Associated Press

Great blue herons touch beaks in a courtship ritual earlier this month on an island of the James River in Richmond.

RICHMOND -- A spectacular rite of spring, usually hidden from human eyes, is unfolding within walking distance of Shockoe Slip.

Great blue herons -- 4-foot-tall birds with 7-foot wingspans -- are courting and building nests on an island in the James River just south of 12th Street.

Experts believe the rookery, or breeding colony, of about 30 nests is a first for the city. Bird-watchers first noticed the colony last spring, when it had only about a dozen nests.

Herons normally conduct their private affairs far from human hubbub.

"It's really extraordinary -- you are right in the shadow of the skyscrapers down there," said Jerry Uhlman of Richmond, author of three bird-watching books.

"It's a real treasure for downtown Richmond," said Uhlman, who writes a monthly column for the Times-Dispatch.

Great blue herons look like living vases -- oval bodies, long necks -- fitted with daggerlike beaks and spindly legs.

About 50 yards from the river's north bank, female herons stand in their nests of sticks, waiting for their mates to glide in with new twigs to build up the abode.

Both sexes flaunt their feathers -- herons' head and chest plumes are long and showy during courtship.

One afternoon last week, two of the Richmond herons stood face to face and touched beaks -- sort of a combination of kissing and crossing swords. Then the birds arched their necks to form a nearly perfect heart.

No one knows how much affection herons share, but experts say most of the sensuous-looking courtship is the programmed product of evolution.

In another week or two, most of the birds will probably be incubating eggs -- and the colony will shift from singles bar to maternity ward.

The eggs will hatch about a month later, and people can watch the chicks growing and being fed. The young birds begin to fly about two months after hatching.

The colony will start to break up in mid- to late summer, but some herons will continue to roost and feed here until they migrate south.

The Richmond colony is part of an environmental success story.

Federal and state protections helped the birds recover from slaughter by plume hunters. But the pesticide DDT -- which worked its way into fish -- again devastated herons and other fish-eating birds in the mid-20th century. The federal government banned DDT in 1972, and the herons bounced back again.

In Virginia's coastal plain -- which goes from downtown Richmond to the coast -- herons increased from about 2,400 pairs in 1975 to more than 10,000 pairs today.