My Sunday Photo: A new holiday maker

Just arrived for his winter vacation in the sun, is Mr. Wood Stork. He was stalking around on the other side of the lake, but I’m hoping he’ll venture over to my backyard so I can get a good closeup. Wood Storks stand about 3 feet tall and have a wingspan of about 5 feet, so he’s slightly smaller than the Great Blue Heron and the Great Egret.

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The Wood Stork is the only stork found in North America, so American babies must be brought by these, and not the White Stork as is tradition. I couldn’t resist sharing this cute stork poem with you.

You know the stork brings babies,
But did you also know
He comes and gets the older folks
When it’s their time to go?

Zooms right down and scoops them up,
Then flaps back out the door
And flies them to the factory where
They all were made before.

And there their skin is tightened up,
Their muscles all are toned,
Their wrinkles all are ironed out,
They’re given brand-new bones.

Ol’ bent backs are straightened up,
New teeth are added too,
Tired hearts are all repaired
And made to work like new.

Their memories are all removed
And they’re shrunk down, and then
The stork flies them back down to earth
As newborn babes again. ~

Shel Silverstein

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Happy Sunday!!

 

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77 comments on “My Sunday Photo: A new holiday maker

  1. Now, here is a poem for a cheerful start of the day. Must log on to my work computer now. Thank you for the laughs and your charming company, precious. Till later….

  2. What a wonderful array of birdlife you have Sylvia…have I met Mr Wood Stork before? I couldn’t remember! And thanks for the poem, love it πŸ™‚ xx

  3. So now we know the truth πŸ˜‰
    That’s one fine feathery coat he is sporting Sylvia ! I wonder if he’ll have a nice welcome from the *locals …

  4. Mr. Stork has such lovely feathers which I like his “tannish”-brown ones. I think the ironing our yhe wrinkles and shrinking the older ones into babies was a sweet and clever way of “recycling,” Sylvia. πŸ˜‰

  5. Very nice picture of Mr. Stork. If I were in your position, I would be crazy trying very hard to take pictures of wild life around.

    That poem is a complete story of how babies come and how old people go. I will remember this now.

    Happy Sunday!

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