Another favourite inmate of Ranganathittu basks on the banks baring fangs in eager anticipation of a tasty morsel of breakfast that might drop unwittingly from the tree (owing to a failed attempt to fly, perhaps). Till then, this Marsh Crocodile chooses to display both his supreme patience and gleamy whites -- both equally strong.
With an expression as stony as the rock he sits on, the eyes of the Great Stone-Curlew (or Great Thick-Knee) twinkle in quiet amusement at the surroundings he surveys with such a calm demeanour, almost making us wonder what is going on in his head.
Young Painted Storks feed blissfully unaware that their colors were being robbed from them. Was it ignorance, or the audacious confidence of the young in the knowledge that all they had to do was cross the threshold into adulthood and the colors would just flow back into them?
A pelican among young painted storks seems to muse: As I stand here I do feel strange, trying to blend in, trying to mingle, but then I do stand among friends and this does feel like home. Maybe that's why I feel on top of the world.
The Eurasian Spoonbills seem to say: "Some have stars in their eyes, but I create my own, sending millions of droplets into the sky. Tell me, does not a shimmering sky look better when I create my own starry sky with the shake of a feather?"
The Wings, stretched to impress, and the low flight (one of the many that would be undertaken) invite looks of awe, wonder, admiration and encouragement from friends -- and a suitably uninterested sibling dozing nearby.