The Heron
Stately and resolute, he stands,
Along the margin of the river,
Watching,
Waiting.
Blue tinged gray feathers,
Sharp eyes fixed on the water.
Alone but not lonely,
Nature’s majesty separating him from the world,
Both of us in the same place searching for something,
Him for fish,
And I for what humans have always looked to Nature for, understanding.
As we search,
The warm setting summer sun gently shines a golden hue against his mighty wings,
The light then seems to drift down to that cool, rushing water,
And dances upon the ripples.
Then like lightning against the soft natural scene,
The Heron strikes.
Beautiful blue-gray feathers coil as his long neck extends,
His beak with swift agility pierces the golden-hued foam,
In an instant, he’s back in resolute form,
This time with a Brown Trout wiggling from his unrelenting beak.
Alone but not lonely,
We both stand by that river,
Searching for something,
For him, the trout was a hard-earned reward,
And for me,
Seeing such natural harmony,
My hard-earned reward,
Understanding that there is much to all of life’s small and intricate moments.
-James D. Vespoli
