Willa: Hi out there. I'm Willa and this is Woody, my husband. We're storks, as you can probably see by the fact that we are standing on one leg. We're a little new to this homepage phenomenon. Our youngest, Willard, told us that being on the Internet would make us cyberstorks. I told him Siberia's much too cold, thank you!

Woody: I think Willard meant we'd be online, dear.

Willa: I'm not standing on a line for anybody, Woody. Anyway, help me tell a little bit about us. Here; I have some pictures of you fishing for food for our chicks. I don't know why other birds (like herons) dive for fish when they could feed like us. We just open our beaks underwater and when we hit something that moves, BAM!, our jaws snap shut. sunfish are our favorite, but we wouldn't turn down a fine fat frog or insect either, right Woody?

Woody: Bugs!

Willa: Right, dear. Oh here, comes Willard!

Willard: Moooomm, the kites are calling me lizard neck!

WIlla: Oh don't listen to them. Our necks kept us alive when other were being hunted down for their fancy feathers. Nobody wanted us. We're too exotic.

Woody: You mean strange-looking.

Willa: No, dear, I mean exotic, unique, and fabulous! But even without hunters, we've become an Endangered Species because the water here has changed. We used to have a dry season when we could pluck fish out of the water faster than we could eat them. Now it's always high at the wrong time. We're wading birds, not dolphins! Wading, as in "no deeper than our knees."

Willard: But we're going to Georgia, right, Mom, where we can catch lots of fish. That's what you told Edmund.

Willa: Yes, but I'll be sorry to leave the Everglades. It's so beautiful here, where our nest looks down from the top of a bald cypress over the Gulf of Mexico. Someday, hopefully, we'll be able to return. Until then, you can see us riding thermals in Georgia. Watch us lift up on a gust of hot air and glide away.

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