Gradually I was able to determine little fluff-balls of life beneath certain of the nesting herons. In other locations, the chicks were more perhaps of middle-school (nearing fledgling) age. In all locations, a great clattering could be heard, almost as if hundreds of our ancestors were beating sticks upon empty tin cans at the same time, for lack of a better description. Grating? To a degree, but comforting in a certain deep-in-the-chest, primal way, as well. Definitely a form of continual communication among the rookery inhabitants. Was this due to my invasion of their habitat? In part, Im sure, but my in my heart I felt they fairly accepting of my visit and merely chatting curiously about this queer animal that was floating about beneath them. They were all wary and watchful, but in no way aggressive or rude. As long as I was respectful of them, their young and their habitat, they would act the same toward me.
Posted on: Tue, 03 Jun 2014 16:17:01 +0000