A tiger emerging from the shadows of Jim Corbett National Park, India—framed by forest, light, and adrenaline.

We had spent three days exploring Jim Corbett National Park, hoping to photograph tigers in the wild. While we saw a few cats, sightings were limited.

But one moment stood out… one of those rare, hold-your-breath encounters.

We had just watched a tiger disappear into the forest. Our guide, reading the land like a book, believed the cat would cross the field and emerge on the far side. He took us to a small road and parked. Engine off. Total silence.

We sat there, scanning—in front of the vehicle, behind us, left, right—wondering where the cat would appear.

I admit, I was not happy that the guide turned the vehicle off, what if the cat emerged far away.

We needed to be ready to go.

The air was hot. The sun was high. Time stretched.

It felt like forever.

I checked my settings. Rechecked them. Then checked again. This was going to be my first wild tiger, and I didn’t want to blow it.

I was shooting fast—1/2000 shutter speed—because in a forest like this, with such diverse wildlife, I wanted to be ready for anything: a tiger, a chase, a bird of prey bursting through the canopy.

But I worried my ISO might be too low, especially with the shadows shifting in the trees.

Then, finally—movement. Less than 50 yards out, I saw it. A rustle in the undergrowth. A flash of orange and black.

I whispered: “He’s here… HE IS RIGHT HERE!”

I was almost in shock at how spot on the guide was. We were so close.

We all raised our cameras.
And fired.

I snapped frame after frame, hoping—praying—that my focus would lock, that the light would hold, that something would come out.

Camera Settings:

Camera: Canon R5
Lens: RF100-400mm
Shutter Speed: 1/2000
Aperture: f/5.6 (or your actual setting)
ISO: 800
Notes: Natural light, with some forest shadows in the mid-morning heat

The Challenge:
The waiting. The guessing. The light. The uncertainty of where the cat would emerge—and whether I’d be ready when it did.

Why It Matters:
It wasn’t a dramatic charge. It wasn’t a perfect composition. But it was my first tiger in the wild, and it taught me what this kind of photography is really about: presence, patience, and preparation.

Lessons I Learned:

Trust the local knowledge.
Our guide called the tiger’s movement like he was reading a script. His understanding of the terrain and animal behavior put us exactly where we needed to be. Local knowledge is gold.
Don’t wait for perfect conditions—be ready for imperfect ones.
I was worried about my settings not being right, but the moment wasn’t going to wait. Sometimes you just have to shoot through the shadows and make peace with the grain.
Repetition breeds readiness.
I had checked my settings three, maybe four times before the tiger appeared. It felt obsessive—but when the moment came, I wasn’t fumbling. That habit saved the shot.