Sleepyhead

In the first few years of my walks in the park, I rarely ventured near the edge.  My eyes stayed mostly on the trail.  It was a birder with a long, heavy lens who taught me to look outside the box.  He squatted low with his lens aimed down.  What in heck?  I crouched and peeked. A dozen birds were busy feeding down there, just a few feet away, but out of sight to 95 percent of park visitors.  Since then, you’ll often see me walking on the edge, or stopping to peek over, camera ready.  The other week, about half an hour after sunrise, I had a surprise.  Just off the dirt trail opposite the hotel, on rocks so near that if I had a fishing rod, I could have tapped it on the shoulder, stood a Pelagic Cormorant, fast asleep.  It had its head tucked deep between its wings.  It ignored the trucks passing by, and the train whistles, and the runners’ footsteps, and everything else.  Twenty minutes later, it hadn’t moved.  When I returned to the spot later in the morning, it was gone.

Pelagic Cormorant sleeping
Pelagic Cormorant’s neck slung over its shoulder
Pelagic Cormorant’s feet

 

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