This morning was different. I woke up with the intention of pushing myself out of bed early, a habit I've struggled to maintain since my world turned upside down. As the first light of dawn crept through the curtains, I felt the familiar weight of grief pressing down on me, reminding me of all that I've lost. But instead of letting it keep me in bed, I decided to step out into the quiet world and see what nature had in store for me.
Last evening, I spotted some Greater Yellowlegs along the shore. The sight of them, so close to home, stirred something in me—a quiet excitement, a reminder that there is still beauty in the world, even amidst the pain. So I made a promise to myself to return in the morning, hoping they would still be there. To my delight, they were. There’s something endearing about watching a Greater Yellowlegs go about its morning routine. These slender, long-legged shorebirds are known for their distinctive, high-pitched calls and their energetic foraging habits. They move with a sense of purpose, striding through the shallow waters and along the shorelines, their bright yellow legs a vivid contrast against the muted colors of the early morning.
As I watched them this morning, I couldn’t help but smile at their persistence. They were thoroughly engrossed in their task of picking through the seaweed, turning over clumps of kelp with their long, slender bills, searching for hidden morsels. It’s a bit like watching a seasoned chef carefully select the freshest ingredients for a gourmet dish. Only in this case, the menu consisted of tiny crustaceans, insects, and small fish—nature’s breakfast buffet for these industrious birds.
What’s fascinating about Greater Yellowlegs is how they approach their breakfast with such methodical precision. They don’t just peck randomly; there’s a rhythm to their movements, a dance of sorts, as they wade through the water, occasionally dipping their heads beneath the surface to grab a tasty treat. It’s almost like watching a professional food critic, carefully inspecting each bite before moving on to the next.
I’ve read that Greater Yellowlegs are known to stamp their feet in the water to stir up prey, creating little ripples that help dislodge hidden critters. I didn’t see that particular behavior this morning, but I loved imagining them doing a little “morning jig” to ensure they get the best pickings. And then, of course, there’s their characteristic call—a sharp, ringing “tew-tew-tew”—that they let out, almost as if to announce to the world, “Breakfast is served!” It’s a sound that, once heard, is hard to forget, and it added a lively soundtrack to the serene morning atmosphere. I had no idea we could actually photograph these incredible shorebirds so close to home.
But that wasn’t all. Continuing my walk around the shoreline, I was greeted by the sight of a Great Blue Heron standing gracefully in a bed of kelp, its tall, elegant form backlit by the soft red-orange glow of the rising sun. The light created a stunning silhouette, highlighting the bird’s long neck and broad wings. Despite the dramatic lighting, the heron remained calm and composed, a majestic figure simply living its life, undisturbed by the world around it.
Great Blue Herons are known for their patience and precision when hunting. They can stand perfectly still for long periods, waiting for the right moment to strike at their prey with their sharp bills. These birds are incredibly adaptable, often found in both freshwater and saltwater environments across North America. With a wingspan of up to six feet, they are among the largest and most striking birds you can encounter along the shoreline. Watching this magnificent bird in its natural habitat, I felt a deep sense of connection to the quiet strength it exuded.
And last but not least, I was enchanted by the unmistakable chatter of a hummingbird, that rapid, rhythmic sound that seems to carry a bit of magic with it. I followed the sound until, to my delight, I spotted the tiny, iridescent creature perched delicately on a branch. The way it sat there, perfectly positioned in the soft morning light, felt almost like a gift—a moment of pure serendipity. Hummingbirds are like little jewels of the forest, their feathers shimmering with vibrant colors that seem to change with every flicker of light. To see one so close, sitting so still, was nothing short of magical. It was as if time slowed down just for that moment, allowing me to capture this fleeting encounter with one of nature’s most extraordinary beings.
As I slowly drove along the shoreline, my eyes caught sight of a group of Black Oystercatchers perched on the rocks, their bright red bills striking against the dark, rugged coastline. I couldn’t resist pulling over, hopping out of the car, and making my way to the shoreline to get a closer look. I sat down on a rock and watched as the Black Oystercatchers continued their morning ritual, diligently picking through the rocks and seaweed for their breakfast. Despite the bustle of a nearby gaggle of geese, these majestic little birds were entirely focused, oblivious to my presence as they went about their day. They were just living their lives, and in watching them, I felt a sense of peace that I hadn’t experienced in a long time. It was incredible, magical even, to witness these moments of simple, natural beauty.
Although the Black Oystercatchers were a bit too far away for the perfect shot, I still cherished the opportunity to observe them in their natural habitat. Even if the photos weren’t exactly what I’d hoped for, the experience of watching these birds in the early morning light was still incredibly rewarding.
As I wandered along the shore, camera in hand, something magical happened. My mind quieted, my heart slowed, and time seemed to stand still. Each step I took, each shutter click, pulled me deeper into the present moment, away from the pain that so often lingers at the edges of my consciousness. When I finally took a moment to look at the photos I had captured, I was electrified. My heart raced with a joy I hadn’t felt in a long time. It was as if, for that brief moment, the outside world ceased to exist, and it was just me and the wildlife, connected in a way that words can hardly describe.
Photography has become my saving grace, a way to navigate through the depths of my grief and depression. It’s in these early morning hours, when the world is still quiet and the day is just beginning, that I find a sense of solace. Nature is there for me, offering its beauty and its presence, even in the darkest of times.
And so, I move forward, one wildlife encounter at a time, grateful for these moments that remind me that life, in all its forms, goes on. On to the next adventure.
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