Herons

Great Blue Heron

Anders and I are back in Florida for the next several weeks, indulging a passion for chasing the birds. It’s our sixth birding adventure to the winter home of millions of birds – from stately herons and egrets, to sassy songbirds, opportunistic seagulls and menacing hawks.

It’s like reuniting with old friends — hearing the familiar squawks and calls, being able to distinguish a breeding bird with only a glance, and knowing that a warbler is a Palm just by the shake of its tail feathers.

Palm Warbler

We started this birding quest not knowing the difference between a seagull and a tern, never mind the pipers and plovers. By day we’d search for birds to photograph. By night we’d thumb though the guidebook page by page, comparing our photos with the colors of beaks, feathers and feet to figure out just what it was we had found.

We’ve come a long way in our knowledge of birds, and it’s all too easy to puff up and shake a little tail feather myself. (Aren’t I something, looking through my new binoculars and being the first one to spot a Red-shouldered Hawk hiding in the middle of a palm tree. I have taken to calling myself the Hawk Whisperer.)

Red-shouldered Hawk

While revisiting some of the wildlife sanctuaries near our campground in Melbourne on Florida’s northeast coast, I realized I was starting to get a teeny bit bored. The first time you see a Roseate Spoonbill foraging, it’s magical. (Click here for the video.) The fifteenth time, not quite so much.

Just about then, at Viera Wetlands just up the coast, along walked a Sandhill Crane. (They do in fact walk almost right up to you. For this video, click here.)

With a blink of that Crane’s eye, my perspective on repetitive birding got rearranged. Think you’ve seen it all? Better look again.

There’s a rare birding phenomenon that happens every spring at Wakodahatchee Wetlands in Delray Beach, Florida. The 50-acre preserve turns into a full-fledged nursery, chock full of nests, eggs and chicks anxious for their next meal.

Baby Wood Stork

The unique thing about the Wakodahatchee Wetlands is access and diversity. You don’t even need binoculars or a telephoto lens to see the nesting Wood Storks, Great Blue Herons, Anhingas, Great Egrets, Green Herons and more.

You can stand under a shaded gazebo on a boardwalk 12 feet from the action. This is not a zoo, but it sure feels like one.

On two visits to Wakodahatchee in the past week, Anhinga chicks wrapped their necks around their moms’ so tightly it was hard to tell one from the other. Great Blue Heron babies are simply comical with oversized eyes and feathers like dandelion fluff. But it was the dozens of newly hatched Wood Storks who stole the show.

Storks feed their young by squirting “pre-digested” fish directly into their mouths. And when these downy chicks are hungry, everybody hears about it. Disproportionately large yellow beaks fling wide open, and you can even see their tiny tongues as they cry.

Great Blue Heron chick

Bawling Wood Stork chicks sound oddly like distressed human infants. When one starts up, they all join in. It’s loud, and just as things start to get obnoxious, the mother Stork reaches over with a long pink toe and strokes the baby. Ornithologists call this “comforting behavior” — pretty much what any good Mom would do.

Wood Storks breed for life, and at least one parent stands guard at all times to shade the chicks and sprinkle water over them if they need cooling off. They’ll also intervene if a Great Egret from a nearby nest happens to get too close.

Here’s a video that puts you in the middle of the action:

In the blink of an eye, this bird reminds us how much there is to learn

Who delivers the Stork? Here’s a nursery like no other