As we walked along the shore of Lake Ladora at the Rocky Mountain Arsenal Wildlife Refuge last week, my friend interrupted to point and say, “Watch the water right over there. Something’s going to pop up.”
She was correct. A Double-crested Cormorant emerged and then went underwater again, only to reappear next to the lone cormorant I’d been calling The Sentinel.
August 20, 2021
The Sentinel had been perched alone on that rock while a sunning** of approximately 15 cormorants gathered on a cluster of large rocks about thirty feet away and I wondered whether the swimming cormorant was making a play for the sentinel role by loudly splashing with its flapping wings. Or, maybe the lone cormorant wasn’t keeping watch at all. Maybe that particular water bird is like me and requires time alone to recharge. Perhaps a better name would be The Introvert.
Confession: I’m taking especial delight in not only having a photo of two cormorants for this edition of Twofer Tuesday, but also the fact that they’re Double-crested. 🙂
** collective nouns for cormorants also include a “flight,” “gulp,” “rookery,” and “swim.”
Tracy Abell 
I can’t recall ever seeing a cormorant here in the Pacific Northwest. When I worked at the University of Washington and crossed the bridge over Lake Washington everyday, my favorite part of the bus ride was watching the Common Loons and Great Blue Herons.
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That would be such a lovely way to begin your day…loons and herons. I envy you that. And I hope you sight a cormorant in the wild someday soon.
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A sunning? A gulp? Love those collective nouns! And this post, which made me think of our local grey heron, who is usually solitary, but who is sometimes joined by an egret, and (rarely) another heron.
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Aren’t those wonderful words? I’m envious of your local grey heron (and egret). I’m always so happy when I see them but now that the neighbor no longer has a koi pond, they don’t show up much anymore. 🙂
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