One windy autumn morning I was called to the river by an odd sight. But when I got to the ramp, this magnificent solo Pelican took all my attention.
I love Pelicans and I love reflections and this one was offering both.
We looked at each other for some time, me admiring, him noncommittal, before I realised he wasn’t gong anywhere, just standing in the shallows, rocking slightly in the wind.
I turned to look at the original attraction.
What from a distance had looked like a dragon boat being rowed by a black-clad crew was actually a flock of Cormorants on an oyster rack.
There were about a dozen of them, busily preening, or holding out wings to dry those feathers.
Some looked rather fluffy, as if they were still young, but it was quite a cool wind, so maybe that was simply a warming tactic.
At that distance I couldn’t tell if they were Little Black Cormorants, or the bigger Cormorants.
Perhaps someone can enlighten me.
But why had they chosen such an exposed ‘raft’ in the middle of the river?
Anyway, they had intrigued me enough to bring me (in my slippers) racing down to investigate before they took off.
But, like the Pelican, they clearly had no intention of doing that.
2 thoughts on “Birds of a feather”
Thanks Russell. I will never think of cormorants in the same way again; love your thoughts/insights about their motives and origins. I hope you write poetry… well, you do!
Dear Sharyn, ‘Birds of a feather’ had instant meaning for me thanks I’ll indulge. There’s been some high flyers around, yeah. Cormorants = ‘Valkyries have landed (show off their safety, job done, free to divulge)’. You did very well portraying a role of intent. Part purity of accidentally let them descendant. Though unbeknownst to me and they’d been waiting ~ ‘the bigger cormorants’ description fits in the dark ~ woosh woosh woosh woosh on a mission my word. The last one considerately indicated it could make sense later. For future ID note ‘a higher form of ravenous’. I think they were off to the letter-wing-kites, first. The other side of the Diamantina. The portal was closed before a microbat intercepted the full stop. No news until just before I saw your photos, co-incidentally, so there’ll probably be something else somewhere else: Grace. For me in the present it means I don’t have to worry about impartiality to DNA | freedom to play a soul strand. The cormorants since alighted; the pelican can now get what it takes to reflect wisdom comic. twinkles