I, Naturalist
A few years ago, I had an embarrassing realization: I wasn’t particularly good at identifying the birds I photographed. Sure, some were obvious — a great blue heron (Ardea herodias) isn’t easily confused. But once I zoomed in on sparrows or plovers, for example, things got murky fast. Field guides helped, but I needed something more dynamic. That’s when I found iNaturalist.
For nature photographers, iNaturalist is an absolute game-changer. Part field guide, part social network, and part biodiversity database, the platform uses AI to suggest species IDs based on photos and then enlists a global community of experts and enthusiasts to confirm them. When multiple users agree on an ID, the observation earns "Research Grade" status, contributing to biodiversity data used by scientists, conservationists, and land managers worldwide.
According to iNaturalist’s own stats, users have now uploaded more than 230 million observations across the globe. The platform has played a role in the discovery of new species, the rediscovery of ones thought extinct, and the education of citizen scientists like me. What started as a tool for curious hikers and naturalists has become a global resource for conservation.
On their website, they say it best: “Every observation can contribute to biodiversity science, from the rarest butterfly to the most common backyard weed.”
Over the years, I’ve catalogued my photography archive in Adobe Lightroom, tagging species with keywords and noting locations. But recently, I set out on a new challenge: to upload at least one image of every species I’ve photographed in the United States — most of them in California — to iNaturalist. So far, I’m closing in on 300.
This process has been eye-opening.
The deer I’d always called “mule deer”? They’re more precisely a subspecies known as Columbian black-tailed deer(Odocoileus hemionus columbianus).
The otters I love photographing along the Central Coast? Southern sea otters (Enhydra lutris nereis), not just “sea otters.” Equally, I’d been calling the river otters I see frequently “northern river otters,” but the correct name is North American river otters (Lontra canadensis).
That dragonfly I proudly labeled a common whitetail? Nope. It’s actually an eight-spotted skimmer (Libellula forensis).
Thankfully, I managed to accurately identify some of the smallest creatures I photographed, including arabesque orbweavers (Neoscona arabesca) and Johnson’s jumping spiders (Phidippus johnsoni). Others? Not so easy. The bumble bees I’ve photographed can only be narrowed down to the subgenus Probombus. A more specific ID would require, among other things, measuring their cheeks.
A fish I photographed while snorkeling sparked debate among users — either a wedge-tail triggerfish (Rhinecanthus rectangulus) or a lagoon triggerfish (Rhinecanthus aculeatus). And I learned that ocean sunfish are more accurately referred to as common mola (Mola mola).
And don’t even get me started on California tarantulas — even visitor centers at Mount Diablo offer multiple names. On iNaturalist, they’re most commonly recognized as desert tarantulas (Aphonopelma iodius).
What I love about iNaturalist is that it makes the process of learning collaborative, not competitive. I’m not trying to “win” at identification. I’m just trying to get better — to match the attention I give to composition and lighting with the same attention to what’s actually in the frame.
This project has deepened my appreciation for what I photograph. It’s easy to chase the dramatic — a soaring condor or a breaching whale — but every species has a story, and iNaturalist has helped me look more carefully.
Whether you're a biologist, a nature lover, or just someone curious about the world around you, I can’t recommend the app enough. It's free, it's easy to use, and every observation you submit becomes a data point in a much bigger picture.
So here I am, trying to name what I’ve seen. Not to check boxes, but to pay attention. To bear witness. To learn. Because it turns out, being a naturalist doesn’t just mean being out in nature — it means being open to it.