The Rookery

There is a small wooded area, really just a patch of Live Oaks, that grows between the main highway out of Rockport, Texas and the waterfront. We’d passed it many times, and hadn’t noticed, until friends pointed it out.

It’s a rookery: the place herons and egrets come to build nests and nurse their young. I’ve never seen anything like it.

A viewing area allows us to watch the comings and goings of Great Blue Heron, Great Egrets, and others, all sporting their full breeding regalia.

We observe birds collecting twigs for nests, and pairs working together to arrange them.

Some birds, no doubt due to the close proximity of their neighbours, protest loudly, and we witness a few scuffles, but the birds soon settle down to the task at hand.

We will return here often in our last days, honoured to share in such a miracle, our cameras loaded with images to process for sometime to come.

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Permission to write, paint, and imagine are the gifts I gave myself when chronic illness hit - a fair exchange: being for doing. Relevance is an attitude. Humour essential.

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