"Look what I have brought for you my dear."
"Oh, how lovely, a stick!"
It was sunnier and warmer than on the previous visit, and not only were the herons more active, so were the humans, the ones playing tennis.
Blue blobs contain the trees with heron nests.
This is what makes this heron colony supremely odd. It is intermingled with clusters of tennis courts, 18 in all. Tennis is an extremely noisy activity, especially since it is now expected that you grunt or holler as loudly as possible whenever you whack the ball.
As all this whacking, grunting and hollering is going on, the herons remain stoically motionsless on their nests a few meters away--until someone arrives with another stick. After ten or fifteen seconds of high emotion, things settle down in the tree tops whilst down below the grunting, etc., continues unabated.
I can't figure out which is more peculiar: that the herons completely ignore the tennis players, or that the tennis players completely ignore the herons.
And why don't the people in the nearby apartments who complain about the heron squawking not give a hoot about the grunting?
I am exquisite. I will bring you a fresh stick, my love.
View from near center court.