Coastal Birds - Tumblr Posts
It’s hard to see them here (phone camera) but out on the river today, I got to see plenty of osprey nests and ospreys to go with them. It’s been a while my friends!
For reference:
https://avianreport.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/01/osprey-perched-1.x46747.jpg
Picked up my paint brush today for the first time in a while.
Egrets are my favorite bird. It’s always been a joy watching them catch fish in the marsh during my afternoons walks. When I visit home, they are always the first thing I look for, and they’re always in the marsh to greet me. I’m excited to live near all my coastal birds again.
I got a lot of bird pictures to share. Starring my favorite bird, the Egret. In the second photo is an Egret sharing a dock with a muster of storks.
The Egret will forever be my favorite bird.
The Carolina Bays between Georgetown and Charleston, South Carolina is very special for many many reason. One of them being the barrier islands, and all the birds that inhabit them.
Wood Storks hanging out at Huntington.
Blue Herons are always a treat to spot in the marsh. I love hanging out with these guys.
Birding adventures. This time I got to picture this beautiful Bald Eagle at Huntington Beach State Park. What a treat!
I love an Egret and a swamp :)
Got out yesterday with my camera. Sanderlings kill me. I love these birds so much. They are the birds that move their little legs so fast when they run around the waves.
In flight. Today’s collection of southern coastal birds in my backyard.
The Egret: My Muse.
Birds eye view. Watching fiddler crabs or minnows.
A southern coastal setting is often the background to many love stories I’ve watched on screen. I think about the introduction to The Notebook, the birds flying above the Black River. Forest and Jenny. The list goes on and on. Take the people out of the plot, and there’s such a natural romanticism about the Lowcountry coast. It is a ripe setting for love. For me, that love starts and ends here. To feel so deeply connected to an area, and to love it so much. It’s hard to replicate. I fall in love with it over and over again.
When I decided to leave it two years ago, a piece of me was missing and I didn’t feel whole again until I was back. The fear of familiarity and the mundane consumed me. I’ve spent many of these summer days lamenting the cool air of the mountains, missing the summer days spent in the Appalachian creeks. An exciting deviation from the normal. I love it too. The way you love the excitement of an adventure, the rush, the constant of newness. Feeding into an adventurous rush. It’s hard to miss it. But…
I was empty there. I laughed and regularly lived in the awe of seeing places I’d never seen. I lost the familiar love of my life. The beauty in pointing my camera at yet another Egret. Watching the spartina grass finally hit its peak green in August. To then watch it fade to beige again. Seeing yet another lettered olive or little whelk along the beach. I will always pick them up. Watch the sun move over the horizon throughout the seasons.
I sat in my Greenville apartment all alone and decide to watch The Notebook movie because I had nothing better to do. The second those white birds flew over the Black River, a river I’ve spent so much time on, I would cry because I missed my birds. I missed seeing the things I regularly love. I felt like I was missing out on my own life.
Watching the coastal birds fly over to roost at the state park, watching the tide roll in and out. In and out. Who knew I would feel like I was missing out on something that seemingly never ended and something I saw every single day. I ultimately couldn’t take it. I gave up the promise of new sights and adventures to spent my days capturing yet another picture of some birds. To me, yes a waterfall is more magnificent than watching something I am use to. But that’s love. I look out at the cattails and brackish water. I listen to the Blue Herons abrasively honk. Who knows how many times I’ve been out in some marsh to watch it. It truly never gets old.
This area is romantic. At least for me. But not because of memories of lovers. No. This area is full of love for what it is. Something many people here deeply understand. When you see it through that lens, and you love it so much…. You can’t depart from it. It becomes the love of your life. Something I know I will grow old with.
If I make it to 80 or 90 years old, as long as I have strength to walk, you can find me out here among the wetlands. Over and over and over again. I love it more and more every time.
Golden Hour signaling a wedge of white ibises in to roost.
This Little Egret and I engaged in a staring contest.
Roseate Spoonbill and Cormorant in flight above the marsh.