The largest bird I can see with any regularity is the great blue heron.  Technically there’s some overlap in wingspan with bald eagles, but I see those less often, and I do think they are smaller overall, for not having a heron’s snake neck and long bill.

They’re pretty cool.  The way color and texture of feathers varies over the body lends interest, but the dominant color is low key blue-grey.  Classy.  Herons, egrets, and the hilarious bitterns are in the Ardeidae, united in having the long legs, snake neck, and stabbing beak.  They skulk, they wade, they snap up a small animal, and they swallow it whole.

I once saw one put away a very chubby rodent like this.  Grab it, toss it in the air, then swallow.  Freaky.  I’ve read that they are so voracious they will die from swallowing inadvisable prey.  There was a case in California where one had swallowed an eel that produces choking mucus, and died.  Then the heron next to it grabbed another eel and went out the same way.  C’mon, guys.

More random experiences…  On a birding trip to the Billy Frank Jr. Nisqually National Wildlife Refuge, I got my best view ever of one, through the free mounted telescope.  The bird had landed on a rail further down the walkway, and through the scope was as easy to see as a pet cat in your lap.  Cool details, beautiful animal, but when it defecated, it looked like somebody chucking a coffee mug full of liquid paper out the backside.

One time I took a vacation all by myself when I was alone in life, no friends family or lovers to bring along.  It was the dark of winter, cold and abysmal, taking a ferry from Seattle to Port Townsend.  The weather kept me from seeing as much wildlife as I would have preferred, but I got to hear the call of a heron for the first time – a great croak, like you’d imagine coming from a man-eating toad in D&D.  Nice.

Right after that I returned to art school on the Seattle waterfront, the early class having me there before dawn.  I heard the call again, and looked down just in time to see one gliding between the masts of docked sailboats, illuminated by amber street lamps.

A few times at beaches in South King County I was able to wade within thirty feet of one while it fished.  Not as good as the telescope view, but kind of fun.  One time while birdwatching in Ballard, I saw one across the locks in a park where they are known to nest, feeding a chick what looked like a four foot snake.

I just like to see a big-ass bird in flight.  They’re not the truly big ones, but respectable, and they’re what I’ve got.  Watch the big angel wings beat the sky, and if you’re lucky, hear the big devil croak.

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