Eye-to-Eye with Wild Animals

Close encounters, moments of silent recognition, respect, and connection with wild animals in their natural habitat.

"For a wildlife photographer, what could be more magical than to suddenly become the one watched?” - Christof Müller

This portfolio 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

Underwater photo taken with a 8-15 mm wide-angle lens of a humpback whale mother in Silver Bank, between Turks and Caicos and the Dominican Republic, with her calf above and a male whale in the background. — n 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.

Underwater photo of Atlantic spotted dolphins near Pico, Azores, approaching snorkelers before disappearing into the open ocean. — Curious Atlantic spotted dolphins off Pico, Azores — circling, clicking, then vanishing into the blue. (@24 mm EWA-Marine UW case)

To encounter dolphins beneath the surface is to feel both wonder and humility. Off Pico in the Azores, a pod of Atlantic spotted dolphins circled us, their ultrasonic clicks reverberating through the water — a reminder that here, we were the ones under observation. For a fleeting time they lingered, curious yet in control, before slipping away into the vast blue. What remained was not only the encounter, but the echo of being measured and acknowledged by wild beings in their own realm.

A gray whale calf surfaces beside a boat in Baja California, Mexico, where a person reaches out to touch its head while another looks on; the calf approaches willingly as its mother observes nearby. — Curious gray whale calf in Baja California, approaching a boat and inviting gentle touches under the watchful eye of its mother.

In the lagoons of Baja California, Mexico, the gray whales — especially the newborn calves — reveal a striking curiosity. They approach the small boats filled with whale watchers from all over the world, peering at the humans and sometimes even inviting a touch. Many calves seem to relish the gentle strokes and scratches, rolling and lingering at the surface. Whether such close contact is truly good for these magnificent marine mammals remains an open question. What is clear, however, is that the encounters happen on the whales’ own terms. They choose to approach, while the ever-watchful mothers keep a cautious eye on the interactions from a short distance.

Nearness without Fear

Within the reach of a Grizzly bear

Close-up portrait of a young grizzly bear in Southeast Alaska, looking directly toward the viewer with curiosity. Its wet, brown fur blends warmly with the golden forest background, creating a sense of closeness and connection in the wild. — 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.

The Tongass National Forest in Southeast Alaska is the largest national forest in the United States, stretching across most of the region and embracing the famous Inside Passage. Its name comes from the Tlingit people who have lived here for generations. In certain places, the forest offers rare opportunities to observe the magnificent brown bears in their natural habitat. Pack Creek, near Windfall Harbor on Admiralty Island, is one such site — a sanctuary where the bears move undisturbed by human presence, allowing visitors to witness their true behavior. Park rangers ensure that strict rules are followed, so the balance between people and wildlife is respected. This is their domain, and it is no coincidence that the Tlingit named the island Kootznoowoo — the ‘fortress of the bears.’

The Gentle Gaze of the "Presidential Elephants"

Photograph of the eye-to-eye “Presidential Elephants” in Hwange National Park, Zimbabwe. with a 60 mm lens on a ¾ sensor captures a detailed close-up of a male elephant’s eye. — Eye-to-eye encounter with Hwange’s “Presidential Elephants” — an intimate close-up @ 60 mm (¾ sensor) photo not cropped!

Carved in time and reflected in the gaze of this male elephant lies the memory of a close encounter in Zimbabwe’s Hwange National Park. Known as the “Presidential Elephants,” these giants approached our vehicle with a calm yet commanding presence, leaning in as if to measure who we were. From just a breath away, the elephant’s eye revealed both gentleness and an untamed power — a reminder that in such moments, control belongs entirely to the animal, not to us.

Close encounters with Hwange’s “Presidential Elephants” — wide-angle views at 18 mm

The two additional photographs to illustrate how near the elephants came, moving alongside and in front of our car, their immense bodies filling the night and the day. These images frame the intimacy of the close-up: the eye becomes not just a detail, but the essence of an encounter where distance dissolved and respect became the only possible response.

White Rhinos

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.

Photograph of a white rhinoceros grazing at the Waterberg Plateau in Namibia, taken with a 150 mm lens. The rhino, together with its family and under the watch of guardians, tolerated close human presence, offering a rare glimpse into its daily life. — White rhinoceros at Waterberg Plateau, Namibia — observed calmly at close range with 150 mm focal length.

This white rhinoceros male, together with its family — a female and a calf — at Namibia’s Waterberg Plateau, accompanied day and night by guardians, allowed us to approach on foot at close distance. Far from aggression, they observed us with calm tolerance, granting us a glimpse into their daily existence and permitting us, for a brief while, to share their world.

Since I had not expected such closeness and was carrying my telephoto zoom set at its lowest focal length of 150 mm, I even had to step back in order to capture the male rhinoceros in full frame.

Photograph of a hippopotamus in the Kazinga Channel, Uganda. The hippo surfaces near a boat, opening its mouth wide while keeping one eye fixed on the observers. Known as one of Africa’s most dangerous animals, it tolerated the close presence. — Hippo in the Kazinga Channel, Uganda — close to our boat, watchful and aware (photographed at 200 mm).

On the Kazinga Channel in Uganda, a hippo surfaced close to our boat, its massive jaws wide in a display that was as much a signal as a spectacle. It kept one eye fixed on our presence, reminding us that we were only tolerated guests in its realm. Hippos are among Africa’s most dangerous animals, yet in this moment, there was no charge, no aggression — only a watchful awareness. It was a brief allowance, a reminder that even the most formidable creatures may grant us a glimpse of their world, as long as we respect the distance they set.

Old African bull elephant standing calmly on a dirt road near Victoria Falls, photographed at close distance with a 70 mm lens. — Old African bull elephant near Victoria Falls, photographed at close distance with a 70 mm lens.

To stand eye to eye with such a giant is to feel both infinitely small and deeply connected. His massive frame carried no menace, only the calm certainty of a life well lived, as if to remind me that true strength has no need to prove itself. I was so close that the picture was taken at 70 mm without any cropping — a nearness that allowed me to sense his presence in full, a fragile trust that held space for awe, respect, and gratitude before he quietly retreated back into his world.

Eyes of the Forest

Portrait of a female mountain gorilla (Gorilla beringei beringei) in Uganda’s Bwindi Impenetrable Forest, photographed with a 200 mm lens. The close-up shows her dark fur and expressive eyes. — Close encounter in Bwindi Impenetrable Forest — a female mountain gorilla (Gorilla beringei beringei) watches with quiet intensity, captured at 200 mm.

In the depths of Uganda’s Bwindi Impenetrable Forest, I found myself a guest in the hidden world of mountain gorillas. This portrait of a female reveals more than her physical presence; it carries the quiet intensity of a being aware of my nearness. Her eyes seem to hold a trace of uncertainty — not human emotions, but the alertness of a wild animal weighing the moment. To witness her so closely was not to enter her life, but to acknowledge it: fragile, powerful, and entirely her own.

Female mountain gorilla in Bwindi Impenetrable Forest, Uganda, turning her back to shield her baby. The pose reflects a natural protective instinct, reminiscent of Jean Piaget’s idea of object permanence. — Protective Mountain gorilla mother in Bwindi — shielding her infant with quiet caution.

The mother gorilla to the left turns her back, "shielding her infant from view". It is as if by not seeing me, she believes I cannot see her baby — a behavior reminiscent of what Jean Piaget described in young children before they fully develop “object permanence.” Like a child closing their eyes and whispering, “You can’t see me now,” this simple gesture reveals both caution and care, a quiet strategy of protection deep within the forest.

The Silverback, called Agasha, in Rwanda’s Volcanoes National Park makes it unmistakably clear who is in charge. With calm authority, he surveys everything, controlling the rhythm of the group and the space around him. Even the park rangers take their cues from his behavior, guiding us visitors according to his signals.

Portrait of Agasha, a dominant Silverback gorilla in Volcanoes National Park, Rwanda. Sitting upright, he surveys his surroundings with calm authority, guiding both his group and the park rangers who interpret his signals for visiting humans. — Agasha, the Silverback of Volcanoes National Park — calm authority in the heart of the forest.

Tiny souls but brave hearts

Photograph of a Damara dik-dik in Namibia, taken with a 200 mm lens and lightly cropped. This tiny antelope, normally very shy, appeared close by in the early morning — Damara dik-dik in Namibia — a shy morning visitor at breakfast (200 mm, lightly cropped).

It is not only the great giants who have granted us a glimpse into their lives. Sometimes it is the smaller, usually shy creatures who draw near and share their presence without fear. Like this little Damara dik-dik in Namibia, who visited us at breakfast one early morning, offering a moment of quiet attention.

Blue Tit bird standing on a person’s fingers and pecking at a sandwich in Tenerife’s Masca Valley, photographed close-up with a 105 mm lens. — An uninvited lunch guest in Tenerife’s Masca Valley — a fearless Blue Tit, captured at 105 mm, perched on my fingertips.

I had no intention of sharing my sandwich during a long hike through Tenerife’s Masca Valley. I never like to feed wild animals with our food, nor did I want to attract this little visitor. But the blue tit had no hesitation at all — it perched lightly on my fingertips, bold and fearless, and claimed a taste of my lunch as if it had always belonged there. Though unintended, I still want to show this moment, as it reveals how animals can lose their shyness when they sense no danger from humans — a fleeting, intimate connection, uninvited yet unforgettable.

You are not welcomed!

I close this portfolio with a photograph from Costa Rica’s Corcovado National Park, where two capuchin monkeys made their stance unmistakable: my presence was not welcomed. Their warning reminds me that encounters in the wild are not mine to claim, but gifts briefly granted — and just as easily withdrawn. At such times, the only respectful response is retreat, leaving the forest to those whose lives are rooted within it. Captured at 170 mm and only lightly cropped, this image stands as a final reminder: true closeness lies not in intrusion, but in honoring distance.

“In meeting the eyes of the wild, I learned that recognition is a gift, and retreat is respect.” — Christof Müller