Well, one last time for this year, anyway. On Monday, we headed south to Huntington Beach State Park in a mood to appreciate pretty much whatever we got, and the cashier at the entry kiosk got ahead of us, thanking us, as Canadians, for coming south. Who needs cardio? It’s good for the heart both to appreciate and to be appreciated.
In our turn, we appreciated the egrets (great and snowy) scattered across the estuary, lifting off in concert in response to nothing obvious to me and then settling back down, usually at the just-a-white-blob distance. There were only a few near enough for photos.
This guy was lurking verrry slowly at the shore line, before putting his head under water five times very quickly.
We appreciated one great blue heron in the same location as on our first visit. The same bird? Dunno. He fished for quite a while, checking out all the angles.
He had some success, although that fish doesn’t look big in the context of the body weight it’s going to support.
He then took off without warning, a little inside the focusing range of my extended lens and a lot faster than my reaction time. By the time I got my act together, he was almost gone. Dagnab it.
We appreciated one cormorant who gazed soulfully into the distance before faithfully executing his physio neck exercises.
Unlike the great blue heron, he did give significant warning of an imminent launch, but only to hop back up onto the post. Psych!
We appreciated the one alligator we saw, who was also lurking slowly.
And we appreciated the one-and-only, rarely-seen-by-us reddish egret, spotted lurking by the shore by the Big Guy. We also appreciated it when he moved out of the shade and posed nicely, moving so slowly as to be standing entirely still as far as my camera was concerned.
If I could train all the birds and animals to be cooperative photographic subjects–hanging around close to shore, moving slowly, paying attention to the position of the sun–would I? I don’t think so. I like to think I’d realize that the thrill of the chase and of the occasional capture depend entirely on their unpredictability. Success wouldn’t be success without the failures.
Wondrous photos! The patience you bring to your craft is remarkable and something I need to be more aware of in my work.
“Success wouldn’t be success without the failures” strikes home to me in my Focused Listening work and in Alex’s present ordeal. As I see the ways we failed to support him adequately in his first stroke recovery, I can imagine how we might improve going forward with this new one. But it will take patience and careful attention to factors we failed to take into account the first time.
Laurna – Oddly, my patience isn’t tested by photography (although I’ll never have what it takes to spend a month in a blind to get a specific shot). Time just passes, more or less without notice, when I’m chasing birds. As for Alex, I wish you all the very best.
Aren’t those beautiful!
Have you ever been to Pelican Lake in Manitoba?
Tom
Tom – Thank you. I have not yet been to Pelican Lake, although I’ve seen flocks of pelicans at Lockport, MB.
Pelican Lake is on Hwy. 18, on the way to Killarney, about 35 southeast of Brandon.
Pelicans come there by the thousands.
Tom
Very nice Isabel
Sorry we won’t have that much variety when you get home
Jim R – Thanks. And I accept your gracious pre-emptive apology on behalf of Ottawa’s winter/spring season.