"For a wildlife photographer, what could be more magical than to suddenly become the one watched?”
- Christof Müller -
This section is dedicated to rare moments of encounter between human and animal in the wild. Not from hides, camouflage, or staged settings, but in open space — where the animal became aware of me, and we acknowledged each other.
What I seek to portray is not spectacle or possession (what is called "going viral" nowadays), but respect: respect for free-roaming beings whose presence shapes the planet we share. Their approach is never provoked or lured, but always on their own terms — sometimes curious, sometimes cautious, sometimes only briefly tolerant.
Most photographs were taken with a lens no longer than 200 mm on a full-frame sensor, often with far less, and without heavy cropping. The focal length is therefore given for every picture, to underline the closeness of the moment.
Among these encounters are also those with animals whose sheer size, perceived “dangerousness,” or the remoteness of their realm — such as the depth of the ocean — make them all the more extraordinary: the powerful rhino, the graceful dolphin, the whale that disappears with a single stroke of its fluke.
I do not assign human (anthropomorphic) feelings to these creatures, for their lives are their own. Yet among the encounters I experienced, I have chosen those few where I felt a mutual awareness — not indifference, not absence, not the attraction of food — but a recognition that bridges the boundary between species, when two beings meet eye to eye in freedom.
The Gentle Giants of the Sea
In the protected waters of Silver Bank, a humpback mother swims with her calf above, while a male follows in the background captured @ 8-15 mm wide underwater lens.
A unique moment in my life — even if this image, scanned from a slide taken in 1995, is not any longer of the highest quality. It shows a humpback whale cow in the Silver Bank, captured during a rare chance to swim with these giants. The whales observed us, the human “intruders,” with striking awareness. Despite their immense size, they moved with extraordinary care, extending their long pectoral fins as if to brush against us without causing harm. Even the pull of the water stirred by their flukes could be felt — a reminder of their sheer power, knowing they could vanish into the depths with a single stroke. And yet, they allowed us a fleeting glimpse of their magnificence beneath the surface. In that moment, it was unmistakable: we were the ones being watched.
Nearness without Fear
Curious young grizzly in Southeast Alaska — a fleeting moment of recognition, where wild strength meets quiet warmth. @400 mm no cropping
A young grizzly bear in Southeast Alaska steps into my view, his gaze steady, curious, and aware of me and my group of photographers. For some time, he had already marked our presence, yet he remained absorbed in his own world — chasing salmon without success, then turning to the red berries that stained his snout — until this quiet moment of recognition unfolded. What strikes me most is not the power of the animal, but the warmth radiating from his presence. The deep, earthy browns of his coat melt seamlessly into the golden tones of the forest, as if the bear and his surroundings were one. This portrait is less about wilderness as something distant and more about a brief closeness — a reminder that even in the rawness of the wild, there can be moments of connection, dignity, and silent acceptance.
Some encounters balance between awe and caution — not fear, but a fragile trust that allows us to share the same space for a moment in time. Here are two encounters with species often regarded as “dangerous.” I would not deny that they can be — and with good reason, having evolved defensive behaviors toward humans. Yet everything depends on the moment and the context.
