Birds Of A Feather – And Birdwatchers – Flock Together

Dick Baker, president of the Pelican Island Audubon Society, and Nancy Irvin, an ardent birder, take to the woods to spot the many birds residing in Indian River County. Photo by Greg Hills

As he crouches down and adjusts the eyepiece on his powerful spotting scope, Vero Beach-based birdwatcher William Price turns to me and tells me in a voice just above a whisper, “The reddish egret. Take a look.” It’s a sunny, cloudless February morning and we are at Joe’s Overlook, an observation platform at Pelican Island National Wildlife Refuge. I have just met Price and he’s offered to show me what brought him here today. 

I bend down to look into Price’s scope and am rewarded with an up-close-and-personal glimpse at the strikingly beautiful two-and-a-half-foot tall reddish egret. Its body and wings are blue-gray, its neck and head are pale red and its pointed bill is salmon-pink with a black tip. It stands as still as a statue on its long, slender blue legs in the small salt-water marsh, its eyes focused on the shallow waters. 

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Price asks as he points out the graceful S-shaped neck and the elegantly long, reddish-brown plumage atop its head. He explains that it is a fairly rare bird and, like the snowy egret, nearly hunted to extinction in the 1800s. Its feathery plumes were in much demand to adorn women’s hats.

After more binocular-toting, bird-watching visitors join us, Price flips open his iPad to play me the distinct call of the egret. He pauses, smiles and says, “Only if you are interested. We birders tend to go on a bit, I confess.” I am interested. I happily listen as Price points out the other waterfowl in the pond. He soon segues into how he adopted the hobby of birding after a successful career as a radiologist. “After a lifetime of examining X-rays that were often a matter of life and death, I’ve found a hobby that is a lot less stressful,” he says.