Heron

As I rounded the last turn of Highway 82 to head up the hill to Bell Buckle at about 7:10 this morning, a great blue heron glided above my car from the left. After years of living in Louisiana where such birds were a common sight, I am still taken aback by the cranes and herons living here. Indeed, my first month in Bell Buckle, I saw one perched on the fencing above a tennis court.

The above image is from the Graham Owen Gallery online.

A couple of years ago, in November, I was lucky enough to see seventeen young whooping cranes on their migration behind an ultra-light to Florida. As I topped a hill on I-24 at about mile marker 122 going north, I saw enormous birds flying fairly low over the interstate. As I registered their size, I also noticed the ultra-light. I immediately sped up, way above the speed limit, trying to get them, but as I drew closer, they disappeared over a line of trees and hillocks. Later that day, after much research, I discovered I had seen Operation Migration, the migration of the whoopers. Soon after their landing in Florida, all but one (who had stopped out along the way) died in a tornado.

I admire the people who devote themselves to helping these birds survive despite odds against them and I am in awe of the birds themselves for their stamina and intelligence. Great birds are great.