Grenouille Crue

There was quite a spectacle this morning at the pond. I was chatting with J when a Great-blue Heron walked up from the water onto the grass. It soon went back down the bank and into the channel, where it took three quick steps, darted its neck, and came up with a large frog.

David Sibley often states that herons don’t stab their prey; they grab them with a quick snap of their bill. In this case, however, I think in its haste, the heron actually did stab the frog.

For the next five minutes or so, we watched as the bird made sure its prey was dead, then—in a series of motions—it flipped the frog around so it was ready to go head-first down the bird’s gullet.

Once the frog was pointed in the right direction, it didn’t take long for the heron to finish the job. (Click on the images to see them in their gory detail.)

Most days I’ll walk around the pond, seeing the same birds doing the same things. But I walk every day, because on any day, there might be something surprising.

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