Heron

Walking to the bus stop after a hospital visit, in an unfamiliar, dusty suburb, I pass a small park on the left with a stream which dives under the road, and here only a few feet away, by the water, is a heron — surely larger than life and with each feather accurately modelled. I think how grateful we should be that some municipal person has commissioned this work of art and placed it where it can give pleasure to passers-by. But startlingly a breeze flutters the bird’s feathers, and it slowly turns its head, so that we find ourselves gazing at each other. It is so exciting that I want to stop someone and share this marvel but no one is handy, and in the end I calm down and walk to the bus stop like someone just having an ordinary day.