It was a nice afternoon at the beach, if a bit cool. With temperatures hovering around 55 degrees, I decided to brave it. I reasoned that if I kept low enough to the ground, the chilly wind wouldn’t find me. The sky was cloudless, so surely the sunshine would warm me.
I like to head to the beach sometime after Christmas and New Year’s. The rates and crowds are at their lowest, and the weather is always warmer than it is in Birmingham, even if it’s not quite balmy. It’s hit or miss. Some winters, the temperature has hit at least 70 degrees.
This day was quite pleasant, so donning my lightweight puffer coat over leggings and a long sleeved top, I carried my bag of supplies to the beach. I had left my beach chair at home, so I spread out my towel, a smallish one, and took off my coat, socks, and shoes. Then I settled onto my back, wiggling my butt from side to side to contour the underlying sand to my backside. I held my new read, a paperback novel recommended by my sister, in front of my face, blocking the direct sun. It was warm enough in black leggings and shirt, and soon enough, I as absorbed in the perfect beach read, quick and easy and fun.
When my back began to ache a bit from lying in this position, I turned over to my stomach. This is no easy feat at my age, on the sand, but with a few grunts, I managed to lift my butt and hoist it up and over without flinging too much sand. I propped myself up on my elbows, my puffer coat now supporting my chest. I read on.
Chomp!
I felt something lightly clamp down on my right foot, at the instep. I squealed, and with lots of sand flying, rolled over and abruptly sat up. And was eye to eye with a brown pelican. His beak was open, and I could see the blunt sawtooth ridged edge running down the length of both the top and bottom bills, his pouch hanging loosely. We eyed each other warily. Well, I was wary. Evidently, he was hungry. He wasn’t belligerent or aggressive, just curious. I guess my foot’s livid pinkish-grey coloration, in contrast with my black legging, presented the apparition of a fish. A pelican tried to eat my foot!
A young couple walked up, asking if I was OK. Evidently they had been following the pelican as it ambled down the beach. They saw it head toward me and wondered if it would try to get into my beach bag looking for food. They said that they didn’t want to startle me by calling out. So the pelican startled me by biting down on my foot instead. The couple tried to chase him off for me, and then they kept walking down the beach.
But the bird stayed. Looking at me out of the corner of his eye, he continued to stare at my foot. What was so enticing about my foot? I tried to shoo him away, but he would scamper away a few yards, but always circled back, sidling closer, eyeing me sideways. Eventually, he flew away and bobbed on the surface of the ocean.
I was no longer interested in my novel. I had to keep watch over the pest of a pelican.
This was the strangest, most bizarre wildlife encounter I have ever had. I don’t know what to make of it. It makes no sense, yet it happened. It did no damage to my foot at all. No blood was drawn, no toothmarks or beak-marks were made. If I were alone and the couple had not witnessed the aborted feast, no one would believe me. I took a picture of the bird, but it’s no proof that this event really happened.
Inexplicable things happen. It makes life interesting. We can try to decipher meaning or make sense of them, but in the end, we just have to accept them. A bizarre diagnosis, a stunning coincidence, an unexplainable event—there are mysteries that leave us in wonder, confusion, or dismay. We can waste a lot of mental time trying to understand why a pelican would try to eat one’s foot, but it’s all part of life I guess.
When I finally gave up on the idea of a relaxing afternoon reading on the beach, I gathered up all my gear and made my way back to my room, while scanning my surroundings for wily wildlife.