Blue Collar Bird

O great blue heron, now
That the summer house has burned
So many rockets ago,
So many smokes and fires
And beach-lights and water-glow
Reflecting pinwheel and flare:
The old logs hauled away,
The pines and driftwood cleared
From that bare strip of shore
Where dozens of children play;
Now there is only you
Heavy upon my eye.

Taken from the poem The Great Blue Heron

Read the entire poem: by Carolyn Kizer and learn more about the author.
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Sunday was a yard-work day. In between weed-whacking, edge trimming, fence fixing and lawn mower adjustments, I watched and listened to the birds.

A red trail hawk, circling effortlessly overhead, minding its own business, enjoying the day and doing what it does best, was suddenly under attack from a couple of crows. They flew up from below and made a couple of cheap-shot lunges at the hawk. Obviously, they weren't going to do any damage to the hawk, but the hawk was taken off his game and definitely look uncool. He or she -- it's hard to tell from a 100 yards below -- straighten out its glide path, pointed its nose down and to the north and headed to a less popular fly zone.

A hour or so later, the same crows where being chased by a couple of black birds. They too were escorted out of the neighborhood. At this time of the year, the pine trees are loaded with baby birds and it can turn into a rather active feeding zone for the hawks and crows.

Later in the afternoon, a great blue heron flew over on his way to the lake out back. To me, the great blue heron is the ultimate blue collar bird. Storks are pictured bringing babies and herons should be pictured carrying a lunch bucket. They are a no-frills flying machine.

Some days, in the morning, when the herons leave the lake and fly west, I imaging their flight is a straight line to the marsh land around 10-Mile creek. Every wing flap is for a purpose. When the herons later return to the lake, as soon as they reach the point where the hill slopes down to the lake, they quit flapping and lock into their landing approach. No need to waste any energy. That would require catching an additional frog to compensate.

As I watched the heron return Sunday afternoon, I thought about how I'd never seen any birds bother a heron. Not a hawk or a crow or a red-wing blackbird. Obviously, the bird world understands who their enemies are. Right...

Wrong! On Monday morning I drove to work on County Road E past the Twin Lakes area. High-wire power line parallel the south side of the road. It is great for hawk and eagle watching. This time of the year, there is usually one or two eagles sitting on top of the power line posts by Twin Lakes. They are there on the way to and from work. Once I saw two adults and one immature eagle, each with their own poll. Between Highway 65 and County Road A, I have counted up to eight red-tail hawks on a given morning or afternoon. I hook at each one...got to keep them on their talons.

On Monday morning, I saw a heron flapping its way to the east lake from the north. Suddenly, the three red-wing blackbirds rose up from the weeds and started harassing the heron. The heron made an awkward adjustment, set its wings and glided toward the lake probably to get that extra frog it was going to need for that interruption in its blue collar efficiency.