Dinosaur Bird

Unnamed Great Blue on the coast of Maine

It's funny that this picture was taken while I was on a beach walk.  Where I walk is high above the rocky shoreline of Maine.  As I walk I gaze at the waves crashing into the sharp edges of aged granite.  And feel better.  I always feel better.  But on this walk I happened to look to my left and spotted a great blue heron wading in the wetlands, fishing, waiting, living his life.  Years ago I was a zoology major in undergrad school.  I was going to be a biologist until I realized that, at that time, that most biology was centered around chemistry.  Interesting but not my jam.  I wanted my subject matter to be breathing.  While taking a zoology class I was assigned a zoo task of watching the behavior of captive blue herons. I got my time-sampling notebook ready.  I sharpened my pencil.  I set my timer and was ready to observe the ever-changing behavior of a great blue heron.  And I pretty much sat, sometimes yawning, for hours.  Herons are not what one might call active birds.  While hunting they stand still like a Buddha meditating amongst the reeds.  And then, periodically and seemingly out of nowhere, they strike with the speed of a lightening spear, jabbing down into the murky water to stab a fish.  Or they fly away.  I encountered wild herons when I stayed at a friend's house one winter in Alabama.  She lived on a bay that was frequented by Fred, the local heron celebrity.  He would spread his azure wings six feet wide and glide through the air to settle on the shoreline.   Where he'd once again stand still until he caught sight of prey.  Or I'd see him begging from fishermen on the beaches of Orange Beach where I'd smile as we passed.  I love the patience of these lean birds.  Something I don't always find in my life.   This bird with a golden eye is a good reference point.  The graceful S-curve of his neck in flight is elegant and simple.  Life can be simple.  No doubt, the ocean is where I can breath and be as the noisy waves crash and beat up the rocks.  And, I do feel connected to myself as I breathe in briny air.   But I also am drawn to the still of this slate-blue waterbird whose ancestors once roamed earth 25 million years ago.  

Fred on the shores of Orange Beach