Otis Returns “I want to speak with so many things and I will not leave this planet without knowing what I came to find out, without solving this affair, and people are not enough. I have to go much farther and I have to go much closer.” – Pabl

Otis the Grebe
“I want to speak with so many things and I will not leave this planet without knowing what I came to find out, without solving this affair, and people are not enough. I have to go much farther and I have to go much closer.” – Pablo Neruda
November’s chill crept in from the north, ushering in the true snowbirds. Willets, dowitchers, and godwits now huddle on the south pass oyster bars, their chatter a welcome reunion for the local oystercatchers, who endured a lonely summer with only garrulous gulls for company.
The green and black-crowned herons’ nesting grounds in the upper creeks gleam, revitalized by tireless volunteer greenies who prepped the nursery for their return. One late-hatched heron lingered this year, feasting on the fiddler crab bounty along Brandt’s Island. The crab crop seems thinner than last year’s, but the food chain hums on.
For the fifth year running, a solitary pied-billed grebe has returned to the south pass—a faithful visitor deserving a name. Otis feels fitting, though I’m open to other suggestions. His quiet presence is a comforting constant.
A fleeting glimpse of a black-crowned night heron and a brush with the elusive, ghostly bittern lifted my spirits after a slow summer. Most thrilling, though, is a discovery in the upper creeks: delicate, teacup-sized nests, likely woven by palm warblers. These intricate creations reveal a hidden symbiosis—spider webs lace the twigs, binding the nests, while strands adorned with spider eggs serve as nurseries. The tiny spiders hatch, devouring parasites that threaten the fledglings, only to later become food for the growing birds. Clam Bayou unveils such wonders when you train your eyes to see.
Above, black vultures circle, awaiting nature’s cue to clean up as falling temperatures turn tilapia belly-up. Bald eagles have returned, too. On a recent photo tour with Denise from Pennsylvania, a massive male eagle executed a breathtaking drop-swoop-grab on a mullet right before us, only to be chased off by a territorial osprey. The osprey nesting posts, however, remain quiet; a small nest from last year was lost to a recent storm.
The white pelican migration has begun, a spectacle of grace. I was fortunate to witness three glide into the bayou against a clear blue sky, their bills—capable of holding three gallons of water—living up to the adage that their beak can hold more than their belly can. (See recent clips on the NATURE VIDEOS page for more.)

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