Since we moved to Florida, my husband and I have a tradition of going to a park after dinner. Florida has beautiful parks everywhere. Many have lakes, others wind through swamps or mangroves, and others look over the bay. One thing all the parks have in common is they are home to lots of wildlife.
On a Tuesday evening after stuffing ourselves on Korean food, we stopped at our favorite park on the way home, War Veterans Memorial Park in Bay Pines. It was 7:30, the sun was low in the sky, and the park was quiet. We drove the shaded windy road that led into the park. Big Spanish moss-covered trees stood on either side of the road. We made it to the end of the road and pulled into the empty parking lot at our favorite spot in the park.
The air was less hot than earlier but still very humid. As I waited for my husband while he went to the restroom, I stood in front of a tree where a squirrel was upside down on the trunk. The squirrel didn't move; he sat there watching me. Then he moved his head towards me sniffing the air, he was curious. I took a picture since I was standing only a few feet away.
"Hi buddy," I said in a friendly voice, I know, I talk to animals; I can't help it.
"How's it going?"
He looked at me expectantly. He didn't run away like squirrels normally do.
"I'm sorry. I wish I had food to give you."
I continued walking. A man with his two little dogs got out of their car. The man saw the squirrel and proceeded to admire it and take pictures just like I had. The squirrel was still calm. I love when animals give us the privilege to get close to them and admire them. I am honored that they trust me.
I continued to walk along the water. I watched a heron, and an egret fish and pelicans dive into the bay. We love this spot in the park; it is a beautiful grassy point that protrudes into Boca Ciega Bay. The bay surrounds it on three sides. From the land, you can see islands in the water covered in trees that are favorite nesting spots for all kinds of seabirds. This bay is their paradise. There's not a moment when you look out that you don't see pelicans, herons, egrets, and cormorants flying past over the water. Birds love this water because of the abundance of fish, crabs, and other crustaceans.
I watched as the waves lapped against the patch of white sand on the west side of the point. The sand was covered in perfectly round little crab holes, each the size of the tip of my pinky. No wonder the birds love this place, there are so many crabs.
I continued walking as my husband joined me again. We walked along the water's edge on the East side of the point. Kayakers were out enjoying the evening water. Allen walked in front of me on the edge of the water. I was looking ahead and just 10 feet in front of him was a beautiful heron.
It dropped a catch out of its mouth.
"Wait, Allen, don't scare him away," I said pointing out the heron.
Allen moved on, and I slowly approached, careful not to scare him away. Many herons won't let you get within a few feet of them. The heron stood on his rock and continued watching for food to approach as I came closer. I took out my phone and snapped a few pictures. Then a video.
This was the first time, at least that I remember, seeing this kind of heron. It was medium sized, much shorter than the great blue heron but bigger than a green heron. It had yellow legs and a long blue-grey body with dark darker grey speckled wing feathers. Its head was black with a wide white band across the top that extended into a crown that stuck out from the back of its head, and another white band under its eye. It had a short black beak that may be an adaptation for feeding on hard-shelled crustaceans. It was a beautiful bird, and I was ecstatic that I was so close to it.
The bird still had not moved, so I came in closer. I sat on the edge of the concrete wall that held the land from eroding. My feet dangled over the rocks and shallow water. The heron stood across from me, less than ten feet away. He seemed comfortable with me there, and not at all threatened. He kept his eye focused on the clear water below him, determined to catch whatever he dropped.
The gentle sea breeze blew, and the sun crept lower in the sky. It shone through the palm branches that swayed overhead and reflected against the water that was moving in a gentle motion. Pelicans flew past and dove into the water or rather crashed into it in their effective yet ungraceful manner.
I tried not to make any sudden movements. The heron moved his head forward and tilted it to get a better look at the water. Behind him, a large fish jumped. A few seconds later I saw another one jump. For some reason, the fish seemed to like jumping around sunset. Still, the heron was unmoved, standing majestically on his rock. I smiled honored to have been so close to him.
The same man with his dogs saw the remarkable heron in front of me and wanted his shot. He came up next to me, but the heron must have seen his dogs. I was thankful for the few minutes I had with this beauty and watched as he took off and headed west towards one of the bird islands.
Later I identified this bird and discovered it is called a yellow-crowned night-heron. In Florida, they live year-round foraging in shallow waters, especially around dusk for crustaceans. In some areas, it is called "crab eater." Although they are common in this area, it was a special moment to see and photograph this bird for the first time, to be able to sit so close to it and enjoy its presence, a rare and special occasion with any heron.
