Heron Comes Home to Roost

Evening falls like an autumn leaf on Cove Lake.

Shimmering last light 

guides a Great blue heron 

home to roost.

Its lonely flight mirrored

against darkening water,

the heron slowly soars 

through fading evening light.

 I see grace, beauty and strength

in every stroke of

those blue-gray wings.

 No warrior's drone

could be display more stealth.

As it pinpoints its target,

banks left,

then readies itself for a landing.

Static energy pulls it forward.

With shoulders bent then straight,

motion brings movement

across the still lake,

 until only a few strokes remain.

Until rest and darkness

envelope the heron

who, like me seeks the quiet of sanctuary.

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Perfect Landing.

Just a few more shots of the Great blue heron with  help from a couple friends.  Tomorrow it is into the garden. I'll show you what's blooming!

Just look at that arch!

 Wheels descended. . .

. . . and perfect landing

The two in the control tower are impressed!

    I will add to the advice these books give you.  Forget about google adsense unless you have several hundred visitors a day.  Google will string you along for several months then drop your blog just before you meet the minimum profit.

Not What I Was Looking For

Sometimes you get what you are looking for and sometimes you get something different.  

    Last week I drove the river road slowly, looking for the  Belted kingfisher I had spotted several times, previously. I heard its raspy call but could not see the bird.  There was a group of Canada geese scattered across the field and floating in some left over flood water. But they are everywhere if you live along a large river. There was also a Mallard duck couple gently floating along, avoiding the geese. Mallards weren't what I wanted today.

I finally gave up on the kingfisher and was just pulling my car back onto the road when I noticed the Great blue heron. 

Fully dressed for breeding season, its plumage showed up spectacularly in the morning's light.  The beak, usually a dull yellow, was now tinted orangish as were its legs though they don't show that way in this photo. The thin, black plume curving off the back of the heron's head added grace to the bird's profile.

We often don't find what we expect but that is not always a bad thing.  When this happens, we are presented with opportunities to do and see the unexpected. It might mean that we see a Great blue heron in breeding plumage or it might mean that  we are offered a new life path.  The thing is, it is up to us to be awake - to be open - to notice the unexpected opportunity.  I could have said, "but I was counting on a kingfisher." Then I would have missed the heron. Even the heron was more than it first appeared.  I watched it and took a photograph then drove on home. Once I put the picture onto my computer, I realized that its feathers were more defined and different than those of herons I usually saw. So I studied it, did some research and learned something. I now know that the unexpected heron gave me not just a pretty picture, it gave me a chance to learn - a chance to grow.  It inspired me.  

   I paint a little (a very little) but I would like to try to paint the heron. Maybe I'll fail. Maybe my painting will look more like a tall chickadee.  We'll see. I'll let you know.  Meanwhile, I'm thankful for the unexpected.

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     That first book in the Amazon ads, The Great Blue Heron by Hayward Allen. received a good review in Amazon.  Have any of you readers seen it? Let me know, I'm thinking about it for  myself.

So Great

Warm, rainy weather brought a Great blue heron to the pond.

As usual, the heron was shy. As soon as I stopped my car, the heron flew.

Like a giant gray kite it sailed along the shore line.

Long legs dangled behind, then gracefully set down on the sloping shore.

Looking like 

it is wearing

a little helmet

and tiny eye

goggles, its 

streamlined 

head sits atop 

a

long neck

stretching 

down 

until 

it meets legs -

equal in 

length,

broken only

by a mound of 

feathers, a 

lump that 

forms its 

body.

It watches.

Then 

the bird

turned,

displaying

its full

beauty -

Elegant

in form.

Its 

skinny legs -

perfectly 

set 

under 

a body 

muted

in grays

and mauve.

Feathers

sweep off 

its breast.

Then up . . .

up . . . 

until all that

gray

surrenders 

to a clear

swatch 

of yellow

beak.

Great . . . blue . . . heron.

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Swamp Things

Yesterday I stopped by the Williamstown Wetlands, a work in progress.  I hope you noticed that I called it a wetlands, not a swamp. It used to be the swamp but since it the work began we have been encouraged to think of the area not as a swamp, but as a wetland and to call it so.  I still like saying, "The Swamp."  What is your opinion?  Swamp sounds intriguing, spooky, mysterious.  Wetlands sounds a bit more refined, regulated and understood.  But that is just my opinion.  What do you think? 

There has been alot of work done.  A gravel and boardwalk path now encircles the swamp/wetland.  There also in now an irregular strip of dirt in the middle.  It is actually two areas, one a small scooped up clump of land not quite connected to a longer strip.  These are inaccessible to humans.  I guess they are for turtles and for nesting sites for ducks and whatever else is attracted to the spots. 

It is much more accessible for viewing so perhaps that alone calls for "wetland" rather than "swamp."

Whatever we call it, it is an interesting place.  These herons agree.

From a couple of the largest water birds to some smaller ones . . .

The mama is watching with caution as her ducklings relax at the water's edge. 

She notices me, an intruder

As I get closer, even the ducklings pay attention as their mother rounds them up . . .

And heads for open waters.

So tell me,  swamp or wetlands?