The punk heron nearby her starts to head into the water.
Hardly a ripple is created as it elegantly raises one leg up and glides it back down....as if there's no surface of water there to break.
She's sure it knows exactly what it's doing.
It's been watching those jumping fish with her and now it's time to eat them.
Once it's a meter or so out from the shore it stands still
The little fish are an arms' length away, but there's no hurry,
Punk heron waits til the fish come to him.
When they do he still remains motionless until the timing is absolutely perfect....then in one quick motion, his beak dives into the water, pulls out a jumpy fish, his head jolts back and the fish is swallowed.
End of story.
Heron is fed.
Fish scatter for a bit....then return to be food again once they've forgotten what just happened.
She's sure punk heron knows she's watching him.
Often he's there when she is and she's made the effort to know him.
She's learnt to move slowly and smoothly past him...
She's learnt to not to get into his space or make loud noises that annoy him.
It took her a while to learn this.
How to be a punk heron herself.
Many times she'd be walking too fast or not see him before she got to his spot and he'd fly away to teach her to be more careful next time
Over time, though, with practice, she mastered the art of being a punk heron and would glide past him or sit near him and he'd let her....as if there were no barriers existing between herself and the bird...
So much she's had to practice in the last 20 years.
So much she's had to un- learn and re-learn in order to be where she's now.
She sighs and notices how tired she feels.
The soft sand is tempting to sleep on....
But the big sign nearby that will fine her $200 FOR CAMPING AT THE RIVER and the reality of being a single, lone woman in a pretty fucked up world comes back to her and she makes her self get up, put her shoes back on and begin the journey home.....
( to be continued..)