It was borderline raw this morning when we took our walk: windy with some humidity under a sky of glowering clouds. Are you feeling it yet?
We reached the pond and looked for wildlife. It's been pretty quiet the last few days. We spotted a stranger on the near edge. A largish, long legged white bird was looking for breakfast. Then the pair of mallards swam out of the papyrus. The lone Muscovy flew in for a landing. I didn't recognize the new white bird. It had a large straight bill and a some dark feathers on its face.
We started around on the top of the rim of the pond and heard a small commotion. The newcomer came flying, he was being chased by a much smaller bird who squawked as he flew. I noticed that the feathers on the ends of the white bird's wings were black. Then I realized the little, noisy bird was our Little Blue Heron!
Even though he couldn't fly as strongly as the bird he was chasing he managed to rout it.
So maybe that's why we always see the heron on his own.
Later in the morning I related the morning's events to my sister. She suggested our new bird might be a Wood Stork. I checked with my friend Mr Google and he concurred.
That's about as much drama as I want these days, thank you very much.