Light snow had covered the ground overnight as my friend Carolyn
and I ventured out to capture the beauty of the blanketed white landscape.
Before we began our journey we wanted to capture more pictures of Riley, the feisty
young swan. We tiptoed out the back door and quietly walked around to the front
of the building, only to find that Riley was already aware of our presence.
God’s wiring of swans to detect potential predators was evident, and the
predators that weekend were Carolyn and me.
As we approached Riley in the early morning light, he seemed
even more vigilant in the dimness, so much so that he flew out of the water and
up to the fence, warning us to back off. After a few pictures we decided not to
disturb him any longer. Moving away from him we journeyed onward and chatted
about what God had been revealing to us in our intentional time with Him. We both
felt so loved by our awesome Creator, and as we shared we found that He is
running a theme uniquely for both of us.
With a careful eye on the black ice, we began walking and
talking, staying on the driveway because it was too warm to hold the blanket of
snow. Every so often we stopped to take a few pictures that drew our attention--pathways
and ponds, trees and tear drops on branches--all the while birds in the background
made a joyous noise to the Lord. My mind,
however, was fixed on capturing a great picture of Riley. I shared an idea with Carolyn that if we
could open a window from inside the building, maybe, just maybe, we would be
invisible to him from that vantage point. With chilled fingers, we ventured inside. Carolyn moved swiftly to the windows that
face Riley’s habitat. As she removed the screen and cranked open the window, I grew
more and more excited about being able to capture him from a disclosed place.
After my camera was set, I saw something gray out of the
corner of my eye. In my mind I couldn’t fathom that I was seeing what I was
seeing. Could it be? Was it really one of my favorite birds? Like a little
child, I began to pull on Carolyn’s sleeve and whispered, “Is that a heron????”
“Where, where?” she asked. Within a few seconds of my description she saw him. Hearts
racing with delight, still questioning the gift, we watched him intently. He was
on the edge of the pond. Both Riley and Holly (the female swan) were directly
in front of him with their full attention on his presence. They meandered back
and forth, not straying far from this intruder.
As we kept our eyes fixed on this small heron and the swans,
we waited with great anticipation to see what would happen next. Time seemed to
stand still as we absorbed the scene. Then, quick as a flash, the heron dove
into the water to “fish out” his breakfast! Riley protested by jabbing at him,
but the heron was quick-witted enough to grab his breakfast and move swiftly
back up to the edge of the pond. Our
eyes were stunned and our hearts were pleased to see that this uniquely created
bird had escaped injury from the territorial swan and had his breakfast
securely in his bill.
As we watched him gently step away from the edge of the pond
we could see that he had captured a crappy to fill his belly. Carolyn and I
whispered back and forth as we watched him slowly begin to devour it. We were
both snapping pictures, but, for me, the hindrance of the fence kept me from
getting the crisp pictures I desired. I went back and forth with the tension in
my head of absorbing the experience and trying to capture it with my camera. Thankfully,
I was able to do some of both without much difficulty; however, I only captured
a few semi-crisp pictures.
As the heron slowly devoured the fish by clamping down and
turning it to swallow it whole, I mentioned to Carolyn that if she went outside
maybe he would move forward. As soon as she walked out the door, down the pipe
the fish went and the young heron turned and began to lift off. Amazed by his
wing span, much broader than I anticipated for a young heron, we watched him
fly away. Carolyn saw that he headed toward the pond above us. In her
graciousness she took care of getting the window secured and we packed up and
headed outside again to see if we might be able to spot him once more.
Riley immediately spotted us venturing past his kingdom, but
we didn’t stop this time and get him riled up. We were hoping to spot the young
heron again, but to no avail. As we approached the second pond we could not
find him. What we did enjoy were the geese that were floating on the pond near
the snow- covered bank, as well as the beauty of the reflection of snow-covered
trees as they mirrored themselves perfectly.
As I think about this grand experience my heart is thrilled
with the gift that God has given me over and over again to see herons in some
much unexpected places.
What unexpected surprises have you had in recent weeks? Are
there any similarities to these events? If so, consider spending some time in silence and
pay attention to what God brings to mind about these surprises.
How do you respond to times of tension? What might God be
asking of you when you find you are in that place?


