The beauty of the brown pelican is the color of its underwing. Black. Unremarkably tan of back and upperwing, noticeably white of head, when brown pelicans flap between soars, their underwings flash eerie hints of mystery. When they disappear on a long slow glide into the marsh grass, they send me right back to the page to ferret out more.
Another thing about them is the absolute stillness of their heads and bodies in flight, even as their wings alternate between easy pumping and long soaring. Their heads are hunched back as if fused to their shoulders, holding their eyes steady, the better to see a fish with. There's a lesson for a writer in their calm. In their patient focus.
And another thing. Their activity over the marsh does not stop in the rain. Few other birds are visible out there in this weather, but the pelicans carry on. I guess if one dives into water for a living, what matter a few raindrops? The brown pelicans of Fripp Island, S.C. are practically revising today's chapter for me. dkm
Jurassic Garden
13 hours ago