A certain great blue heron comes back every March. He’s aloof, dignified, and extremely camera-phobic. Even though he’s fished our canal and marsh every spring and summer for the eight years we’ve been here, I’ve never caught him on camera until just the other day, and then only at a great distance.
I call him Old Blue. He probably goes by another name. But I could be right about the old part, since great blue herons have been known to live up to 24 years.
Old Blue must have grown weary of his bachelorhood because he seems to have traded his solitary, carefree existence to pursue the companionship of an elegant, azure flirtation whose name, I can only assume, is Bayou.*
|Bayou (left camouflage) and Old Blue (right camouflage)|
“This is love: not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins.” –1 JOHN 4:10 (NIV)