Now here's an article addressed to myself, a reminder to watch what I say. These days my fingers far to fast, hitting the enter button. I was recently invited to join a group on Face Book, that encourages you to upload photos taken at Rietvlei Dam, a five thousand hectare plot of land, managed by the Game Department and stocked with wild life.

This dam forms part of the water supply for Pretoria, the Administrative Capital of my country South Africa. It is a haven for a variety of birds and these are the photos most published on the site. As I am staying a mere three kilometres away from the dam I often pop in early morning, when it's best for bird photos. A few days ago when I went to the park, a favourite spot been occupied by a VW Combi bus, with a large fellow behind the steering wheel. It's on a bridge and either he or I had to reverse so that the other could pass. Felt a bit like Friar Tuck and Robin fame, but he was most obliging.

As I passed, I gave a greeting and got one in return, so I couldn't have upset a photo shot, my biggest fear. In passing I noticed his camera kit, a lens as long as my arm and as thick as my leg, and I'm no small fry either, so this was serious stuff taking place. I proceeded on to my second spot of choice, got some good shots and returned hoping he had moved on. He hadn't, and as I crept upon his rear he spotted me and once more moved.

I waved a hand of greeting and thanks, and took another extended ride, finding the Rhino and other antelope which I took photos of. I returned and he was gone, my luck, a Giant King fisher pop down in front of me as I stopped and posed for the camera. I took about 10 frames and it dived down and returned to the same spot with a crab, a big one. How lucky could I be? The camera screamed as I held the shutter button taking three frames per second. I realised that some would be blurred from my excitement and hand shake, but knew many would be perfect.

Little thought was given to camera settings, I'd be able to manipulated them later with computer programs. The Kingfisher beat the crab to death on the ground and kept smashing till all the legs came off, then swallowed it whole. I charged off and found a spot to stop and check the shots, Oh they were so good. Returning to the spot I found this man again, I had to tell some one of my luck and he was handily placed. Explaining my luck, he told me he was there for the Malachite Kingfisher, the smallest that you get, yet the most colourful.

I rushed home leaving him with words of luck in his quest, to down load and check my photos. They were good and I posted on the site for all to see. Two hours later a photo of a Malachite appeared. I had to comment and asked if he was the man in the VW Combi. Someone else came up, who obviously knew him, and commented that he did own one. In my excitement, I asked if the owner was a big lad, that looked like “one of the seven dwarfs that had eaten the other six?” The commenter came back immediately, a laugh or those squiggles that tell you so, with a retort that yes and a dog or two also.

This made no sense to me till I reread my post, how could I have been so insensitive with a comment like that, and now there an answer, I could hardly cut it. This guy was big and if he had no sense of humour I'm in trouble, I thought. It was not long before he appeared with a comment on my photo, he said he realised who I was now from my photo. Was this good news or not? His comment read “greetings, from one big lad to another” thank God for that, he had not taken umbrage at my insensitive referral to him eating six dwarfs. Did I look that big to him? my thought.

It taught me once more to engage my brain before my mouth as well as before my fingers commenting. A change of foot would help the cause, it's merely the speed by which I change them.