Snowy Days

Snowy Egret, Sanibel Island, Florida                         18 February 2011

As I write today, 4 March 2013, a brisk snow is covering my Northwest Wisconsin home.  Horned Larks, taking short flights from the gravel roadsides to the open blankets of snow, are abundant reminders that Spring is not far away.  We have already seen a large black bear ambling across corn stubble, making his way to a bramble thicket. Tonight, a storm promises to bring Winter for a longer stay.   In all honesty, I am thankful, as I still want to get a few more moments in the snow-swept wild.  Maybe (though not likely) we will have a snow day tomorrow.  This brings me back to a different sort of snow day, a warm and sunny snow day a couple of years ago in February.  

The Snowy Egret is a southern bird, a bird of coastal mangroves, bayous and coastal retreats.  It is a small bird with elegant plumes, and it wears a spectacular pair of golden slippers.  Unlike our own Great Egret, the Snowy Egret has a thin, black bill.  In many southern locations, the Snowy Egret is tame and abundant.  It is a spectacular reminder that conservation laws can work.  It is as pure as freshly fallen snow.  A day with this bird is one of the best kinds of snow days to nurture a soul. 

The Snowy Egret was a bird nearly wiped out by the plume trade a hundred years ago, and, like so many things wild, its recovery has given us a generation of dedicated conservationists.  It has also given us a paradox.  Many people younger than me have been born into a world that is once again rich in an abundance of big and spectacular birds, all back from the brink, all survivors of those less favorable days of unregulated market hunting, wetland destruction, DDT, and an ongoing list of things since abolished or better regulated.   It gives us a frailty, a false sense of security.  Our young people must grow to love what we have and never, ever, ever forget…that we once almost lost it all.  Our young people must be inspired to know that it was the determined hard work and anxious concern of previous generations that kept these living treasures around through each growing pain of the industrial revolution. 

What decisions will we make? What decisions will we allow? What legacy will we leave?  It is not enough to celebrate our successes.  We must also contrast them with the mistakes of the past, show the successes as better days, and work tirelessly to secure a great future for the beauty of the wild. 

The greatest conservationists are and were long in vision.  In difficult times, we must also honor them by being equally long in vision.  Exploitation was a mistake of the past, and it is something we cannot afford today.

All images were made with a Canon 30D and Canon 300mm f4 L IS Lens.  The light was spectacular as the sun went down near the Sanibel Island lighthouse beach.  The fishing pier and beach at this location are a good bet for any bird photographer!