Too much?

On a drifting board
which is soaked through and splitting,
there he is this morning like always,
a bright white pelican.

He stands out against
the green=brown of the lake
and the grey upon grey
of the drizzling sky.

He’s hunched into himself,
withdrawn and protective.
But usually I see him
relishing the sun,
which shines happily just after dawn,
warming him and drying him
as he picks the pests from under his feathers
and holds his wings out wide
in thanksgiving,
like a worshipper.

His life is so much about water,
floating on it,
paddling in it,
slamming down into it from above
to stun the fish he swallows whole
for breakfast.

And so I wonder today
about his mood.
How does he feel about all this damp?
Is he okay with it?
Or does he miss the contrast of
sun above and water beneath?
Does it maybe piss him off
to find himself
in this world of
water everywhere?