This is a Roseate Spoonbill.
This is my dad today. Our story takes place many years ago. But now, as then, he is a man of great passions.
When I was 14 we took a trip to Sanibel Island in Florida. My sisters were in college so it was just mom, dad, my brother and I.
One day we decided to visit a nature preserve. We learned that it was a breeding ground for the endangered Roseate Spoonbill.
There were signs about the spoonbill. They explained that this majestic animal was threatened because it’s breeding area was dwindling.
They explained that this preserve was one of the few places left in the United States for these birds to nest.
They explained that the Roseate Spoonbill was a rare natural treasure.
As we rounded a corner in the park we came to a small bank on the inlet. There were three spoonbills standing at a distance in the still water.
It was silent. My father was moved by the scene.
“Boys, boys look” he said. I don’t know if his eyes were welling with tears but I like to think they were.
We stood on the sandy bank and admired the birds.
Dad knelt between us, put his arms around our shoulders.
“This is a special moment” he said. “These beautiful birds are endangered. Their numbers are dwindling.”
He squeezed us close as we watched together. “The day is not far off that they may be gone forever.”
And then he said with great reverence: “You will never see this many Roseate Spoonbills at the same time for the rest of your lives.”
We watched the three lonely spoonbills for a second more. But only a second.
Because we were distracted by a strange sound in the distance. It grew louder.
It became a cacophony.
And then from behind the trees far across the water a great dark mass rose up.
The noise grew deafening.
The sky grew dark.
Thousands of Roseate Spoonbills filled the sky.
They filled our field of view, drowned out the silence, and settled in their great abundance on the trees, on the bank, and in the water. Everywhere a spoonbill could fit, a spoonbill was seen.
This was 25 years ago.
Even today when dad gets a little intensely romantic…
…as he often does…
…we smile at one another and say, “Roseate Spoonbills.”
Archived Post
This post is archived from my account on li.st, a social media app that shut down in 2017. Some posts have been edited slightly to fix typographical errors and correctly represent the gender of some individuals. You can view the full archive here.