Heron’s Rest

Heron’s Rest


When I was a young woman, my sister called me Heron. I can’t remember why; it may have been a ‘play’ on my name, or a reference to my fascination with the majestic bird itself.

Fast forward to the current time, and a spiritually-minded close friend is of the opinion that when I (personally) have an up-close and personal sighting of a heron – it must mean I’m ‘in the zone’ and magical things will happen. Whilst I’m skeptical, I’m not averse to a bit of magic. So, when two herons took flight from a flooded field, and crossed in front of my car – so close, that the last of the pair’s trailing leg nearly touched the bonnet – I was thrown into Heron reverie.. and have not yet recovered.


Much like this bird I photographed at Dublin Zoo – who looked sleepy and in need of a morning coffee..


..once he has finished the incomplete task, for which he just received this tongue-lashing.
No rest for the wicked.


Next time – light the blue touch paper, and retire to a position of superiority. Or failing that, the roof of the nearest shed.


..or beat a hasty retreat behind a handy boulder.


Is it a bird or is it a plane? No it’s a Royal Navy Harrier Jump-Jet – one of the most extra-ordinary pieces of machinery ever made. Living close to RNAS Yeovilton, also known as HMS Heron, in Somerset,for many years ..and with several serving members of the Royal Navy amongst family and friends, I was once lucky to be taken into the control tower to witness them taking off at close quarters. Another Heron ‘connection’.

However, getting up close and personal with the Heron has never been as easy as it is at the confluence of the rivers Tarff and Dee, here in Dumfries and Galloway, on Kirkcudbright’s matchless estuary – where I took the images at the head, and foot of this post.


Here, Herons – including me – have found a haven.


About largelyhelen

Designer, photographer, writer.
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