Dan the Man
This past week I lost a dear college friend of 50+ years named Dan.
When Dan and I were college freshman we considered ourselves elite dilettantes because we would trek to the local A&P after our late afternoon Music History class to buy a tin of caviar and a box of Ritz crackers. We gave little consideration to a reduced “coolness” factor when you are eating cheap caviar from the A&P (now I even wonder if it really was caviar). And we figured Ritz crackers had to be elegant as in the Ritz-Carlton. In our senior year we traded in Music History for World History Post Renaissance and the caviar and crackers for hard-boiled eggs and 25-cent beers at our local watering hole just so we could rehash the divergent paths of Prussia and Russia in the 18th and 19th centuries. And unlike so many other friends you make in college, we never lost touch since graduation day.
To make this loss even doubly more devastating, almost exactly one year ago I lost another dear college friend of 50+ years. A mutual college friend of Dan’s and mine. Also named Dan. And both Dans lived in Champaign, Illinois.
The news of the death of any loved one is a blow to us, no matter how stoic we try to be about it. Death is a part of life we tell ourselves. We believe it but the other truism is this: death sucks. And we grieve. But sometimes something can happen to bring us peace and maybe even a bit of joy during that grieving period.
This week I saw a Black-Crowned Night Heron twice. They aren’t necessarily considered rare in these parts this time of year, but they are somewhat elusive. Like my college friends and me, at least during our actual college years, they like to sleep during the day while blending in with their environment and then “prowl” at night. They also seem to be easygoing and coexist with other species quite well (see below).
From left to right: A Black-Crowned Night Heron, Snowy Egret, and Great Blue Heron looking for fish together. Photographed at South Platte Park in Littleton, Colorado
Black-Crowned Night Heron
When I encountered a beautiful Black-Crowned Night Heron the other day I was sitting on a park bench. He was “fishing” a bit until he took off flying right toward me, spreading his majestic wings in a graceful but powerful flight. He looked me right in the eye and almost seemed to acknowledge me until veering off into the sky heading on to a safe place for the night. I hadn’t heard the news about Dan at the time.
Black-Crowned Night Heron flies low over the lake at Sterne Park in Littleton, Colorado
The day after the shock of the news I went back to the spot where I had previously seen the Heron. I guess I was looking for solace at the least and maybe a sign from Dan at the best. Alas, he wasn’t there when I got there but this beautiful Snowy Egret was, and he temporarily put a smile on my face.
White Snowy Egret with fluffed feathers photographed at Sterne Park in Littleton, Colorado
I took a few photos and then put the camera down for a minute to admire the Egret. And suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, I caught a glimpse of a Black-Crowned Night Heron flying out of a grove of trees right into my view above the Egret. I snapped some shots and smiled and thanked him for stopping by.
Black-Crowned Night Heron in flight. Photographed in Sterne Park in Littleton, Colorado
But I had to quickly grab my camera yet again as I saw a second Black-Crowned Night Heron using the same flight pattern only to alight on another tree near the first Heron. They sat in the trees, fully visible for me to get photos as they looked at each other. I marveled that I had seen two of these beautiful birds in the same day at the same time. I named then both “Dan”.
Black-Crowned Night Heron in trees in Sterne Park in Littleton, Colorado
Another Black-Crowned Night Heron in trees in Sterne Park in Littleton, Colorado
Eventually, they left their perches to fly somewhere for the night. I know they had spotted me before, but my presence didn’t seem to bother them. One after the other both flew right toward me only to again “acknowledge” me and then fly literally into the sunset.
Black-Crowned Night Heron in flight over my head in Sterne Park in Littleton, Colorado
They had made my day. I sat for another 15 minutes or so just basking in the joy of seeing such a rare sight and what it might even mean. But as they say in the informercials, “But, wait, there’s more!” A third Black-Crowned Night Heron flitted its way through the same canopy of trees as the other two and then flew directly over me. It got so close over my head I couldn’t keep it in the frame (see awful example below).
This Black-Crowned Night Heron flew so close to me it more than filled the frame and thus the terrible photo!
But then I wondered, if the other two somehow conjured up Dan and Dan, who was this third Heron supposed to represent? I’ve lost two other good college friends over the last couple of years so why only one? Within minutes I had my answer. Black-Crowned Night Heron #4 appeared, following in the exact same “footsteps” as the others. So I assume the last two somehow “represented” Mark and Pete, the two others who rounded out the four friends I’ve lost.
The fourth and final Black-Crowned Night Heron flies near me at Sterne Park in Littleton, Colorado
Some cultures believe birds can carry the souls of the deceased. Others believe birds get sent to tell us our deceased loved ones haven’t forgotten us. No matter what, all I know is I felt a strong sense of peace from that point forward. Soar and rest well, my friend.
Black-Crowned Night Heron soaring to the sky. Composite photograph of two images. Heron photographed at Sterne Park in Littleton and sunset sky photographed a few days earlier. near same location.