LSU Lakes, Sunday. We got word through the grapevine that the white pelicans had returned.
|Can we stop the beak sync now?|
|No, Clyde, we're doing the beak thing until I say so. Quit showing off your feathers.|
|I'm done, Matilda. You can flap that beak all you want.|
|Dangit, these cormorants are messing up our routine. Where's our stage director?|
|That's better, except now the turtles are off! Sigh.|
|Oh, yeah, much more like it.|
Pelicans of three, let them be.