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↑ Catalonia, Spain One of the species I’ve worked with the most, due to the complexity of their flight, is the starling. After sunset, these birds usually gather to roost, whether in cities or wetlands, and in this case, a reed bed. When a falcon appeared at that moment, the starlings reacted with this hypnotic and extraordinarily complex flight that leaves no one unmoved.
The Art of Making Flight Visible
Words and Images by Xavi Bou
Since I was a child, I’ve been fascinated by the sky, not just by the clouds or the changing light, but by the living choreography that unfolds above us. Sometimes chaotic, sometimes perfectly synchronized, bird flight has always held my attention.
Over time, that fascination grew into a need to understand and reveal what we cannot usually see.
That’s how the “Ornithographies” was born, a project built around a simple question: What shape does a bird’s flight take? Not a single frame frozen in time, but the full trajectory of movement. To answer this, I use a technique inspired by 19th-century chronophotography, adapted to the digital tools of today. I film with high-resolution video cameras that record in slow motion, using the best equipment available to me at each moment. From those recordings, I extract hundreds or thousands of frames and merge them using an algorithm I developed. The algorithm isolates and overlays the bird’s motion, preserving the background untouched. This is how “Ornithographies” emerged, a name drawn from the Greek: ornis, bird, and graphia, drawing.

With this project, I didn’t just want to show the beauty of flight; I wanted to connect with something deeper. In recent years, many studies have highlighted how birdwatching can benefit mental health. Looking up, following the flight path of a common urban species like a blackbird or wood pigeon, becomes a form of mindfulness. Ornithology, even in its most everyday form, helps us be present, disconnect from a frenetic pace, and reconnect with the here and now, and most importantly, nature.

By making the invisible visible, “Ornithographies” strengthens that bond. It encourages us to pay attention to what surrounds us and rediscover what we take for granted. We don’t need to go far to find wonder — just look up. The sight of an ordinary city flock, through this lens, becomes a window into animal behavior and a renewed awareness of our relationship with nature. This approach, rooted in the everyday and the familiar, is an invitation to value what we have and protect what remains.
This realization was the moment a new world opened for me. My job became curating the most interesting choreographies of birds and revealing them, from the ripple of a gull’s wings frozen into airborne waves to vultures spiraling on thermal currents like ribbons in a whirlpool.

One of the species that has impacted me most is the swift. These birds live almost entirely in the air — they eat, sleep, and even mate in flight. They rarely land. Capturing their traces in the sky feels like following the signature of an artist who never touches the canvas. Their flight is fast, curving, and erratic, producing hypnotically complex visuals. I’m always amazed by their aerial life.

Starlings offer another unique spectacle. Their murmurations of vast flocks undulating at dusk form patterns that resemble fluid waves. It’s a defensive behavior, but also a form of natural art, as no two formations are alike. The images born from these flights evoke clouds, smoke, art, and even imagined architectures.

Crows fascinate me for different reasons. Known for their intelligence, they fly with a certain freedom, gliding, diving, and performing aerial acrobatics. I’ve watched them play in thermal updrafts, shifting direction without purpose, as if they simply enjoy the act of flying. When translated into images, their paths become spontaneous dances that are full of energy.

I see my work as that of a curator searching for these fleeting aerial choreographies that usually go unnoticed and giving them form. In many ways, my work bridges science and art. I collaborate with ornithologists to better understand the species I photograph. I hope my images spark wonder but also raise questions: What kind of bird is this? Why does it fly like that? How does its environment shape its movement?

The goal of my art is clear: to foster an emotional connection with nature. When we learn to observe, a sense of empathy arises, even one that can inspire action. Not everyone will become an activist or a scientist, but all of us can be allies in conservation if we develop a personal bond with the natural world.


In my most recent project, Fluctus, I focus on another element of beauty in birds. This time to explore not their trajectories but their morphology and coloration. I photograph birds at the very moment of takeoff, from a top-down perspective and at life size. This allows us to see their structure in unprecedented detail: the symmetry, the patterns, the anatomical features that make each unique. The work involves close collaboration with ornithologists and wildlife rescue centers, adding an ethical dimension to the project.
Both projects, though distinct, share the same purpose: to discover new ways of observing and to celebrate the biodiversity that surrounds us.
After all these years, I’ve come to realize that what I’m really doing is building a kind of contemporary catalogue of curiosities and an archive of natural movements that often go unnoticed. Each image becomes part of this visual collection, not to highlight the rare or exotic, but to reveal the wonder of the familiar.

Along this journey, I’ve learned that technology, when used thoughtfully, can help us perceive what is usually unnoticed. But what shifts our understanding isn’t the tool. It’s the way we see. What changes perception is not the algorithm but the intention behind our gaze.
To those just beginning or considering a similar path, my advice is simple. Choose a subject you’re passionate about, research it deeply, and find your perspective. It’s not about the best gear or faraway locations. It’s about being present, observing carefully, and having the patience to tell a story honestly.

I hope that this work encourages others to look up, pause, and discover that even the ordinary is filled with beauty and complexity. Because every species matters, every flight is unique, and every image can be the beginning of a new way to see and protect our planet.
See more of Xavi Bou’s work at www.xavibou.com.

2025.04
Table of Contents
- Surprises in Camera Trapping with Wolves in Alaska
- Using Adobe Lightroom to Enhance Landscapes
- Fighting to Save Scarlet Macaws in the Maya Biosphere Reserve
- National Geographic Pioneer David Doubilet Reflects on a Lifetime in the Ocean
- The Art of Making Flight Visible
- The Hidden Crisis of Animal Exploitation
- A Portfolio of the Animal Kingdom's Strongest Bonds
- Pangolin Populations Withering Worldwide
- Photographic Observations from Death Valley National Park
- King Penguin Chicks Keeping Warm