THE SUMMER OF GREEN HERONS

PART 4: GREEN HERONS AS ART

Green Herons are funny, entertaining, surprising, and always beautiful. Their emerald sheen, brilliant rust, black and white feathers are breathtaking. They can assume a compact, ovoid shape or elongate that graceful neck. The head and beak create a variety of angles––chin tucked against the breast, twisted to peer over the shoulder. This is a moving, constantly evolving work of art. Here is a tour through the Gallery of Greenies

Emerald as rich as the greenest sea

The graceful neck at 5 days and 3 weeks

                                                    

Regal in rust

Perfect balance

Parallels on the hypotenuse

Light on the white

Soft colors, gentle shape

Graceful stalking

The emerald ballerina

So ended the summer of Green Herons. It's as though Cirque du Soleill dropped onto our front 

field and performed every evening for our personal viewing pleasure. But better. Quietly. 

Naturally. Once in a lifetime.

THE SUMMER OF GREEN HERONS 

PART 3: WHATCHA DOIN’?

Green Herons have one purpose in life: make lots more Green Herons. To do that, they must stay alive. And to do that, they must eat and not get killed.

Eating is easy at first. Open up, and mom or dad stuffs something in. But within weeks, the little ones must learn to find and catch food independently. The ideal Green Heron buffet features bugs, fish, and small animals.

A Green Heron stalks its prey along the shore, from trees, and on the wing. It pulls its head back and shoots that long neck out like a blow dart at some poor fish lolling about in the shallows. It also scoops dragonflies out of the air.

But surely the most amazing thing about Green Herons is that they use bait to catch their dinner. They actually find some little scrap, a feather, or a small insect and float it out on the water. When a frog or fish comes to check it out, zap! That pointy beak brings home the bacon. There are precious few animals that use bait to obtain food. Surely you remember those junior-high social studies films called Man––The Tool Using Animal!  We thought using tools differentiated us from other beasts. Not only was it sexist, but also a bit cocky. I’ve seen a Green Heron fish, and I’ve seen friends and family fish in the same pond. This pea-brained bird can rightfully sing, “Anything you can do, I can do better.”

One way Herons protect themselves by leaving; flight is a definite advantage in a war with a raccoon. 

They blend nicely into the leaves, so hiding is another defense. 

Having a spear on the front of your face is surely useful in battles with smaller pests. 

And the cry of a heron may give some pause.

Sometimes Green Herons form small rookeries; we’ve had 3-4 nests on the pond at one time. Mom and dad both tend to the young, but you need good eyes to tell one from the other. The pair sticks together through the season and sometimes longer. They may raise several clutches during a summer. If Green Herons can hang together while raising two or three families in a few months, perhaps they can challenge us at more than fishing.

Tomorrow: Part 4: The Art of Being Green

To hear a Green Heron:

http://www.enature.com/fieldguides/view_default.aspsortBy=has+audio&viewType=list&curFamilyID=219

THE SUMMER OF GREEN HERONS

PART 2: THOSE PESKY TEEN WEEKS

Since a green heron goes from egg yolk to responsible adult in four weeks, it doesn’t get much time to wallow in adolescence. It has places to go and feathers to grow. First come those spiky practice feathers, then the adult finery. When those lovely emerald feathers come in, the young ‘un needs to preen away the baby fuzz. That is a lot of work. It’s fortunate they have a long, flexible neck and tweezer beaks.

When you’re built like an ostrich, you’re not exactly aerodynamic. Watching 10-day-old Green Herons learn to walk is like watching the Flying Wallendas do a show after Rush Limbaugh has slipped something into their breakfast shakes. They tumble through the willows, grabbing a twig just in time. They walk out on a branch until it bends, flap their wings furiously, and stumble back to the nest.

Mom is still providing meals at this point, and the babies raise a hullabaloo when she comes in for a landing.

As I paddled to one side of the tree, they’d scamper to the other side. I’d row around, and they’d hurry back. But within a day or two, they simply ignored me and went about their business.

There is so much for a Green Heron to learn in the weeks two to four. Flying. Procuring food. Procreating. Avoiding predators. About that predator thing––one morning there were just three herons in the tree. I searched the branches, the nest, the ground, the pond. No trace of those little ones. Sad to report they never were seen again. A raccoon, coyote, or hawk had a tasty dinner. It's not always easy to deal with animal behavior; sometimes they act just like humans.

Tomorrow: Green Herons, Part 3: Whatcha Doin'?