My Blue Heron...

Since I've lived here on this creek which originates from an underground spring, I've watched  many inhabitants (raccoons, squirrels, many breeds of birds, ducks and geese) with or without binoculars.  Each summer when it is hot with no rain, I am most apt to see the heron arrive for some hunting. I don't notice him until he moves because he blends in so well with the trees, water and rocks.  I love to watch him as he wades cautiously with his daddy-long-leg, skinny legs.  Last summer, however, I saw him fly overhead and heard him call (his voice is more like a bark than a quack of any kind).  I sat in the back yard and studied him for more than an hour.  The binoculars brought him much closer to me.  The sketch I did of him was better than the painting...I tend to over paint...this is too dark, but this is what I observed:

                                                       

by klr

On the high fir bough

spreading wings to the warm sun

stretching his torso,

blue pewter feathers undone

Twisting his long neck

forming letters S, C, Q

Profile of valor

 basking for this rare debut

A soldier at ease
cloaks himself in his own arms

grooming in the breeze,
routine for the avatar

Spying his next meal

he crouches down readying

Legs lift lubberly
casting a slender shadow

Wingspan to envy
he descends with slow drama

 camouflaged by reeds,

he lands knee deep in water 
Hushed statue on guard 

in a split second he snaps
His prey not clever
swam right into his beak trap

A change in weather,
and with a loud thunder clap
ends the private show,
A privilege to behold,
 as he looks my way
he glides into the nether