The Flight of the Heron

"(...) Then she saw the huge bird. It stood close to shore, its tall legs looking fragile although in fact they were very strong, its long neck and long sharp beak bent towards the water, searching for fish, its feathers a darkbright blue. A Great Blue Heron. Once populous in this part of the country. Now barely seen.

Then it spotted the boat, and took to flight. A slow unhurried takeoff, the vast wings, spreading, the slender elongated legs gracefully folding up under the creature`s body. Like a pterodactyl, like an angel, like something out of the world`s dawn. The soaring and measured certainty of its flight. Ancient - seeming, unaware of the planet`s rocketing changes. The sweeping serene wings of the thing, unknowing that it was speeding not only towards individual death but probably towards the death of its kind. The mastery of the heron`s wings could be heard, a rush of wind, the wind of wings, before it mounted high and disappeared into the trees above a bywater of the river. "

Margaret Laurence - The Diviners