Finding My Way: A Journey to Wildlife Photography

by Donna Feledichuk October 26, 2024

As my work has evolved my style has evolved to be one focused on the vulnerability of the wildlife I experience

I’m preparing a presentation for an upcoming rural women’s conference next month, and when I asked one of the organizers what I should speak about, she said she loved hearing personal journeys. She shared how, at a previous event, a veterinarian captivated the audience by sharing their own path, inspiring her deeply. It clicked for me then—what better way to connect than by sharing my journey into photography with all of you?

The Ocean’s Call

As a child, I found myself drawn to the mysteries of the ocean although in all my life I never lived near one. I remember watching every National Geographic documentary I could find on TV and was rivted by Jacques Cousteau—back then, streaming services didn’t exist! From a young age, I was concerned about how little we knew about the depths of the ocean and, more importantly, how carelessly we treated it. That curiosity about nature’s secrets and a sense of responsibility to protect them never left me.

A coastal brown bear looks out into the ocean

Discovering Photography

Photography entered my life when I was 16, thanks to a cousin who was also into it. I picked up a camera, and we photographed anything that caught our eye—horses grazing on my aunt and uncle’s farm, sunsets, and wide-open landscapes. In my twenties, as I traveled through India, Europe, and North America, the camera became my constant companion. I captured the sights and the cultures I experienced.

Before I turned 30, I was married with three kids, and the camera’s role shifted to capturing family memories—birthdays, holidays, and vacations. Between raising children, working full-time, and pursuing graduate studies, my creative pursuits faded into the background. Drawing and painting had been lifelong passions, and I once dreamed of becoming a Disney illustrator. As I got older I grew from drawing cartoons characters to attempting to paint wildlife admiring the works of Robert Bateman (numerous of his prints hang in my home) and I tried painting his wiildlife scenes. But with kids in the house, setting up paints was a recipe for disaster, and the brushes were stored away for years.

A photo I took over 35 years ago when I had traveled to India. From the Kashmir region it is of a woman doing laundry at the river's edge.

The Turning Point

Fast forward a couple of decades—after earning a PhD and raising my children, I finally found time to revisit my love of painting. I bought new paints and set up a small studio. But this time, I wanted to create something original, not just replicate what I saw in books or magazines. That’s when it struck me—I needed to take my own reference photos.

I started small, photographing squirrels, deer, and moose close to home. My trusty Pentax camera, a brand I had used since my teens, accompanied me on these outings. Yet, the more I immersed myself in photographing wildlife, the more I realized that I didn’t want to return to the studio. Photography was becoming more than a means to an end—it was becoming my passion.

A watercolour painting of a moose I had made before I had children over 30 years ago

Learning to See Differently

Initially, I struggled to get that beautiful, creamy background—what photographers call bokeh. I thought it was all Photoshop magic! Shooting everything at f/22 (I did mention I started in photography as a teen shooting a lot of landscapes!) didn’t help. But as I dove into YouTube tutorials and photography blogs, I began learning about aperture and composition. Gradually, my skills improved, but were not by any means good. I was still working with a Pentax camera not known the abilitty to shoot numerous frames per second and struggled to capture tack sharp images of wildlife.

Eventually, after much debate, I made the difficult decision to switch to Canon. I still at time am nostalgic for the incredible colors that my Pentax could produce but the upgrade in sharpness and speed made a world of difference.

A photo taken while I was still figuring out how to take wildlife photos on my Pentax K-3 camera

Changing Perspectives

Spending more time in nature sharpened not only my technical skills but also my awareness of the wildlife around me. Living in Northern Alberta, I noticed how many people saw deer as nuisances and believed animals like bears, foxes, and coyotes were better off shot on sight. There were even bounties on beavers and coyotes in some areas. But I began to see the individual stories behind these animals—stories of survival, resilience, and adaptation.

That bear in the oats field wasn’t just ruining crops; she was a mother desperately trying to feed her cubs during a poor berry season. The coyote cutting across farmland wasn’t hunting chickens but rushing back to her den after hearing her mate’s distress call. The beavers tirelessly building dams in quiet forest streams were not causing harm but restoring and maintaining wetlands.

I wanted people to see wildlife differently—not as problems to be solved, but as beings with stories worth telling. Photography became my way to tell those stories, hoping to shift perspectives and spark empathy.

A photo taken in Alaska on my phototour with TinMan Lee which started me on journey to the discovery of my photography style

A New Chapter

I had come to an impasse at my day job and as if by serendipity at the moment a new email appeared in my inbox, One of the worlds leading wildlife photographers had a cancellation for a phototour and there was an open spot. I replied I wanted in instantly after reading it and I was signed up for a photography tour with Tin Man Lee. I had to dig deep into my savings but determined to elevate my work, and pursue my passion I decided to invest in myself. Those five days in the field with TinMan changed everything for me. I learned how to capture the emotion of the wildlife - the essence of their stories.

Even though I still work full-time, I dedicate my mornings and evenings to photography. Most weekends, you’ll find me driving backroads, hiking through the forest, or heading to remote locations in search of snowy owls or woodland caribou. Along the way, I’ve connected with biologists and delved deep into books and research articles, learning about the behaviors and habitats of the animals I photograph. As I learned about the wildlife I become better able to predict where and when to find them, read their behaviour to be in the right position to get the shot and become a student of light.

Capturing the beauty of a hunter at sunset as a great gray owl listens for voles in the grass below

The Rewards

As my skills improved the recognition followed. My work has been featured in Canadian Geographic, BBC Wildlife, and National Geographic Español, recognized in numerous prestigious national and international photocontest and harenking back to my childhood and my love of the ocean this past year I was asked to be a contributor for 100 for the Ocean along side over 20+ National Geographic photographers – the pinnacle of my career. Using my photography skills along side world renowned wildlife photographers to raise money for coean conservation.

The print I donated to the 100 for the Ocean fundraiser

Finding Your Path

If there’s one piece of advice I’d give anyone starting their creative journey, it’s this: follow your passion, no matter your circumstances. I’m closer to 60 than 50 now. A decade ago, I was hit by an 18-wheeler, leaving me with chronic back pain. Some days, I can hike for miles, and other days, I struggle to walk ten feet.

We farm, I still work a fulltime job, spend as much time as I can with my grandchildren, and slowly over the years I have bit by bit upgraded my gear. On good days, I hike mountain passes in search of bighorn sheep; on bad days, I photograph moose from the comfort of my car but always I am in pursuit of a story looking for an emotion to convey as my own soul is nourished in the process.

If you love something, find a way to do it. Nature has taught me that there’s beauty in persistence. Like the wildlife I photograph, we all find ways to survive and thrive—one step, one shot, and one story at a time.