In the morning as I type, a great blue heron quietly glides in and gently lands on the dock. The dock can be seen from the window, next to the computer, and is a place where ducks rest and herons fish.
The heron takes his time to arrive. There is a transition period between, gliding in, to actually "being" on the dock. Upon landing, he steps a bit to position himself properly, slightly flaps his wings, and preens his feathers to make sure that none of his feathers are ruffled. Then bobs his head several times with a rhythm that makes you want to swallow. Head bobbing on that long heron neck, is something that defines the essence of what a heron is. Next he surveys the surroundings, and slightly repositions himself. Finally he straightens his neck, and stands full. At this moment, he has arrived, and starts patiently staring into the pond for the next meal. All these movements look slightly awkward, but the heron does them in such an elegant way. It takes time to be majestic.
Make Good Pots,