Sometimes a pun is so bad you have to go for it. I really apologize for that one, though.
Horrible jokes aside, these little terns were really good about being photographed. It was a chilly day at the beach in Florida. We'd managed to go during the coldest two-week period they'd had in decades, so the beaches were pretty barren and the birds were mostly huddled together for warmth. It was surprisingly easy to inch forward towards the birds until I got about 4 feet away from them, enough to fill the frame with them at 200mm.
This little guy was busily moving between big groups of gulls and terns like he had some really important business to be getting on with. I thought he was a baby gull at first, but later found out it was a plover (I also thought those terns were kingfishers; can you tell I live in a city?). He kept weaving in between birds four times his size at lightning speed, occasionally dipping his beak into the sand looking for whatever it is plovers are looking for in the sand. I like to think they're searching for buried treasure. Mostly because I think they'd look adorable with little eyepatches.
He moved so fast he even got into the foreground of a couple frames:
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