A wonderful bird is the pelican.
So begins a poem you may be familiar with from your primary school days. Written by Dixon Lanier Merritt, rarely has a line of verse rung truer. Indeed, awed by its magnificent wingspan and graceful flight and fishing skill, the ancient Egyptians worshiped the wonderful pelican as a god.
Sailors, meanwhile, have long embraced pelicans as a spirit animal that will brave fierce storms and rough seas to save them from drowning.
Pelicans certainly are breathtaking to watch, one moment floating high above the ocean then suddenly diving almost vertically, like a kamikaze aircraft at stunning velocity, and folding their wings up tight an instant before plunging into the water to catch a meal.
I bring up these wonderful birds today because my wife recently saw a California brown pelican float down from the sky and land a 3-point shot away from her on the wooden deck of an Airnb beach house at Faria Beach. This was the day leading into the night of the blood moon lunar eclipse and my much-better-half says seeing the pelican so up-close was as thrilling as the distant astronomical sighting.
The pelican encounter was all the more special because Lisa was enjoying another encounter that in recent years has seemed nearly as rare as a lunar eclipse: her childhood nuclear family was together, just the “Original Six” as they dubbed themselves – 90-year-old parents, three daughters, one son – for four days at the beach without spouses and children.
With one bed too few, one sibling had to sleep on an air mattress. With only one bathroom, the quarters seemed as crowded as the wood-panel station wagon they all used to pile into for family trips back when the siblings were ages 5-and-up instead AARP-and-up.
And without question, it was perfectly wonderful.
For a long weekend, 2022 became 1972. Board games sent phone screens directly to Jail without passing Go. Serene walks on the beach replaced hectic commutes to work. Laughter echoed in rhythm with the crashing waves.
The arrival of the pelican was perfectly apropos. After all, this wonderful bird’s ability to glide over the water’s surface in seemingly slow motion while scanning patiently for prey is said to symbolize the importance of slowing down in our own lives.
Additionally, in many cultures when a pelican swoops into view it is believed to represent the gift of spending time with family. Some people furthermore see its trademark oversized throat pouch as symbolizing an abundance of love. Enhancing these motifs, parent pelicans will prick open a wound in their chests to provide chicks with their own blood’s nourishment when starvation threatens.
The above interpretations are how I wish to see the pelican with the Original Six. Sadly, however, less sunny symbolism rolled in like heavy fog. You see, the breathtaking bird’s surprise visitation ended in heartbreak. After resting on the wooden deck through sunset, it curled up off in a corner through the night and come morning only its spirit had flown away.
But I choose to focus on the lively excitement of the pelican’s arrival, not its deathly departure. I choose to focus on not when – or if – the stars will align again for a reunion of the Original Six again, but rather on the laughs they just enjoyed. Here is one more laugh, courtesy of Mr. Merritt:
“A wonderful bird is a pelican, / His bill will hold more than his belican.
“He can take in his beak / Food enough for a week;
“But I’m darned if I see how the helican.”
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Essay copyrights Woody Woodburn
Woody writes a weekly column for The Ventura County Star and can be contacted at WoodyWriter@gmail.com. Follow him on Twitter and Instagram at @woodywoodburn. His SIGNED books are available at www.WoodyWoodburn.com.
Personalized Signed copies of WOODEN & ME: Life Lessons from My Two-Decade Friendship with the Legendary Coach and Humanitarian to Help “Make Each Day Your Masterpiece” and “Strawberries in Wintertime: Essays on Life, Love, and Laughter” are available at WoodyWoodburn.com