Welcome to Bird Island

Birds were on full display in the Galápagos Islands. It’s a destination for avid birders, but novices such as myself could revel in the bird kingdom there. And when I say “full display,” I don’t just mean there were lots of birds. I mean that it felt as if they were actually displaying themselves for us. The birds were completely indifferent to us; we could walk right up to within the prescribed six feet, and they didn’t fly away or even flinch. They just went about the business of being birds—building nests, feeding their chicks, performing mating rituals, or incubating their eggs.

The first birds we saw, flying above our ship, were great frigatebirds, large black seafaring birds with deeply forked tails. On our last day, on Genovesa Island, we walked among a nesting colony of these birds. Some were building nests, not by gathering their own twigs, but by stealing them from other species. Males who were looking for a mate inflated a large red pouch under their long hooked beaks, then waggled it while shaking their outstretched wings, making a drumming sound. There were masses of these birds, and at a glance, it looked as if red balloons were randomly trapped in the low shrubs.

There were three species of boobies, the blue-footed, the red-footed, and the nazca (it’s feet are grey). I actually witnessed the male blue-footed booby doing his mating dance. A female, larger than the male, was standing on a rock between two males. One seemed to be waiting in the wings while the other tried to impress the female by literally showing her one blue foot then the other, as if to say, “Look at my beautiful blue webbed feet. I am the most beautiful bird you’ll ever see. Please be my wife.” Occasionally, he would stretch his wings, straighten his neck, and pointing his beak to the sky, whistle a short one-note song. She feigned disinterest until the other male, realizing his feet weren’t as stunning as his rival’s, waddled away. The pair then nuzzled, and it was official.

We watched from our Zodiac boats as several blue-footed boobies dive-bombed for fish. Coming in at an angle or else straight down, the plunge can begin from a height of up to 100 feet, and they can dive to a depth of 80 feet, their brains protected from the high pressure by specialized air sacs in their skulls.

The red-footed booby was spectacular looking. Indeed it’s legs and feet are bright red, but it’s beak was a delicate turquoise color that faded into pink near its throat and had blue eye rings. The plumage is usually brown, but there was a white variant of stunning beauty.

We saw flamingos grazing on shrimp in a pond, looking like, well, flamingos! And a handful of albatrosses had just returned to the island to mate. Well, one adult albatross is more than a handful. It would be difficult to get even an armful of one, so massive are they. There were species of birds that are endemic to these islands, meaning they only exist here—a species of dove, hawk, owl, as well as several species of finches and mockingbirds.

The birds here, just being birds, reminded me that life can be simpler when we are just ourselves. When we resist the instinct to hide parts of ourselves, our true essence can shine. When we don’t flee from the scrutiny from others, we can go about the business of living our lives. When we are unabashedly ourselves, our individual beauty is apparent. We may not have blue feet, but our souls have infinite varieties of reflections of the divine. Put yours on full display for all creation to admire.

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