The great heron’s presence lingers by the river’s edge.
It’s slow, measured and stealthy trail leaves the water and here, it paused upon its daily journey.
Was it eating its prey or did the magnificence of sunrise hold it captive for a divine moment?
The next step through the mud is missing, suddenly, it took to the air with that powerful deep wingbeat, typical of its kind.
All around us are the tales of the night and early dawn; a rich natural calligraphy, resonant with meaning.
We once read this feral script as we moved within the animate tapestry of being.
There is a richness and joy to be found in relearning the ways of the wild.
Photo courtesy of the author.