Play the song, “Here come old flattop he come groovin’ up slowly…”
Have you ever seen a waist-high fluff of snow-white feathers plunge its face into the slimy mud? Then you’ve likely seen a wood stork. It’s like nobody raised them to keep their Sunday best clothes clean. Yet, those clothes somehow stay snow-white. The Audobon Society calls the wood stork an “awkward-looking bird on land that soars like a raptor in the air”. I take offense to that. They are majestic to me.
It’s not easy to see the wood stork’s pink feet because they are usually standing in shallow water. It’s also not easy to see the bird’s head. The National Park Service calls them bald-headed. I consider that a euphemism. It looks like it is caked in mud, as if God intended it to get dirty.
I’ve seen it fifty times, and it’s still startling to see a wood stork face-plant the marsh. You don’t even have to be in the marsh to see it. They like to hang out in the ditches along Butler Boulevard. You don’t see them along A1A because there are no watery ditches.
Of course, you’re far more likely to see wood storks around Guana Lake. If someone is wader-fishing at Guana Dam, a wood stork will soon show up to see what’s available near the shore and maybe catch some scraps from the fisherman.
This was a frequent treat of residents of South Ponte Vedra in the 1970s. One day in 1973, new residents of South Ponte Vedra saw “Guano Lake” (as they thought it was named) shrink into a labyrinth of puddles. They immediately called the authorities, thinking a developer had drained the lake to build housing. The Game and Freshwater Fish Commission assured them it was normal wildlife management. The marsh needs a good flood to produce plenty of critters for the birds to eat. Then it needs a good drain to force those critters into condensed areas, easier for the birds to find. Birds will nest where the food looks plentiful. More food means more nesting means more birds.
This flood-and-drain generally happens naturally. I think it happened when I was on Guana Lake on my paddleboard. After a few hours, my paddle was sticking in the mud. Soon, my rudder was getting stuck. There was no one around and the birds were seeking out trees for sundown. My imagination conjured up images of spending the night on my board with mosquitos and alligators. I was lucky to find a channel back to the Six Mile Landing boat ramp. I doubt I’ll ever try that again, no matter how much wildlife is out there.
This hydrocycle was an exciting lesson for South Ponte Vedra residents, too. But the same day they learned Guana was protected, the commission also informed them that the land was privately owned and up for sale. That was devastating news. The local residents fought for years for the state to buy the land before a developer got ahold of it.
Wood storks, in particular, depend on a predictable “hydrocycle”. Unfortunately, the hydrocycle is no longer predictable due to agriculture and global warming. In 1984, the wood stork was placed on the Federal Endangered Species list. That same year, local activists won their campaign for the state to purchase Guana. Since then, conservation programs have elevated wildlife levels, and the wood stork graduated from “endangered” to “threatened” in 2014.
South Ponte Vedra Association wined and dined the Guana decision-makers with hot-dogs and cokes (1984).
I asked local wildlife artist Rashid Dukes if he would do some pieces for my Ponte Vedra Wildlife collection. Two weeks later, he showed me a wood stork he was sketching with pencil. He only had the stork’s head so far. It was the first time I had ever seen that prehistoric-looking face clearly. It genuinely conveys the peace I feel when I watch this giant bird tiptoe quietly through the marsh. I thought it was so great I asked Rashid for just the head for this post. This pencil sketch allows me to see the stately personality behind the quiet shock of black on white. You can get this picture on a canvas, a pillow, tote bag, jigsaw puzzle, all kinds of things. Check it out on Pixels.
