The Pelican is very poetic. I sometimes watch the sunsets from Inspiration Point on the Pacific here in Corona del Mar, California. On certain times of the year, like now, the pelicans soar in their lazy v-formation along the beach and bluffs, riding the uplifting breeze off the ocean. They soar and soar, seldom, it seems, flapping their huge wings. It is so poetic, so romantic.
Then when hungry, they glide over the water, high enough to see what’s for supper or lunch below the surface, then fold their wings and dive straight down to enter the ocean with their expectant long beak almost without a splash to catch that fish. And then up and off again, gliding a few inches off the ocean surface, hardly, it seems, ever flapping the wings.
Sometimes I notice that off the tail end of a winged formation is a loner, a bird that seems to be an individual, or an outcast. He moves from side to side and never gets in line with the others. Or maybe he had too much to eat. But, it is fun to watch. There is one in every flock—even human.
What a gorgeous and artistic sight to watch those winged creatures. Inspiration Point is where to be.