85 Of The Best Wildlife Photos From The Nature Photographer Of The Year Contest (2016–2025)

Beneath the lush canopy of Bwindi Impenetrable Forest in Uganda, I observed a young female mountain gorilla from the Binyindo family gently nestled against the protective bulk of a silverback. The atmosphere was serene, filled with the soft sounds of the forest, until a sudden burst of delicate color broke through the calm.

An unexpected visitor, a vibrant butterfly, appeared out of nowhere, fluttering through the air. Captivated, the young gorilla’s eyes widened, and a beautiful interaction began to unfold. I held my breath, waiting for the butterfly to drift closer, knowing the image would only hold its power if the two were captured together. Patiently, I tracked its graceful movements until, at last, it entered the same frame as the gorilla’s face. In that fleeting alignment, where wild strength met fragile beauty, I pressed the shutter. My heart raced quietly as I realized how rare and precious the moment was, an instant that united them in a shared world of curiosity.

As the butterfly circled the gorilla, it seemed to embody the delicate balance and fragile interconnectedness of our natural world. This photograph captures not just the gorilla’s gentle curiosity but also a brief moment where two creatures paused, noticing each other, bound by wonder and discovery.

Some of Africa’s most fascinating animals are not its largest, but its smallest warriors. Among them, the honey badger (Mellivora capensis) has earned a reputation for unmatched courage and determination. Despite its modest size, this fearless predator can fend off much larger adversaries, often attacking with surprising aggression and stamina. Protected by exceptionally tough skin and a natural resistance to bites and stings, honey badgers have the tools to survive encounters that would doom most other animals. Yet, as with all creatures, youth and inexperience can tip the scales, making young individuals especially vulnerable to apex predators such as lions.

It was early one morning on the open plains near Lake Ndutu, in the southern Serengeti ecosystem, that I witnessed a dramatic and rare confrontation between these two iconic species. A young lion, full of energy and curiosity, had managed to corner a honey badger. At first glance, the scene appeared almost playful: the lion pawing, circling, and testing its opponent, as if enjoying a game. But for the honey badger, the reality was far from a game. Exhausted, breathing heavily, and with limited options for escape, it summoned all its strength and ferocity in a desperate attempt to resist.

Watching the two locked in this uneven battle was a stark reminder of the harsh realities of the natural world. The honey badger’s legendary reputation for fearlessness was on full display; it snapped, lunged, and refused to submit, even in the face of overwhelming odds. The young lion, however, held the advantage in both size and stamina, gradually wearing its opponent down. This time, the outcome was clear: the lion prevailed, asserting dominance over one of Africa’s most resilient fighters.

Encounters like this highlight the constant struggle for survival on the savanna, where even the fiercest spirit cannot always overcome sheer strength. In the end, the bravery and tenacity of the honey badger serve as a powerful symbol of wild resilience, but they also remind us that courage alone is not always enough to defeat a much stronger adversary.

In September ’21 we went on a long-awaited trip to Chukotka and Wrangel Island. We sailed along the coast and covered more than 1200 miles of untouched landscapes, villages lost in time, spots with various fauna, and seas full of life. One day, bad weather was expected, so our captain approached a small island, Kolyuchin, to take shelter from the storm. Kolyuchin is known for the polar weather station that operated on it in Soviet times. Though the station was closed in 1992, the abandoned village still stands on the island. The stormy wind, rain, and neglected buildings on the rocky shores all made everything appear super surreal. Suddenly, we noticed movement in the windows of the houses. Someone took out some binoculars and we saw the heads of polar bears!

The fog, a place long deserted by people, and polar bears was the perfect setting. Bears are very curious by nature so they walked around houses, and checked every door, window, nook, and cranny. There were about 20 animals inside at the same time, mostly males. The females kept to the side with their cubs, closer to the shores of the island. The bears may look calm and sweet in these photos, but one must not forget that they are smart and incredibly powerful animals! As they probably thought the drone was some sort of bird, they did not let it out of their sight. Never one to miss a meal, they were probably ready to strike at any moment, even when seemingly chilling out on the grass!

I shot from a drone equipped with low-noise propellers to not disturb them. I was very careful and very patient, and let the bears slowly get used to the drone so that eventually I was able to get closer and closer. Bears are very curious and were probably intrigued by this ‘”weird-looking bird”, which was amazing for me as they looked right into the camera. I think that these images of the polar bears on Kolyuchin island are very timely, they are like snapshots of a premonition reflecting what could be in our not-so-distant future. The world as we know it is very fragile, and the current state of the world – from political conflicts and nuclear tension to the climate crisis – means that the end could very well be nigh. These things are real, and if they continue as they are, the outcome will be catastrophic.

The image was captured at the La Selva Biological Research Station in Costa Rica. It is part of a series of photographs I took of this mother and her offspring, a Three Toed Sloth. I spent a week with the pair as they moved from tree to tree, about one tree per day, capturing thousands of images in different weather and circumstances.

In this moment, a rain shower had just begun, and the mother covered her baby as it slept, cradled safely in her embrace.

This picture of Hoopoe was taken in Dubai from Al Qudra Lakes. I spend most of my weekends taking pictures of the birds in Al Qudra Lakes. I wanted to test my new Nikon Z8 camera. So, my friend and I traveled to the lake where I noticed a Hoopoe occasionally catching its prey in the air and at other times on the ground. Additionally, I observed that each time it caught a prey, it flew in the same direction to a nearby tree. I spent a few days photographing this bird, and when I got home and looked over the pictures, I got the idea to photograph the bird against a background with light and dark sides to represent the dark and light sides of existence. The following day, I arrived a little earlier at the same location and waited for the ideal shot to occur.

After spending few days in Borneo, I got this frame stuck in my mind. Firstly, to get this shot, I selected a tree that was located in the water so that I could get a good reflection of the sky and its leaves on the tree on the water surface. It created a mirror effect that made the photo look upside down. Then I climbed up on the tree and waited for hours. This is a regular path for the orangutans to cross to a small island on the other side. I was sure to get this frame if I would wait patiently. Hence I waited and waited for a long time and finally, I got this beautiful frame. This frame confuses the viewer at the first glance and that makes the photo unique. It was indeed a tough task but the end result paid it off in double fold.

Sea of Japan. Russia. North Primorye. Rudnaya bay.

The Giant Pacific Octopus (Enteroctopus dofleini) stands out strikingly from other octopus species. It is highly intelligent and almost person-like in its behavior. Underwater, I’ve encountered both aggressive octopuses that attempted to defend their territory and sociable ones that even demonstrated their hunting techniques.

Once, at a depth of 20 meters, I encountered an octopus lying calmly on the seabed. It noticed me, seemed to realize that I had seen it as well, and began to swim toward the surface. Naturally, I didn’t follow it.

In this instance, the reef wasn’t particularly deep, and the octopus wasn’t especially large, about 1.5 meters in arm span and weighing around 5-7 kg. During the day, they often attach themselves to the reef wall, blending in by mimicking its color, and they rest while occasionally snacking on leftovers from their nighttime hunts. On this occasion, upon noticing me, the octopus decided to flee, swimming away while I managed to capture a few photos.

I had originally hoped to return to South Africa in 2023 for another safari, but that didn’t pan out. However, a friend invited me to join her family in the Seychelles for a couple of weeks. Having never been before, I wasn’t quite sure what to expect in terms of wildlife photography. I reached out to the ICS (Island Conservation Society) team on the island and mentioned that I would be on Desroches Island for a couple of weeks. I offered to provide any photography services and get involved with any conservation projects while I was there. After working with the Giant Aldabra Tortoises, I was invited to join an early morning beach patrol to monitor bird species and track where turtles had come from the sea overnight to lay their eggs on the beach.

I had hoped to witness and photograph turtle hatchlings making their way to the sea as the sun rose. The hatchlings instinctively wait until the sand cools, indicating nighttime, when there’s less risk of predation. As the sun rises, they use its light to guide them to the sea and as far away from shore as possible, where predation is highest. Unfortunately, only around 1 in 1000 hatchlings survive to adulthood. Once they leave the nest, predators such as birds, ghost crabs, and fish pose a significant threat.

Ghost crabs are abundant on the beach, scavenging anything from fallen fruit and plants to decaying animals—and unfortunately, live turtle hatchlings. As I walked along the beach, I spotted several horned ghost crabs. One of them had something in its claws, and I realized it had caught one of the stragglers on its first journey to the sea. I immediately lay flat on the sand and switched my lens to a 300mm (600mm equivalent) prime. The crab was scuttling along the beach, dropping its prize and picking it up again. I waited patiently until it turned to face me, capturing the shot. Though it’s difficult to identify the species of the turtle, it was likely a critically endangered Hawksbill, which can be found around this remote island.

It was -20C, so cold that we were engulfed in dense frozen fog. We were driving to find a puma to photograph in a private ranch near Torres del Paine National Park in Chile. I asked our guide to stop at a beautiful vista of the famous Towers (Torres). We got out and I set up to photograph the dramatic spires nestled in frozen fog. When I was just about to take my landscape photo, a guanaco (Lama guanicoe) appeared over the crest of the hill, intruding on my pristine setting.

I waited for a few minutes to see if the animal might leave, but soon another one appeared, and then several more. Making a virtue of necessity, I thought about how the guanacos could complement the landscape. Zooming out to include the foreground, I took a series of pictures as the guanacos approached.

I had owned several llamas (the domesticated descendants of guanacos), so I was familiar with their behavior. I could tell that the animals were not stressed as we stayed still on the road. Indeed, the lead animal showed all the signs of being curious, just like llamas. As it approached, I waited for the moment that it balanced the rest of the scene and took this picture.

As often happens with wildlife photography, the moment was a mixture of preparation and luck (good and bad). The bad luck was that the previous day, I had dropped my main camera and fancy telephoto lens on the road, rendering both of them useless. I was prepared for such an event, with a backup camera body and a mid-range (70-200mm) lens. Unable to take closeup portraits or even detailed behavior images, I started to imagine compositions where the animal was a small part of a wider landscape. Having practiced this enforced perspective for a day, I was better prepared to react to the good luck of guanacos ‘spoiling’ my landscape photo.

The photo was taken during a night dive almost near my house – this place is called Malatapay (Negros Island, Philippines). I was on my way back when I spotted a pair of Shy Crabs during mating season. The depth is only 3 meters but the tank was almost empty and I had to save air. A pair of crabs formed an almost perfect circle with their bodies and my idea was to use optical snoot to highlight them without getting light on the bright sand, which in turn is backlit from behind. The crabs were not very willing to pose and were moving fast, but I still managed to capture the shot just as they started to burrow into the sand. I often shoot these funny crabs because their body shape and face are very expressive. That day I took my best shot.

I made this picture on early morning in Torres del Paine National Park in Chile (chilean Patagonia, Magallanes and Chilean Antarctica region). The Scream of Pain is a testament of how human carelessness can destroy an environment, even a protected one. In 2011 due to the negligence of a tourist, a fire started and 17,600 hectares were burned.

As a freelance photographer, I traveled to Chilean Patagonia to do some reports on the fire, I toured the Park, shocked seeing the devastation. I was surrounded by the silence between ashes and the remains of some dead animals. On a slope I felt the cries of a guanaco (Lama guanicoe, characteristic animal of the area). Withy my camera in my hand I hurried to discover what was happening and there it was; a guanaco shouting to the horizon in search of his family or herd, a cry that never got answered.

A terrifying scene for the small fish, fleeing for their lives as a striped marlin hunts them. Here, the slightest mistake means life or death as the marlin’s bill slices through the water during a high speed hunt. These fish have very little respite, as birds try to hunt from above and more than a dozen other marlin and sea lions all attacking the same small ball of fish. Marlin are one of the fastest fish in the world, a terrifying predator for a small fish in the great blue desert.

I took this photo in the Pacific Ocean off the coast of Baja, California, Mexico. A friend of mine had told me about the marlin aggregation where Marlin and Sea lions hunt together, bringing small fish up from the depths and corralling them into a ball near the surface. The marlin can turn their stripes on and off, which might be used to communicate when hunting. These bait fish stand very little chance of survival as more marlin and sea lions join the feast picking them off one by one. Watching animals hunt is one of the greatest spectacles in nature, as the line between life and death comes down to millimeters and fractions of seconds.

I spent 3 days to document these hunts and capture the visceral realities of life in the ocean. During my time in the water I watched many little mackerels and sardines being hunted, and even speared by the marlin’s bill. From afar, this struggle can look serene and peaceful as the baitfish move like a river, so I wanted to show the intensity up close, and to try and capture the relationship between the predator and the prey. This meant I had to get a little closer without getting in the way, and be ready if the opportunity came about. When I was close I could really feel the panic of these little fish, desperate to survive. If I got too close for too long, the fish would seek protection from me. To avoid this and not disturb the natural behavior, there were a a couple times that I had to dive down and away from the bait ball. Typically, there was no hope for these little fish, and every last one of them would be hunted. When it was all done, all that would be left were shiny scales as the Marlin and Sea lions disappeared back into the blue.