April 15th, 2014
By Nic Stoltzfus
Here is a story from earlier this year about my experience with wildlife at one of South Walton’s coastal dune lakes.
February 17th, 2014
This morning Dad and I woke up and left Seaside a little before 6:00 to head out to Western Lake to get sunrise pictures. This morning we trained our cameras on Western Lake’s famous umbrella-like canopy of slash pines on the southeast side of the lake (located in Grayton Beach State Park). I stationed myself at water’s edge, just at the bottom of a crescent of shoreline at Western Lake. As we were taking pictures a Great Blue Heron (Ardea herodias) flew in to the right of me to come eat his breakfast. I kept taking pictures of the row of pines, but kept a steady eye on the heron. He kept walking closer towards me, working his way along the crescent shape of the shoreline. The sunrise ripened to fruition and the early light of morning filled the sky. I switched positions and focused my lens on the bird. I had my lens zoomed in fully to 200 millimeters (I have an 18-200 millimeter lens for my Nikon camera and 200 is as far as it telescopes in. The scope goes like this: Think of 18 millimeters as wide-angel. 50 mm is what the natural eye sees. 200 is about the strength of a normal pair of binoculars. When you see those spectacular pictures of close-ups of birds, caterpillars, flowers, etc. typically photographers are using a 300mm or 400mm lens). I held my breath. The heron dove in the water for his first fish.
The above image always makes me smile when I see it. When I see this image, I think of an X-Wing Fighter from Star Wars. This Great Blue Heron is locally famous, and I think a few of the locals have named him “Buddy.”
The heron caught one fish and kept walking closer towards me. My dad was back further, by the road, and he also had his zoom lens on his video camera fixed on the heron. I looked up at him and he held his index finger over his lips, indicating for me to be still and quiet and not spook the heron. I shook my head up and down and continued to breathe slowly and hold still. He continued walking closer towards me. Herons are so fun to watch when they walk. They have this delicate, almost gentlemanly, way of walking. It is as if saying to the world, “Yes, I am avian royalty. I am the largest heron in North America. The indisputable feathered king. I will delicately work my way towards breakfast, thank you very much.”
One thing that is so cool about herons is their eyes. They are piercing yellow and slice right through to the depths of your soul quizzing, questioning you: Who are you? What are you doing here? I zoomed my camera back to 18 millimeters to get a wide-angle shot of the landscape with the heron in the foreground.
The Great Blue Heron continued working closer towards me. He kept tilting his head from side to side looking for fish darting in the water. I zoomed my lens back to 200 mm and focused it on the heron. He lunged his neck forward and plunged his beak into the water.
He walked closer until he was about 10 feet away from me. I slowly turned my head to see my dad taking a picture of the scene with his iPhone. I slowly turned my head back around and continued to hold still.
Stillness. A bead of sweat slid down my forehead. I was sweating despite the coldness of winter. Waiting in feverish anticipation. With a lightning-quick strike the heron dove again for another fish and came up with his third fish for the morning. It was flapping from side to side as a single seaweed strand hung down from the heron’s beak.
I continued to hold still and finally the heron flew off soon after he caught his third fish. I walked back up to the side of 30A with a huge grin on my face—what a morning!
End note: I refer to the Great Blue Heron in this blog as a “he” for clarity, but I am not really sure if the heron was a he or a she. Unless you have a male heron and a female heron next to one another it can be difficult to tell the sex of the species. Male and female markings are remarkable alike.