A Lesson in Life from a Roseate Spoonbill

“How things look on the outside of us depends on how things are on the inside of us.”

 A typical morning morning walking the trail getting some exercise and taking some shots. At this particular spot along the slough about one-half inland from Galveston Bay I came across a roseate spoonbill feeding alone in the water.

As I stopped to take a few shots I quickly noticed the roseate wasn't walking and feeding as I have seen them do many times before. The roseate's I've seen always walk in the water with their spoonbill below the surface and move it back and forth, left and right, like a wiper blade on a car. This spoonbill, alone where I normally have seen two or more together, was flapping it's wings to get enough height to move from one spot to another. It make continuous short flights to feed in different spots.

It was great to take photos because I was able to get some good views of the beautifully expanded pink wingspan, but I was puzzled as to why the roseate was behaving in such a manner. My only thought as I watched and took pictures was maybe this roseate never learned the technique as I had seen in all the others. I moved on, took more shots in various other spots along the trail, but thought of that roseate most of the morning as I was both puzzled at it's actions and curious how good some of the shots were going to come out.

Later that morning when I got home, over a cup of coffee and breakfast, I was scanning through the pictures I had taken to see if I took any good ones. As I was going through them on my large flat panel screen I saw what I didn't see through the lens of the camera. The roseate behavior was no longer a mystery to me. Although at first I was captivated by the beauty of the bird in the photo, as I looked closer and studied it more, I was saddened by what I saw. The roseate made those short tiny flights to move and feed in the water because it had a broken leg and the bone was protruding near the knee. 

"Wow!" I said to myself, leaning back in my chair and thinking. There I was enjoying the beauty of the bird, hoping to take a great photo, not understanding the movements of the bird, only to come to realize that the bird was struggling to survive. A sunken feeling came over me.

How often in life do we quickly see something and come to judgement, not knowing why someone behaves the way they do? How often to see the beauty or success of another and not come to think that their struggles may be greater than ours and their pains stronger? How often do we judge and condemn the failures and problems of others without knowing the path that brought them there or opportunities and chances they didn't have or didn't take that put them on a path they would rather not be on today?

If our minds could freeze the moments we experience daily to give us time to analyze it as a photographer may analyze his or her work, I think we'd see more and feel more. In this fast paced world where we are so much in a hurry to get through the day and through the week, to finish a project or take our next vacation, if for only one part of the day we can think more about what we are seeing and experiencing and allow ourselves to feel and react to it, our lives will be more fulfilling: we would be less critical and more compassionate.

Every day is precious, open up your soul, be on-guard for those special moments and make a difference.