Long-legged Waders
Letter from Florida (7): Long-legged Waders
Florida is a paradise for bird lovers. And of all the birds we see around here, the most startling—even though many of them are common as robins up north—are the long-legged waders. What pleasure we take in identifying by name these creatures that we had no knowledge of a few weeks ago.
Some, of course, we knew. An old favorite is the Great Blue Heron. We see lots of them here, though they look different than they do in the North: They have beards and white streaks in their plumage and they sit for hours on end with their long necks stuck down in their shoulder blades, like petulant old men. In the north—as I recall them—they are a solid blue gray and when you spot them they are either fishing or flying. We also enjoy the sleek, grey-blue Little Blue Heron.
Another favorite down here is the roseate spoonbill, a gorgeous pink bird about 30 inches tall with a bill that looks like a couple of nearly flat spoons clasped together. I have some great pics of them; unfortunately I can’t load them on this laptop.
We see all kinds of egrets down here, Snowy, Great, and the Cattle Egret. Our favorite is the Snowy with his black beak, black legs, and yellow feet. (Again, I egret that I can’t show you a picture.)
And then there’s the White Ibis (they’re everywhere, probing the swampy soup with their long curved bills), the Glossy Ibis, the Limpkin, the Wood Stork, the American Bittern, the Green Heron, and more.
I take quite a bit of pride in my ability to identify these birds out in pond and field, though I am not very good at it yet. But this struck me as I was thinking about the fact that I know a lot of these creatures by name: They don’t even know their names. A Snowy Egret would never announce—even if he could talk—“I am a Snowy Egret, and over there is my cousin the Great Egret.”
I know that’s obvious, but In our human pride we think that our having given them a name, makes them what we’ve named them. It’s a little like the preacher I heard recently who seemed to believe that God (and Adam and Eve) spoke English becauseI asssume, his (the preacher’s) Bible was in English.
Ah, well, we human beings are as odd as some of the Long-legged Waders, standing pompously with our necks in our shoulder blades or are beaks in the soup.
Florida is a paradise for bird lovers. And of all the birds we see around here, the most startling—even though many of them are common as robins up north—are the long-legged waders. What pleasure we take in identifying by name these creatures that we had no knowledge of a few weeks ago.
Some, of course, we knew. An old favorite is the Great Blue Heron. We see lots of them here, though they look different than they do in the North: They have beards and white streaks in their plumage and they sit for hours on end with their long necks stuck down in their shoulder blades, like petulant old men. In the north—as I recall them—they are a solid blue gray and when you spot them they are either fishing or flying. We also enjoy the sleek, grey-blue Little Blue Heron.
Another favorite down here is the roseate spoonbill, a gorgeous pink bird about 30 inches tall with a bill that looks like a couple of nearly flat spoons clasped together. I have some great pics of them; unfortunately I can’t load them on this laptop.
We see all kinds of egrets down here, Snowy, Great, and the Cattle Egret. Our favorite is the Snowy with his black beak, black legs, and yellow feet. (Again, I egret that I can’t show you a picture.)
And then there’s the White Ibis (they’re everywhere, probing the swampy soup with their long curved bills), the Glossy Ibis, the Limpkin, the Wood Stork, the American Bittern, the Green Heron, and more.
I take quite a bit of pride in my ability to identify these birds out in pond and field, though I am not very good at it yet. But this struck me as I was thinking about the fact that I know a lot of these creatures by name: They don’t even know their names. A Snowy Egret would never announce—even if he could talk—“I am a Snowy Egret, and over there is my cousin the Great Egret.”
I know that’s obvious, but In our human pride we think that our having given them a name, makes them what we’ve named them. It’s a little like the preacher I heard recently who seemed to believe that God (and Adam and Eve) spoke English becauseI asssume, his (the preacher’s) Bible was in English.
Ah, well, we human beings are as odd as some of the Long-legged Waders, standing pompously with our necks in our shoulder blades or are beaks in the soup.
Next time Brielle and I pass thru Sioux Center, how about the first glass of Oregon Pinot noir is on me?
ReplyDeleteI hear that you all have a fine establishment to "test the spirits".
P.S. I grew up in Michigan and take every chance I get to spot a Great Blue Heron. This is a well played parallel here.
ReplyDelete