Nobody called the meeting, but everyone showed up.
Pelicans, cormorants, gulls — each species keeping to its own unspoken section of the old dock remnants, presiding over the Gulf with the practiced indifference of creatures who have never once questioned their right to be exactly where they are.
Cedar Key moves at its own pace, and so do its birds. These weathered pilings — green with algae, salt-worn, long since separated from whatever dock they once held up — have become something better: a parliament of seabirds, a perch for watching the slow silver Gulf stretch out to the horizon and back.
Shot on a cloudy afternoon on Florida’s forgotten Gulf Coast, this image is equal parts natural history and quiet comedy. The cormorant with his wings spread wide is either drying off or making a point. The pelicans aren’t listening either way.
Available as a matted print, canvas, or metal print.
