It was an awesome sight to behold. As I was driving home from lunch at Munch’s I stopped, as I often do, on the shore of Lake Maggiore. An unusually large flock of white pelicans were congregating near the dam that separates the lake from Salt Creek.
Their snowy feathers glistened in the noonday sun as they dipped their golden orange bills into the dark water selecting a meal from the bright school of swimmers below. The silvery fish were effortlessly transferred from beak to pouch with a quick flick of the head followed seconds later by a discernable gulp to swallow them down. Heads were thrown back completing the final stage of the orgy. All the revelry sent diamond drops dancing over the backs of the feasters.
As each member of the flock was satisfied they lifted off from the surface of the lake with a slow pumping flap of their wings. They took off like 747s from the tarmac, first at low altitude and then executing a sharp angular rise to reach cruising altitude. Within a few moments they were all gone like a school yard after the bell.
The lake was left dark and empty; I too left walking slowly back to my car.