It sat and watched. Barked once more. Then, it flew away, somewhere deeper into the stand. I saw it land on another branch but couldn’t see the silhouette any longer. The morning light was still too new, too dim, too low on the horizon. Bark.
When I set up the date with Al from Ebro Delta Birding for a full day tour of the Ebro Delta along the Catalonian coast of the Mediterranean Sea, he asked me, “Do you have a target bird?” “Flamingo,” was my response. He assured me that wouldn’t be a problem. I tried to imagine a place where flamingos were so common they wouldn’t be hard to find.
