It ain't easy being blue

The Little Blue Heron is not a regular visitor to Ontario and there are no breeding records in either of my atlases. However, I have once seen one in the province. Towards the end of the breeding season, those herons and egrets that failed to find a mate will suddenly expand their range and some of the southern species will end up far from their traditional climes. In this way I have seen cattle and snowy egrets, wood storks, glossy and white-faced ibis and once, just once, a little blue heron.

When I was in high school our family used to take a trip during the March break to the Gulf Coast of Florida. The wetlands there used to teem with egrets and herons. Every year we could tick off the common birds, in addition to the “fun” rarities like the reddish egret which feeds by throwing its wings up to form an umbrella in the hopes that fish will head towards the sheltering shade. It’s fun watching herons slowly stalk their prey. Skulking centimetre by centimetre, holding its head perfectly still. Slowly, the long neck will extend and then wham! (no, not George Michael) faster than the human eye can follow the great spear of its bill plunges forward to grab its unsuspecting prey. Occasionally, the heron won’t open its bill wide enough and will end up impaling the fish or frog it was going after.

And then comes the immense pleasure of watching the heron flip the slimy thing up into the air, catching it head first and trying to swallow it. These birds will grab fish that are thicker than their own necks, and yet they still manage (with several minutes of struggling) to get them down their gullets.

Unfortunately, wetlands are not seen as being commercially viable, so many are drained to make way for farmlands or coastal community developments. This has resulted in a population drop in little blue herons of 54% in the last 40 years.