The egrets, so beautiful. No matter what they are doing they look so elegant.
These guys? Not so much…
Category: nature
Rhythms….
When you wake up at 3:30 AM, and I mean WiDE awake, then you might find yourself bored before the sun comes up. Lots of times that’s how I wind up out for the sunrise. A different bridge on Sunday, and the only heron to be seen was the one in the tree in the distance. And as the sun came up the birds started flying over, and landing in unison on the wire. It’s a bit of a ritual it seems. That the natural world is proceeding as usual, following its rhythm, is comforting while we are adapting to this new normal.
The Lurker…
She arrived in the dark. “No, not just dark,” she thought, “The fog is rolling in.” “At least I’m alone,” another thought, and then she laughed at herself because there were plenty of no-see-ums arriving to keep her company. Or drive her crazy. She opened the back of the van and rummaged for the can of OFF that she kept there, and doused herself. There was a slight glow in the sky as she took a couple of pictures at the first bridge, her first stop, and then, anxious to get to the second bridge, her favorite, she moved on, .
It was darker there, foggier, even though she had driven only a minute up the road. She got out of the van and set up her camera. As she glanced around she looked to her left and caught a hint of a shape in the murk. Was it him, she wondered, hoped? She always looked for him when she came to this place. She used to see him every time she was here, but then he was gone, just gone. If she saw a fisherman she always asked if they had seen him, but they didn’t seem to know what happened to him either. She didn’t come as often as she used to, but still she always looked, and she was always disappointed. She aimed her camera in that direction, hurrying in case he disappeared into the gloom. “Of all days to come out without the zoom lens,” she lamented, mad at herself for choosing to grab the little camera only in her haste to get out the door. “Wait,” she thought, she could zoom with her phone, even if it didn’t take a sharp photo she’d be able to know for sure if it was him. She clicked a picture, but still wasn’t sure, she needed to put the photo into her computer when she got home. She crossed the road for a better angle, afraid she’d spook him, but he didn’t move as she took a few more pictures.
Then there was a voice, calling, “Hey Fred,” it said. He turned his head instantly, and then quickly moved toward the sound. “Hi Fred,” a man’s voice. She saw him in a pool of light from the street lamp, smiling as he tossed something to Fred. And now she was sure it was him. One-foot Fred was alive and well, she now knew for sure. The sunrise hadn’t been much, but she drove home smiling, happy that she had come out that morning after all. 
The iPhone shot…
Surprise…
I think Dad forgot that Mom was in the birdhouse, because I wasn’t the only one surprised when she suddenly launched herself out the door and off to who knows where. My view through the lens was this one, and the feature photo is the next one. Startled him right off his feet, and I didn’t see it until I looked at the pictures in the computer.
They got me excited yesterday. I happened to look out the window and Dad was on the drain spout with a nice little worm in his mouth. I immediately got excited that they were feeding babies, or at least he was feeding Mom while she was on some pretty blue eggs. But off she flew, and he gulped down his catch, and I was left scratching my head.
Mom was back and forth the rest of the day, but still bringing nesting materials. She did stop to pose for me though.
Dad’s contribution to all this was to sit on my TV antenna and serenade all of us while Mom was busy. All day. All day busy for her, all day as the singing supervisor for him. I guess it works for them…
And this is my new normal. Considering social isolation and the impending possibility of a new little bluebird family right on my doorstep, so to speak. Big heavy lens and big heavy tripod, in the living room, at the ready…
That kind of day…
When I proposed to my friend that we make a stop at Myakka River State Park while we were in the general area the other day, I had Roseate Spoonbills on my mind. I knew from other photographers’ pictures that they are sometimes found at that park, and I hoped to take a fabulous picture like the ones I’ve seen online. When we arrived the Ranger asked if we were looking for alligators, I told him no, we were hoping to see Spoonbills. He directed us to an area called the Weir, and we made that our first stop, but didn’t have any luck. We continued the drive through the park, and I also walked out onto the bird walk, hoping to see them there. I didn’t. We completed the drive but the north gate was closed so we headed back out the way we came in. The Weir was only a little out of the way so we made another stop, and as we were driving to turn around in the parking lot one flew into view and landed at the shoreline. This guy was quite cooperative, walking along the shore dipping his ‘spoon’ into the water and swinging his head back and forth. Their bill serves as a sieve to capture their lunch. And when he was nearly out of sight he turned around and came back. I wasn’t able to get the picture that I hoped to get, the one I imagined, but I felt lucky to have seen this guy at all. Sometimes you make a plan for a day and all the pieces fall into place. It was that kind of day.
Venice egrets…
Egrets are such beautiful birds. They seem to be graceful and elegant all the time. Well, except for when they are feeding their young, then it seems like they take their life in their hands. Err, beaks.
While I can take pictures of egrets just a couple of minutes from home, it’s impossible to resist taking pictures of them no matter where you find them.
