still feels genuinely wild. Black cliffs lashed by the ocean, abandoned kelp-fishing shacks along the shore, and sea ice in winter give Shiretoko the feeling of the end of the world. The peninsula’s dark forests are home to brown bears, eagles, and owls, and salmon run through its rivers in autumn. It is easy to see why Shiretoko is protected as a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

The rugged coastline of the Shiretoko Peninsula

Japan takes a hands-on approach to protecting some threatened birds by feeding them in winter. In Hokkaido, this has helped species such as red-crowned cranes, Steller’s sea eagles, white-tailed eagles, and Blakiston’s fish owls survive when snow, ice, and food shortages make life hard. Feeding endangered birds has helped some species recover, but as I watched the birds arrive for their hand-outs, I felt both grateful for the chance to see them and uneasy about how closely their winter survival is tied to human intervention.

Managed feeding sites help eagles survive harsh winters

Eagles on the sea ice

Watching and photographing eagles on the sea ice was one of the most spectacular wildlife experiences I had in Japan. Before dawn we boarded a small tour boat heading into the drift ice, and the crew began throwing fish to attract Steller’s sea eagles and white-tailed eagles.

The feeding frenzy on the ice was matched by the intensity on board, as cameras fired in every direction. When the sun rose, it washed the sea and the birds in shades of orange that made the scene even more dramatic.

It was bitterly cold on deck, and I tried to keep my fingers warm enough to press the shutter. After two hours, I had filled all my memory cards and taken 8,000 images. It took several evenings to sort through them and keep only the best. After that, I used burst mode more sparingly.

Eagle soaring over the sea ice at sunrise

White-tailed eagle landing on the sea ice at sunrise

Steller's eagle waiting for breakfast on the sea ice

A dawn encounter with Blakiston’s fish owl

Another winter highlight in eastern Hokkaido is the chance to see Blakiston’s fish owl, the world’s largest owl. In Japan, it survives only in parts of Hokkaido, where small populations hunt along rivers.

Because its habitat is so limited and dependent on ice-free water, some lodges maintain feeding ponds that make it possible for visitors to watch and photograph these immense birds at close range.

Before going to Hokkaido, I had read Owls of the Eastern Ice by Jonathan C. Slaght, which recounts the author’s winters studying these owls in Siberia under harsh conditions.

Fortunately, my lodge had a panoramic window facing the owl feeding point. I chose to rest early and wake at 5 a.m. Within half an hour, an owl dropped silently out of the darkness, grabbed its breakfast, and vanished again. The entire encounter lasted less than a minute, but it was enough to capture a few clear images.

A glimpse of the elusive Blakiston’s fish owl 

Blakiston’s fish owl with catch

Red-crowned cranes in the mist of Hokkaido

Hokkaido’s red-crowned cranes are among Japan’s most iconic birds. Once close to extinction, they have recovered enough to draw photographers each winter.

We rose at 5 a.m. to stand on the Otowa Bridge with tripods and cameras, waiting for the cranes to stir in the river below in the misty dawn light. It was a test of endurance in minus 10°C. I wore two pairs of gloves and used heat packs to protect my fingers from frostbite. Operating the camera felt like defusing a bomb in mittens.

Photographers braving the freezing temperatures on the Otowa bridge

Red-crowned cranes stirring on the Otowa river at dawn

Later that day, we photographed the cranes during their mating dances and again in the fading light as they returned to the river for the night.

Courtship displays of red-crowned cranes

Evening flight of red-crowned crane

Courtship displays red-crowned cranes

Cranes in Izumi, Kyushu

Hokkaido is not the only place where cranes gather in large numbers. Each winter, more than 10,000 birds arrive on the Izumi Plain in Kagoshima from Siberia and China.

When I visited with my friend Frank, we joined other photographers at the crane observation center before sunrise in strong winds and driving rain. Fortunately, the weather improved just in time. Thousands of cranes lifted into the morning sky before settling back into the fields to feed.

Thousands of cranes taking flight over the Izumi Plain

Hooded crane approaching the feeding site

White-naped cranes over the Izumi Plain

What these winter bird gatherings reveal

Photographing eagles on drift ice, cranes in the mist, and a fish owl at its feeding pond revealed a side of Japan that most visitors never see. These gatherings are both beautiful and carefully managed, and they have helped save some species from extinction.

At the same time, they raise important questions. What happens to species that do not receive this kind of support? How do they cope when food is scarce or when human activity reduces the resources they depend on?

In the next blog, I move from these choreographed winter spectacles to a harsher story of competition and survival—from brown bears on the salmon rivers of Shiretoko to seabirds and whales on Japan’s remote islands.

Joachim Theis: joachimtheis@gmail.com 

Instagram: @joa.wild