Heron

Acrylic on canvas.

We see herons everywhere now, even one flying high above our house on our way home from walking beside the lake. We wonder if it followed us. I wonder what the heron might mean, if it has a message for us.

Maybe it's the swampy home, knee-deep in muck and mire. Focused on finding its next meal, recklessly disregarding the place where it plants its feet.

Maybe it's fierce determination in the hunt, its beak precision-carved for the fish it's meant to kill.

Maybe it's a question mark, its slender neck poised to wonder.

Maybe it's aggression, tall and proud. Sleek and ambitious. Ready to make things happen against the odds - alone.

Maybe it's a mother, guarding her nest fiercely from invaders. Hunting fish to bring home to her young with single-minded focus.

Maybe it is solitude and silence. Clarity of mind and proximity to water.

Maybe it's balance, sure-footed on any terrain.

Maybe it's wisdom. Potential. Folded wings perched to spread wide.

Maybe it's a bird. In spring, my children tossing rocks in its direction hoping to catch its attention. Maybe it's time to go home.