The Anhinga are odd. They have paddle-like feet that make it awkward for them to land in trees. When they go swimming, they look like a snake gliding with half it’s body out of the water.  They dry their wet, raggedy looking wings by spreading them wide in the sun. Funny, I don’t see them in the rain. But when they fly overhead as I fish, they land on the pine tree quite clumsily wrapping those feet-paddles around a branch tightly and squawk loudly as if to say, “whoa, that was close.”