In small decisions, seemingly inconsequential moments, lie the seeds of momentous events.

I'm in a rookery near Houghton Lake. Out in the wetlands to the west of me bare trees rise out of the water. Near the tops of these trees are enormous nests. And on the nests stand very large birds, three to four feet tall, Great Blue Herons.

There is such tremendous variety in birds - vastly different sizes, shapes, colors, behaviors and habitats. Many smaller birds migrate together, moving as one in huge flocks. They seek safety in numbers. The odds of any single bird being caught unaware and falling prey to a predator are greatly diminished when there are hundreds of wary eyes on the lookout in a flock. But once these birds arrive in spring they disperse and take on a new strategy of being inconspicuous and hiding their nests.

Great Blue Herons are totally different. Instead of migrating in huge flocks they fly alone or in very small groups. Instead of separating in spring and hiding their nests they come together and nest in a colony, the rookery.

In the rookery in front of me there are at least two dozen nests. As the sun sets I move along the water edge, trying to line up the birds with the best color in the sky. As I watch the birds I notice a behavior that is repeated across the nests in the last half hour of the day's light.

The long legged birds fly up from the nearby water and woods to the nests. They fly behind the rookery, lock up their wings and bank into the wind. They either land on the nest or on a branch above and hop down. And then they join their mate already on the nest. The birds go through something that seems part dance, part ritual. Each bird stands and faces it's mate. They straighten their necks, pointing their beaks into the sky. Then they gently rub their necks and beaks together. This "necking" goes on for a minute, maybe two, and then the male jumps up while beating his wings and floats down on to the females back, and then they mate.

As the sun sets this scene is replayed across many of the nests, just like it has for thousands of years. I look at the birds silhouetted against the vibrant colors of the days end. And I think that right then, at that very moment, the next generation is coming to life.

In a way I find this all to be kind of shocking. It's not the mating, that is beautiful and reaffirming. It's the synchronicity that I find so amazing, that all these individuals would have such intimate responses, simultaneously.

Sometimes, usually late at night, I find myself wondering if out of all the people out there anyone has the same thoughts and feelings that I do? I've had a fair number of unique or at least unusual experiences. Maybe at this point I'm the only one that holds my set of beliefs, my perspective. But then again maybe its all a facade... perhaps at this moment there are any number of people having the exact same thought of our identity. And we have all just smiled a little at the same time, tickled by the notion of each one of us considering our uniqueness, simultaneously.

Charles St. Charles III

If you'd prefer not to receive these field notes or newsletters just drop me a line. If you know someone else that would like to receive the field notes or newsletters either have them email me, or send their email address to me.