They follow the same pattern throughout the day, a dozen of them in an undulating flying wedge in the shape of the letter V about 30 feet above the dunes. They make way for the one flying next to them, moving in unison, mostly gliding, riding the heat waves rising from the beach.
They move silently, propelled effortlessly, seemingly deriving energy from some divine source from above, maybe below. As stealthily as they appear, they disappear, rising sharply then banking hard to the right, soaring over the houses and across the marsh and toward the bay.
They’ll return later, skimming the face of the waves, tips of their wings miraculously avoiding the water as they glide inches from the rolling ocean and foaming surf.
Whether it’s innate or they have to practice is hard to say, but they have it down, never a misstep nor a stumble, just pure gliding grace, a squadron of pelicans on parade.
This is a really gorgeous observation and brilliantly described.
There's nothing like a pelican parade. Love this, Rich!