Dan's Feathursday Feature: Black-crowned Night-Heron

There's a large dead tree leaning over a lagoon in a park near home where, if you only gave it a cursory glance, you'd think that someone was camped nearby, and was hanging their t-shirts to dry. That's where the local Black-crowned Night-Herons like to roost, and it's not unusual to see four or five of them hanging out in the inner branches of the tree, head tucked under a wing, impersonating laundry hung out to dry. (Take a close look at the photo of densely matted branches and see if you can find the five herons resting there.)

As you'd guess from their name, you won’t typically find Black-crowned Night-Herons out and about during the day. When the sun is high, they are lying low, hidden in snags or thickets along the water's edge, surprisingly inconspicuous for such a large bird.

When I see them resting, I often wonder how nocturnal birds like the night-herons manage to get a good day’s sleep. I remember summers at my cousins’ house, when we had to tip-toe around the house all day if my uncle Curly was working the graveyard shift. Auntie Belle would shush us, or flush us outside if we started to get loud enough to wake the sleeping bear. But you can be sure there is no one to silence the noisy Cardinals and Blue Jays and Crows and Red-winged Blackbirds—not to mention the frequent police sirens that set the resident coyotes to howling. I can imagine the somnolent heron making note of where each inconsiderate bird lives. Then late at night, she’ll pay them a visit, blast a loud squawk at close range, and chuckle as the day birds jump out of their beds.

Sometimes during the day you can catch a Black-crowned Night-Heron on the prowl, or in the open, just soaking up the sun. Early morning is my favorite time. Whenever I see one standing at the edge of a pond at daybreak, positively gleaming in the early morning sun, I understand why I rolled out of bed so early.

Black-crowned Night-Herons are the most widespread herons on earth, thriving everywhere except Australia and Antarctica. I think they stopped going to the Antarctic because they didn’t like being mistaken for penguins. Here in the Midwest, their size and flight style might make you assume that’s a Crow you see silhouetted against the darkening evening sky. Look more closely, and you may be rewarded with a view of a Black-crowned Night-Heron on her way to avenge some lost sleep.

Dan's Feathursday Feature is a regular contribution to the COS blog featuring the thoughts, insights and pictures of Chicago birder, Dan Lory on birds of the Chicago region.