Midwinter heron

I really was wondering why I was swimming today. The water was three degrees at best and a cold wind was whipping in from the west.

Then just as some prehistoric light slid through the slate grey clouds I saw the heron.

There it was, large and ragged, perched on a ivy-clad branch sticking out over the surface of the water by the far bank. He looked a lot bigger than the one I managed to photograph a year ago.

Herons are always a little unsettling. Solitary and still with weird eyes. He didn’t look happy, hunched up against the coming storm, but he cheered me up.


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