Grace and Power

Walking out the front door, my attention was caught by a deep guttural honk. I turned to my left and spied enormous wings ascending over the curvature of a nearby hill. The long wingstrokes were slowly coursing and straining against gravity. The light was muted in the gray weather of the day, making unclear what was approaching me. I quickly moved through a mental checklist of possible birds it could be. No color was discernible, only a dark silhouette. The wings were much too long and large for a crow, the wing beats’ rhythm different than that of a hawk or vulture.

I soon realized there were two sets of wings struggling and tussling in the air. Having not yet reached the peak of the hill, I was able to watch the slow graceful dance coming toward me. And it was this slow yet powerful flight that spurred my recognition; they were two great blue herons: Ardea herodias. These enormous birds finally crested the hill and flew past, only a few feet from where I stood. Engaged in their tangled flight, the two paid no attention to me. Another loud squawk was released, their long necks and sharp spear like bills twisted and thrust at one another. Legs were pointed upward and outward toward each other, defying the pull of gravity. Another call was let loose, and the two birds freed themselves of one another.

To my human’s eye neither seemed to be dominant. They were the same size and coloring; both beautiful, strong and lithe. But it soon became clear that one bird was suppressing the other. The tangle turned into a chase, one pursuing the other across nearby farms and over the woods. The hunted heron flew off to the north. The other, the chaser, made a slow graceful circle back to the pond, where I have been watching it for the past two weeks. The long wings took slow, commanding strokes. With no hurry and much poise it settled high in the branches of a sweet gum and began to preen, clearly the master of its territory.

Over the past few months, while I drove across the country, the great blue heron has been a constant companion. This majestic bird is found in every contiguous state in the U.S. and in all freshwater environments, from streams to lakes to swamps to estuaries. Through continual encounters over many years I am always moved by the great blue heron’s blend of Zen-like grace and tremendous power. Unlike so many things in our quick, flashy culture, the heron uses stillness and self-control to succeed in life.

Primarily an aquatic bird, the heron has developed amazing adaptations to be an effective carnivore, feeding on fish, amphibians, small mammals, crustaceans, even small birds. The sharp bill is spearshaped, making it an effective weapon for killing prey. Modification of the sixth cervical vertebra allows herons to contort their neck into an S shape and thrust the head forward with lightning speed. Another adaptation that aids in hunting is the placement of the esophagus and trachea in relation to the vertebrae. In the lower part of the neck, these organs run over then behind the spinal column to provide the shortest route to the digestive tract. But the placement of the esophagus and trachea behind the vertebrae keeps these delicate organs out of harm’s way when the powerful heron strikes its prey.

This bird is easily recognized by its largeness alone, reaching a length of 52 inches and a wingspan of 7782 inches. It is bluegray along the body, tail and wings with a white face and black crown. The long, curvaceous neck is gray with white and black streaking on the foreneck. The great blue heron has long legs that it stretches out behind it in flight, while tucking the neck into a compact S shape pressed against the body.

Beyond physical adaptations, behavioral adaptations add to the heron’s power and grace. The most common foraging behavior used by the great blue heron is simply standing in wait. I have been utterly amazed by the length of time a heron will stand in absolute stillness when hunting. They will wait in shallow water peering downward into the murk, waiting for prey to pass. Then their neck and bill shoot forward, spearing the prey. After eating, the heron moves to a new hunting place and resumes the wait. At times I have observed them standing in shallow water with wings outstretched. Reading about this behavior, I found that it is used to shade the water’s surface. Shade not only reduces visual glare, it is believed that fish are attracted to shady places, which typically represent protection. Not in this case.

There are several wonderful places in the Santa Monica Mountains to view great blue herons. One of my favorites is Malibu Lagoons, on Pacific Coast Highway across from Cross Creek Road. The estuary makes an ideal place for herons and egrets alike. Another place where I have seen breeding behavior and nesting colonies is on Malibou Lake off Mulholland Highway near Kanan Road.

Watching the great blue heron every day now for the past two weeks, I am becoming more aware of its movement and energy conservation. It seems that each action of the heron is performed with deliberation. There is no wasted energy. In contrast, I see my own haste and superfluous movement. I look at all of my extra expenditures, and I wonder what I could achieve if I were to slow down and take stock of the moment. What power and grace would emerge?