In the middle of a recently harvested field on a small farm in Ojai, a great blue heron stood silent and still, intently surveying the field. Field mice and young squirrels were abundant in the field, and one might venture close enough to those long, skinny heron legs to give the bird a chance to do the one thing it can do fast. It uses that long neck to strike with that oversize beak.
Those long legs look like the stock of a tall plant to rodents and fish and frogs. The bird’s head with its big beak looks lost in the clouds to the small critters the herons feeds on, so the prey often thinks those legs are a plant and safe to be near. That is why herons like to hold so still. They are acting like a plant. It is all about stealth.
On this morning, the field was being explored by another excellent predator — a young adult coyote — looking for the same small critters.
That coyote had its day’s work cut out, and it was going to be a long workday because it had pups in a hollowed-out den under a deadfall about a quarter-mile away. Pups are incessantly hungry, and the hunting coyote would have to be exceptionally successful with today’s hunt to make all tummies stop grumbling.
The watchful heron, with its neck stretched upward, had the advantage in height and was watching the coyote. When that heron twitched just slightly, the coyote’s sharp eyes caught it and the near-perfect predator stopped in its tracks.
The coyote’s game plan changed in an instant because one great blue heron would feed everyone in the den. This might be a short day’s work after all. The coyote circled the heron, coming closer as it circled. The heron just watched, appearing aloof.
When the coyote came close enough that a sudden attack seemed imminent, the heron asserted itself by stretching its neck even taller and letting out a horrific screech. If you have ever heard a great blue heron screech, you understand why they never, ever enter a singing contest. I’m sure a pterodactyl would sing a prettier song.
Superior height has a definite psychological advantage in the world of critters, and so does being loud. That coyote’s eyes grew wide as the bird stretched to its full height and let out a screech. Suddenly the coyote decided a day of hunting mice and squirrels sounded better than having a go at the big bird.
The truth is, I think the coyote could take the heron, suffering one or two major pecks on the head that would hurt for days. But the bird being tall and loud psyched out the coyote who beat a hasty retreat. Nature teaches fascinating lessons.
— Capt. David Bacon operates WaveWalker Charters and is president of SOFTIN Inc., a nonprofit organization providing seafaring opportunities for those in need. Visit softininc.blogspot.com to learn more about the organization and how you can help. Click here to read previous columns. The opinions expressed are his own.
