The Silence of Pelicans

The poignancy of a photograph comes from looking back to a fleeting moment in a floating world. The transitoriness is what creates the sense of the sacred

Allen Ginsberg

Pelicans sailing

slowly toward me -

squadron of silence

it seems impossible such a large bird can fly so gracefully

and float so easily.

Powerful wings lift them, soaking wet, from the ocean,

as they fly, and turn, and dive back into the water.

The heavens are full of floating mysteries.

Thomas Buchanan Read

Tuesday morning was exuberant chaos on the beach. The waves were crashing, the wind was thundering. Surfers were shouting to each other back and forth about the best spots, then fighting their way through the chop past the break. Along the coast, people who gathered for the sunrise were laughing and talking and taking many, many pictures.

Then came the pelicans, drifting gracefully on the wind, wings wide, almost, but not quite - hovering. I looked up and the hush of delight I felt created a vacuum of sound that seemed to be so beautifully long but was really only a moment. I was sure when I let down my camera that there would be a group of people around me, all staring off to where the pelicans flew, but it was just me - returning to the sea of sound. And that was also magical. Like it was just my moment. What a gift.

Thank you so much for being here. See you next week!

A line of pelicans flying close to the surface to spare their wings some effort.

Small Struggler

Life is a beautiful struggle.

Talib Kweli

With its neck and feathers tucked in, the small green heron looks tense.

When he stretches his neck out - he can look pretty fierce.

Stress

Crouching Green Heron,

swiftly shoots forward to strike -

struggling, like me.

I am seeking, I am striving, I am in it with all my heart.

Vincent Van Gogh

The green heron is a fierce little fisherman. Drawing its feathers in, tucking its neck into its body - it drops little lures on the water to bring its prey to the surface, and waits. Then, suddenly, it strikes out with that sharp pointed beak, extending its neck to catch them when they appear. It looks like two different birds from one moment to the next.

Last week, when I wrote about the night heron, I admired it for its patience and trust in the flow of things. The green heron seems to strive a little more. They are both following their natures, but I often think it would be better to be like the night heron - calm and graceful. Sometimes when things are harder though, I know I’m more like the green heron. I can almost feel the stress in its hunched shoulders when it’s standing on the edge of the water, and its striving when it stretches out its neck in the treetops. It’s like me when I’m doing my taxes. I guess it’s all an ebb and flow. Sometimes I struggle, and other times I flow.

I really appreciate you being here, reading my musings. Thank you so much for all your feedback. I’m thinking about doing another photography challenge…let me know if you’re interested, and I’ll see you next week!

Settling back into his perch. (If you want to know more about green herons, click here.)

Winged Heart

Adopt the pace of nature: her secret is patience.

Ralph Waldo Emerson

A black-crowned heron is standing on the rocks,

her wings and plume folded close to her body.

She’s gazing down at the water,

her beautiful eyes catching light from its surface.

She doesn’t move.

She barely seems to breathe;

and I hide behind a tree

barely breathing myself, to see her.

It is a gift to find her here,

in daylight, waiting patiently for fish to come.

resting, trusting her skill

and trusting the earth to provide

in its own good time.

Wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving.

Khalil Gibran

It’s hard to describe how lucky I felt to walk just a few blocks from home and find this beautiful night heron just standing by the water patiently watching. The rocks where she was standing are below the level of the concrete path between the water and the buildings near the marina. There is a short wall above the rocks. It would have been easy not to see her there, below me and as still as she was, but I was actively looking. It was unusual, but not unheard of to see a night heron in daylight. I was very careful not to disturb her. Her absolute stillness made it so much easier to take clear pictures. What a magical experience. (If you want to know more about black-crowned night herons, click here.)

Hope you have a wonderful weekend. Thank you so much for being here. See you next week.

The first night heron I ever saw was this yellow crowned night heron, in February 2022. I was hoping to see the moon rise over the ocean, but it was a cloudy night. When I walked back home through the park - I saw movement out of the corner of my eye. I didn’t know what kind of bird it was when I took the picture. It’s grainy; the only light source was a park lamppost; but I still love this. Just the two of us, walking in the dark.