If you see a Reddish Egret in the shallows of a marsh, just pause for a bit because you’re likely to see an exotic performance. With wings arched over its head, the bird leaps into the air then rushes sideways through the water. The choreography of crisscrossing feet is worthy of Fred Astaire.
We came across this spectacle on the edge of Galveston Island State Park in coastal Texas one rainy afternoon. The scene was transfixing: the egret leaps from the water one moment, tilts its heads far over to the side in the next and then appears to tiptoe.
Made all the more compelling by its willowy breeding plumage, this bird isn’t dancing for our benefit. He’s busy working, and the grand finale is a beak full of fish.
In researching what may be the most beautiful of the egret species, we learned that every part of this comical ritual has purpose. When the bird dances through the shallows, he’s stirring up the fish. By raising his wings overhead, he’s creating a shadow that draws prey to within easy striking distance. A strange and gawky lurch forward is actually an attempt to catch the next fish unawares.
Robert Rice, a veteran bird scientist who spent his career with the Smithsonian’s Migratory Bird Center, explained what happens: “They can eat so much fruit, it ferments in their gut and they go wobbly for a while,” Rice said.
It’s a magnificent sight, one I assumed I’d miss this year with our limited mobility. But the other day, wandering through the trees not 50 feet from our home, I noticed what looked like a new arrival. It was the first of a flock of Cedar Waxwings that gradually became an avalanche, all collecting insects as if their lives depended on it.
In March national headlines started blaring, “Birding is the New Black” and “You Have No Choice but to Become a Backyard Birder.” Then bird feeders started flying off the shelves, and bird watching was proclaimed an economic bright spot in an otherwise dismal economy.
I realize this is hard to fathom. So I am going to pause here for a few moments while you 
