Photos under the Sun

I’m back with Part II.  Y’all will hafta bear wif me–it’s very sad for me to be doing this narration but like my heroine Nellie (more about that in a few days) I must be professional–after all the show MUST go on!

[caption id="attachment_1896" align="aligncenter" width="900" caption="Maya the great Egret"][/caption]

The morning of that deadly storm crept in softly and wrapped its golden fingers around every  leaf and blade of grass.  The dew and waterways winked like diamonds in candlelight. Mac the Great Blue heron stretched his massive wings and faced into the rising sun, ready to go for a day’s fishing.

The great egret dance of  romance continued without interruption.

Shineybeakgret on her way to visit with Apple took a few moments to dance in the sky and sing (read squawk) with all her might about the joys of flying on such a lovely day.

As the light crept over the bushes and onto Apple’s nest, MawK woke up and wanted his mullet-yes-ma’am-mullet NOW!  Even though his grip was fierce, instead of howling with the pain, she gave thanks, yet again, for her wonderful life.

And then, the sunny skies started to choke up with dark clouds the likes of which had never been seen.  Shineybeakgret was puzzled to see the sudden, dire change in the morning skies:

[caption id="attachment_1903" align="aligncenter" width="900" caption="“No, it can’t be! It’s too early for hurricanes!”"][/caption]

Gelato swore off white meat with feathers that very instant. She had a premonition that something was up.  Some bad, sad chill made her blood even colder and she knew, just knew that this was a portend of some mighty tragedy to come.

[caption id="attachment_1904" align="aligncenter" width="900" caption=""No more white meat with feathers, No more white meat with feathers,No more white meat with feathers,No more white meat with feathers,No more white meat with feathers,No more white meat with feathers,No more white meat with feathers,No more white meat with feathers,No more white meat with feathers,No more white meat with feathers,No more white meat with feathers,No more white meat with feathers,No more white meat with feathers,No more white meat with feathers,"][/caption]

In some places, the storm tore every leaf off the bushes and flung massive tree limbs to the swampy ground.  This was nothing new for the critters in and around the rookery.  They and their ancestors had survived many a fierce summer hurricane that would sweep through and mangle everything in its path.  No, they were used to this kind of cleanup that nature would impose upon them. By sunset, all was relatively calm again.   Mac came back with lots of fish to share and they all went to bed happy to be alive.

It was the two weeks of freezing weather in the storm’s aftermath that did the damage. The interminable cold laid its murderous fists upon the earth and nothing that was vulnerable could survive that icy grip.  One of the many devastating after effects of the freeze was found underwater.  Thousands of prized Snook died in the bays and along the gulf shores.  Grown men and women wept at the state of the sad fishing situation.  The Anhingas were the first to discover the grim state of affairs:

[caption id="attachment_1906" align="aligncenter" width="900" caption="“All the Snook are dead and there’s very little mullet.”"][/caption]

And the unimaginable happened to Apple and Mac. They lost the three M’s (MiK, MeeK and MawK).  They were too small to survive.  One morning, after Apple set out for a morning’s fishing Mac was surprised to see that all three were still asleep at midmorning.  He put his beak closer and nudged them.

[caption id="attachment_1907" align="aligncenter" width="1024" caption=""Hey, MiK, MeeK and MawK: Time to get up and greet this beautiful day, .""][/caption]

No cries of  “I want my mullet-yes-ma’am-mullet NOW! Nothing. Such cold, cold feathers, the few that were!  No sign of life!  What??? WHAT????? He shrunk back in horror:

He was so appalled, so broken.  He let out a great big wail of terror and grief. Billiebird a Great Blue cousin—now all grown up with a chick of his own–came at once and told him that he should not allow Apple to see them like this.  “Let her hold on to the image of them being alive”, billiebird said.  By then, many of the rookery’s inhabitants had approached and all agreed that it was the best thing to do.  So, they called out to a pelican in the neighborhood to come take the wee  M’s in her pouch and gently take them over to Lake Okeechobee where the Shaman would know what to do.  Then Apple returned at noon all excited to present a little snook that had—miraculously—escaped the freeze.  Mac  had to break the bad news to her:

[caption id="attachment_1909" align="aligncenter" width="900" caption=""Whaddya mean--they're gone??????  I just brought them a nice juicy snook.  Move over!""][/caption]

Apple was stunned and searched everywhere in and around the nest.  This must just be some terrible mistake, she thought.  This went on for hours until finally, Mac held her in a fierce embrace:

[caption id="attachment_1910" align="aligncenter" width="672" caption="“Apple, mon ange, they are with the Shaman over on Lake O. They are getting new wings now and we must wait and watch for them to fly over on their journey.”"][/caption]

Then she and Mac sat for days, huddled together, baffled and in shock at what had happened.  They were doing the watch:

When the watch was finally over and the three M’s flew over with their wispy wings of lace tinged in gold by the setting sun, Mac and Apple could finally let go and turn into each other again and let the grief wash over them:

The whole rookery was in shock and mourned the passing of the three M’s.

It didn’t help matters much when BillyBob  (Billybird’s first born) the juvenile Great Blue suddenly discovered that he had a voice and felt the dire urge to bellow and screech that he wanted mullet-yes-ma’am-mullet! And he wanted it NOW!

[caption id="attachment_1914" align="aligncenter" width="900" caption="“Dad, why is everyone telling me to shush?”"][/caption]

A few weeks later, life took on its usual routine for most. The recently arrived Great Egrets found each other.

[caption id="attachment_1915" align="aligncenter" width="900" caption=""Yummy, Mmmmmmm, Yummy, Mmmmmmm,Yummy, Mmmmmmm,Yummy, Mmmmmmm."][/caption]

BecRouge the Moorhen, took to traveling around the pond once again and visiting with the other Moorhens.

BibbyBob the Great Blue heron juvenile discovered that he had wings and found the answer to what had been bothering him for days and nights.  When he squawked on and on about this amazing phenomenon, no one shushed him anymore.  In fact, his babbling helped to alleviate the terrible weight that the mantle of grief had laid upon them.

[caption id="attachment_1917" align="aligncenter" width="900" caption="“For flying", it says--Oh, so THAT’S what you do with these things.”"][/caption]

And then, something else happened: Apple was taking a stroll down the bushes pondering her vast and empty future when she felt someone standing behind her:

[caption id="attachment_1918" align="aligncenter" width="900" caption=""Good afternoon, Fair One. I’m Cassio the Great Blue heron and why so sad, bella mia?”"][/caption]

“Oh, Ms P –I can’t go on.  Can I take my bow now and come back later?”:

Thank you, my dear brave Maya. You did an amazing job.  So, everyone if you will just CLICK HERE for more of the awesome Mark Knopfler, I, too, shall take my bow and see you in a few days.