Lift off

.

Summer, 2009 ~

They spook quite easily, so I was delighted to approach the Great Blue Heron without disturbing it. Paddle folded and my camera in hand, I drifted along the shore within just a few yards of the great fowl… until he moved toward lift-off.
.
It is amazing how such a tremendous bird can lift itself from the shore with only a single flap of his wings… and move several feet in a manner that seems effortless.

I leaned back in my kayak, smiling, and reflecting on the fascinating sight I had just enjoyed.

Just then, the Heron circled around to do the same, flying immediately overhead before disappearing over the trees.

© 2009 - 2011 Mike Anderson, St. Michael, MN. All rights reserved.

Staring into sunrise

Summer 2007 ~

The morning chill was my wake-up call; able to get dressed and grab my camera without waking Julie, I headed for the river. The sun was just rising, and I wanted to meet it.

There is an island on the St. Croix River near Interstate Park.  With rapids in the foreground and geese in the distance, it was the perfect place for a Great Blue Heron to join me… staring into sunrise.

(Click any image to enlarge it.)

© 2007 - 2011 Mike D. Anderson. All rights reserved.

Spring blues

.

Spring, 2011 ~

Some of the waterfowl we see in Minnesota spends part of its winter in the areas most affected by the BP oil spill of last year. When the herons and egrets left last fall, I worried their nesting places would be filled with toxins, and that few might survive to return.

Apparently, my worry was ill-founded; at various times this afternoon, there were groups of three to five Great Blue Herons gathering the wetland behind our house.

It is good to see you, blue.

Mike

© 2011 Mike Anderson, St. Michael, MN. All rights reserved.

Photos... from a camera, and the minds' eye

.
Summer 2010 ~

While on a flight to New York for a job assignment, I am reflecting on the kayak trip I took yesterday, floating from Rockford, Minnesota, to Bernings Mill near St. Michael. It was longer than my usual trip on the Crow River; normally, I take the shorter run that begins at Hanover. But it was just my fourth time out this season—and only my first river trip this year—so I was determined to make the most of it.

[Right now, I suspect we are flying over the Allegheny forests of west-central Pennsylvania. They compose a beautiful range of rolling hills and mountains, seasoned with various rivers, lakes and farms. In the distance, I can see the powerful thunderstorms which I presume to be the cause of my several travel delays today. It is ironic that thesestorms can raise such havoc on the ground, and yet, seem so peaceful (almost surreal) and majestic from the vantage point of the sky.]

My day on the river yielded no new, remarkable photographs; not for lack of worthy sights, but because my camera skills and patience had become rusty since my last river voyage. I did capture one blue heron as it studied me from the top of a hollowed tree trunk. I am pleased to add this shot to my collection.

Among the sights which escaped my camera lens were an adolescent bald eagle (brown features with a spackling of white dots), a more mature eagle (with its iconic white head and tail features, dark body, and gold talons), and smaller blue heron that would leap into flight each time I tucked my camera into its’ dry stow. The camera-shy bird would fly downstream to the next bend to hide, repeating this taunting behavior no less than four times. I saw a green heron, distinguished by its deep green feathers, and accented by burgundy and blue. And finally, a number of painted and soft-shell turtles slid from the logs where they were sunning before I could snap their portrait.

While it takes years of practice to become any good at natural photography, it takes only weeks to lose your edge. No matter; I have captured many shots in my minds eye. (I only wish my mental pictures could be printed and saved, that they might be shared with others, and less likely to fade.)

© 2010 Mike D. Anderson. All rights reserved.

Until we meet again...

Summer 2010 ~

I’ve spent the past few years admiring the Great Blue Heron… which has both an imposing presence when standing on the shoreline, and impressive aerodynamics in flight.

Recently, I have grown to admire another of the great fishing birds, the Pelican; while not as dignified in appearance when hanging-around near land, this fishing expert is every bit as graceful in the air.

I am working hard to appreciate them this season, in particular, because I know these amazing fowl to be among the migratory class that will head south this autumn, likely as far as the Gulf Coast. Given the oil spill tragedy that some fear will continue unabated for weeks to come, and given the harm brought on their cousins (brown pelicans and other seabirds) in the south...

I catch myself wondering whether these beautiful creatures will survive their winter nesting grounds and return to us next year. Or whether their beauty will be conspicuously absent from our northern wetlands next summer.

This fall, I must remember to take one extra long, last glance as the kayaking season ends, and wish them safe passage. "Until we meet again, great fishers… may you find clean tidepools in your southern homes, and may your hunting yield an abundant catch."

.

© 2010 Mike D. Anderson. All rights reserved.

Hiding in plain sight

Spring, 2010 ~

I am accustomed to seeing Great Blue Herons perched in trees, high above the riverside. This spring, I have seen several smaller Egrets near our house, as the unusually rapid thaw left the nearby wetland particularly saturated... and attractive to the long-legged birds.

.

As the water from the snowmelt receded, it left behind islands of grass that seem particularly well suited to Egrets, both for nesting and for camoflauge. I have heard their distinct, muffled "croak," but until today, I had not actually seen the bird amidst the brush. Early this morning, after peering toward the wetland for a half hour or so, I finally spotted movement, and confirmed that two of the birds were living nearby.

In the picture above, if you look closely, you’ll find one of them hiding in plain sight. (If you wish, click on the photo to enlarge the image.)

© 2010 Mike D. Anderson. All rights reserved.