Basking in the sun, an anhinga would appear at home on a fashion show runway or in a religious painting.

Aloft, they spread their wings and float on the thermals, looking like a flying cross. Swimming, their long, slender neck is held out of the water, body submerged like a turtle’s until they duck and dive to hunt.

A dagger like beak spears unwary fish. After a snack, they stride out of the water and find a sturdy place–a pipe, railing or culvert edge. They spread their wings in homage to the sun and pose with head thrown back in seeming ecstasy, beak pointing skyward. Motionless.

Until their satiny feathers dry and they can fly or swim back to their favorite fishing spot and start the endless cycle of wet/full and dry/hungry all over again.