As tempted as I am some days, I do try not to go back to bed after I've already gotten up.
But some days, the covers are just begging you to come back and crawl up underneath them.
These are the days, like today, when the weather report calls for partly cloudy skies and you still manage to get rained on during your morning walk. Partly cloudy sounds real nice unless you're under the part of the cloud that's doing all the raining.
There are days when the cashier at the store is annoying you and you aren't even in line yet.
Days when the after-rain rainbow is just barely visible.
Days when even the white pelicans seem groggy and lethargic and ready themselves to head back to bed.
It's easy to give in to these days. Why fight it?
Well, you fight it because there are good things too.
The morning rain doesn't stop the Black-crowned Night Heron from fishing twenty feet from you during your morning walk and you just stand and stare at it and the reflection of the clouds and the moon in the water.
And yes the cashier at the store is very annoying and far too chipper so early in the morning, but when you complain stupidly about not having exact change, the woman behind you offers you the six cents you need and suddenly you wonder what was it that was so bothersome about the day.
And yes the rainbow is faint, but it's there and so is the sun.
Same goes for the pelicans. They're quiet today, but they're there, closer to the road and bigger and grander than you had imagined possible.
Today as I was leaving the Wetlands, I thought I would write about disappointments, but then I saw a car stop along that same stretch of road where people had been searching for the Smooth-billed Ani. And then I watched a guy leap out of the car with a camera and I knew he had spotted it.
I pulled past him, turned around and pulled over. Maybe he had just spotted a grackle, but I wasn't going to pass up a chance, any chance to see this rare bird.
I walked up to the man and he pointed into the tall grass. I couldn't see it at first, but I was so determined, I was ready to wade into that tall grass and whatever snakes and ticks lived in it to find this bird, but then I saw that very same tall grass move and then something dark move behind it and that's when I saw it.
The Smooth-billed Ani. Ever since the other day when the man referred to it as the "Smooth-billed Annie," I've been calling it that in my head--I'm not sure what the right pronunciation is only that Smooth-billed Annie sounds like a saloon dancer in the old west and saying it that way makes me smile.
And wow, did this bird have me smiling. It's not a pretty bird, truly. It's drab. I mean even the black grackle has shimmering purples and blues in the sunlight, but the Smooth-billed Ani is just drab black. Its beak is large, taking up a good part of its head.
But let me tell you where its beauty lies. First, in its rarity. It's not an endangered species at all, but it is rarely seen this far north in Florida. It is a Caribbean bird and an occasional south Florida bird, but it is rarely seen here in Brevard.
And then there's this ... its call. It's not a mockingbird. It doesn't sing, but the sound it made today was special. Why? Because it was the first time I had ever heard that sound. Think about all the things we hear over the course of a day, the background noise, the things we've heard a million times.
But today, I didn't just see the Smooth-billed Ani for the first time, I heard it for the first time.
And it was beautiful.
And to think, I might have missed it all had I gone back to bed.
But some days, the covers are just begging you to come back and crawl up underneath them.
These are the days, like today, when the weather report calls for partly cloudy skies and you still manage to get rained on during your morning walk. Partly cloudy sounds real nice unless you're under the part of the cloud that's doing all the raining.
There are days when the cashier at the store is annoying you and you aren't even in line yet.
Days when the after-rain rainbow is just barely visible.
Days when even the white pelicans seem groggy and lethargic and ready themselves to head back to bed.
It's easy to give in to these days. Why fight it?
Well, you fight it because there are good things too.
The morning rain doesn't stop the Black-crowned Night Heron from fishing twenty feet from you during your morning walk and you just stand and stare at it and the reflection of the clouds and the moon in the water.
And yes the cashier at the store is very annoying and far too chipper so early in the morning, but when you complain stupidly about not having exact change, the woman behind you offers you the six cents you need and suddenly you wonder what was it that was so bothersome about the day.
And yes the rainbow is faint, but it's there and so is the sun.
Same goes for the pelicans. They're quiet today, but they're there, closer to the road and bigger and grander than you had imagined possible.
Today as I was leaving the Wetlands, I thought I would write about disappointments, but then I saw a car stop along that same stretch of road where people had been searching for the Smooth-billed Ani. And then I watched a guy leap out of the car with a camera and I knew he had spotted it.
I pulled past him, turned around and pulled over. Maybe he had just spotted a grackle, but I wasn't going to pass up a chance, any chance to see this rare bird.
I walked up to the man and he pointed into the tall grass. I couldn't see it at first, but I was so determined, I was ready to wade into that tall grass and whatever snakes and ticks lived in it to find this bird, but then I saw that very same tall grass move and then something dark move behind it and that's when I saw it.
The Smooth-billed Ani. Ever since the other day when the man referred to it as the "Smooth-billed Annie," I've been calling it that in my head--I'm not sure what the right pronunciation is only that Smooth-billed Annie sounds like a saloon dancer in the old west and saying it that way makes me smile.
And wow, did this bird have me smiling. It's not a pretty bird, truly. It's drab. I mean even the black grackle has shimmering purples and blues in the sunlight, but the Smooth-billed Ani is just drab black. Its beak is large, taking up a good part of its head.
But let me tell you where its beauty lies. First, in its rarity. It's not an endangered species at all, but it is rarely seen this far north in Florida. It is a Caribbean bird and an occasional south Florida bird, but it is rarely seen here in Brevard.
And then there's this ... its call. It's not a mockingbird. It doesn't sing, but the sound it made today was special. Why? Because it was the first time I had ever heard that sound. Think about all the things we hear over the course of a day, the background noise, the things we've heard a million times.
But today, I didn't just see the Smooth-billed Ani for the first time, I heard it for the first time.
And it was beautiful.
And to think, I might have missed it all had I gone back to bed.
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