For thirty years, I have called Japan home, my camera almost an extension of my body as I’ve traversed its landscapes and chased the light in pursuit of the perfect light and subjects. My name is Blain Harasymiw, and as a professional master photographer, I’ve learned that patience, preparation, and a bit of luck are the ingredients for capturing rare moments in nature. As for wildlife, a few birds have captured my heart and imagination more than the elusive Ruby Kingfisher (Halcyon coromanda). Over 700 bird species have been recorded in Japan, and 60% of them are migratory. There are a handful of these birds that get my blood pumping. One is the Steller’s sea eagle, which needs no introduction. They are the largest raptors on our planet, and annually, I lead Hokkaido photo tours to spot and photograph them.

The Ruby Kingfisher is a jewel in the world of birds, that I am currently tracking and photographing in the northern Japan Alps in the deep backcountry—small and vibrant, barely larger than a human hand, with iridescent plumage that seems to shimmer between scarlet and ruby in the dappled light of the forest. The ruddy kingfisher is a medium-sized tree kingfisher native to eastern and southeastern Asia.

A quick breakdown of its size and weight:

Length: 25 to 27 cm (\(10\) to \(11\) inches) from beak to tail.

Wingspan: 40 to 46 cm (\(16\) to \(18\) inches).

Weight: 60 to 92 grams (\(2\) to \(3.2\) oz), with males slightly larger on average (around \(73\) to \(80\) grams). [1, 2, 3] Each spring, these enigmatic birds migrate to Japan, drawn by the abundance of frogs and insects that fill the mountain streams and forest undergrowth. This seasonal bounty is essential for their breeding season, and it is during these months that the Ruby Kingfisher makes its rare appearance in these remote woods.

Spotting and photographing the Ruby Kingfisher is a challenge even for the most seasoned wildlife photographers. As forest dwellers, they flit through the dense canopy, their calls echoing ahead while their bodies remain hidden in the shadows. Their small size and quick, darting movements make them an almost mythical subject—one that many birders and photographers hope to catch a glimpse of, but few ever truly capture.

Last year, I had already dedicated June and July to exploring the deep backcountry of the northern Japan Alps, determined to spot and photograph these elusive birds. My preparations were meticulous: researching migration patterns, studying maps, and preparing and packing gear for long, patient days in the wild. And for this expedition, there are no hotels. I have chosen to camp, but with a touch of luxury, I choose the Snowpeak Living Shell Long Pro. This shelter is four seasons, which also has an inner tent that sleeps four, and plenty of room for my office, and cooking indoors when it's rainy, oh yeah, it’s the rainy season in Japan, and right now it’s pouring buckets. Another important piece of gear I chose was the Anker Solix C2000 Gen 2 Portable Power Station and the SOLIX PS200 Portable Solar Panel 200W, so my power needs are all met. All the other gear, such as MSR stoves, Coleman lanterns, tables and chairs, sleeping bag and mats, basic camp tarp, Trango 4 mountain hardwear tent for those remote campsites I already had, including the “mighty duck tape”, can’t go on an adventure without that. My mode of transport is the Toyota Hilux GR Sport 2.4 Diesel Four Wheel Drive truck. I was going to use my Toyota Land Cruiser 250 ZX Diesel, but I felt the truck was the better choice. My current campsite is in a national park with its own hot spring, and each of the base camps I have chosen this summer has a hot spring to soak in after long days in the field.

Back to Birding

I expected a long wait, perhaps weeks, before even a fleeting encounter.

Yet, just a couple of days into my journey, I hit pay dirt. The forest came alive with the soft, metallic calls of the Ruby Kingfisher, and in a flurry of excitement, I managed to spot not one, but several, darting between the mossy branches and over crystal-clear streams. Over the past two days, I milked the spot, capturing over 5,000 images and nearly 30 minutes of high-quality video footage—each frame a testament to the planning, patience and passion for wildlife. The images speak for themselves. In some way, I kinda feel bad for the frogs, but nature is nature. And I always say anyone can photograph a bird in a tree, but it’s those action shots that give them personality and authenticity.

For the next week or two, I’ll remain at this special location, continuing to observe and document the Ruby Kingfishers as they settle into their breeding routines. Then, I’ll move on to another remote part of the Alps, always seeking fresh perspectives and new encounters with these stunning birds.

In July, my adventure will gain new companions as fellow birders and clients join me on this quest. They, too, are drawn by the promise of photographing the Ruby Kingfisher—a bird that, for so many, remains a dream. Not to worry, we will have plenty of other wildlife to photograph. Together, we’ll share the quiet thrill of the camaraderie of early mornings and late evenings, and, with any luck, the magic of witnessing the Ruby Kingfisher in its mountain sanctuary. And by July, I should have scouted out at least a half a dozen sanctuaries that the Ruby call home from Spring to September. From mid-September to October, they migrate to Wintering & Resident Ranges: Tropical regions extending southwards through the Philippines, Indochina, Malaysia, Indonesia (Borneo, Sulawesi, Sunda Islands), and into Bangladesh.

The story of the Ruby Kingfisher is one of migration, survival, and beauty. For me, it’s not just about the bird, but also about my connection to Japan, to the wild places I camp in, and to the people I meet who share this passion. Every adventure—setting up camp, hiking through the forest, and waiting quietly for that flash of red—reminds me why I love this journey. As long as the Ruby Kingfisher returns to these mountain forests, I’ll be here too, camera ready, excited for whatever comes next.

Hokkaido 2027, a couple of spots have just opened, book now.

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