Not Narcissus Great Egret, St. Augustine, Florida

Photos and editorial © Mark Seth Lender

In the leafless somnambulance of winter the tree sways in the wind, and has not recognized that by all the other purposes of Life it is already spring. The warmth that should be early April has arrived a month too soon. The Order of disorder rules.

White as the snow that never falls here, white as the clouds that pillow on the sky, white as sequins sewn to the wedding suit of some mysterious groom, now Great Egret has

Great Egret bows, the long neck reaches down, the long bill taps sharply on the branches below the branch whereon he stands (to show, how he will find substance for the nest; how he will strike the water to capture fish). He stretches towards the blue above him (to show, the way he will defend eggs, then young, and challenge all intruders and unwanted suitors). He strops the feathers and the long decorating quills vibrating along his sides (to show, by his perfection how fit he is for the tasks he promises to perform). He sways side to side (a demonstration that his balance is unshakable). He looks straight and long (taking the parallax view of any danger lurking near or far).

And just in case you think all this is rote, that he has no idea what it’s all about, and who it’s all for? When the dance is done, like any single dancing son alone at a high school prom, he looks all around as casually as possible so that you’d hardly notice it – a glance here, a glance there – in hope that at the very least just one of the girls was watching!

.

25

Field Note:

We tend to assume that mating and courtship displays in birds, in part because they are so elaborate, must be automatic, and that the birds have little if any awareness of why exactly they do what they do. But this is a lazy assumption. Based primarily on preconception; though perhaps more than anything on a lack of first-hand observation, because of how difficult it is for most of us to find the place, and the time, to have a really good look. In my own yard on the Connecticut shore, facing the barrier islands of Long Island Sound, I have a clear view of a great egret rookery. But that view is distant. In many years I am privileged to see the first wave of great egrets arrive, already in their wedding finery. I watch them gather high in the yet leafless trees and then descend to the deeper safety of the grove for the night. But for the details, even from this wonderful vantage point, I have to head south, where the hundreds of yards of separation of my home view becomes only tens of feet.

That place is in St. Augustine Florida where (proximity notwithstanding) different times of year reveal different behaviors. Early spring, before there are eggs much less young, all thebirds are in full decorative plumage and among those not yet in pairs, apalpable anxiety rules.

The story told here is not based on a singular event in the idiosyncratic mating display of one particular great egret. There were a number of males in breeding plumage and this set of behaviors was common to almost all of them. The glances were furtive, sent in different directions, and always at the conclusion of the display. As far as I could tell, at least on the several days I was there to see it, the boys were going to be dancing alone. No one was paying attention.

These lonely egrets, late to the party, were probably the younger ones. Perhaps in the next year of their maturity Nature will be more kind.

Mark Seth Lender is a producer for wildlife content at Living on Earth ( LOE.org ), the only program on US Public Radio exclusively dedicated to wildlife and environmental reporting.