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| Subject: Through the Eyes of the Great Blue Heron | |
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Author: Bill "The Songman" (Short Story Awarded by andy) |
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Date Posted: 10:27:32 11/29/07 Thu Through the Eyes of the Great Blue Heron A heavy morning fog, much like a freshly fallen snow, was draped over the river and its surrounding marsh. Slowly, as the morning sun opened her eyes, the veil lifted. The Quaboag River lazily meanders and snakes through the valley in an unhurried journey; eventually joining with the Ware and Swift rivers, forming the Chicopee. I slipped my johnboat into the flow, slowly easing the electric trolling motor into the water. As I silently traveled from my departure point, the sounds and sights of humanity faded from my senses, revealing the sights and songs of nature. For the next eight hours all I would see and touch would be the river’s gifts. My journey, disguised as a fishing trip, was a reconnection with the spirit, the spirit of Mother Earth. Every trip on the river offered me a new perspective. In silence I wondered, whose eyes would I share today? August had been a month without rain, water levels were low and current almost non-existent. The boating channel was almost impassable. Fields of matted coontail carpeted the surface, each plant graced with a diamond sized flower; a sparkling river garden’s beauty on display. Incandescent blue dragon flies, thousands upon thousands, miniscule in size, mate in flight; engaged in an airborne ritual, softly danced, inches above the water’s surface. Occasionally, a fish explodes through the surface, taking flight, acrobatically snatching a meal from the air. When we leave the realities of human existence behind an opportunity to become one with our surroundings unfolds, heightening our senses. Sounds come into focus, our eyesight sharpens, and the beauty surrounding us becomes our reason. I casually made casts directed towards likely fish holding targets, occasionally hooking up with a largemouth bass, my intended quarry. Slowly I approached the next bend, one of my prime hotspots and my eyes fell upon a great blue heron; standing majestically, knee deep in water, right smack in the middle of one of my prime spots. My heart sunk. He knew where to catch them too. Fish only fear one thing more than they fear me – the dreaded great blue heron. All chances of catching a fish disappeared. Edging closer the heron took flight, finding new habitat about 100 yards downstream. This was not good. The moving shadows cast by the bird’s wide wing span strikes terror into the hearts and minds of fish, panic stricken they scurry for cover and hide for hours. Unlike me, the great blue is a motionless hunter, instilled with a patient demeanor, well beyond anything humanly possible. Standing in water, not moving a muscle, waiting silently for the moment the fish to forget their fear and reappear. Needless to say I went fishless from the bend to his current station. Once again as I approached, he took flight, repositioning a short distance downstream. This could be a long day; four miles of river lie ahead. Slowly my frustrations started to rise. I could spook him; drive him from his search for sustenance, somehow force him behind me. Thoughtlessly I sat in the boat and the door to the universe opened, a portal bereft of time and substance. The mind and eyes of the heron crept into my heart. My perspective changed. I was on a hunt for life, not some casual fishing trip. As the heron, I required the fish I caught – my life depended on it. That darn fool in the boat was making my hunt difficult. I could circle behind him, but I’ve shared the river with him before. The fish fear him almost as much as they fear me. It could be a long fishless day. I’ve got to stay in front of him; otherwise I might not eat today. Surely he understands. Back in the boat I focused my entire being on the heron’s presence. My flight through the eyes of the heron was now my reality. Minnows and small fry darted about. Motionless, I waited, a bigger meal was necessary. Not a flinch, sound or wink of the eye. Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, a 12 inch bass slid into view. A meal at last! Closer, closer, closer, I struck with such precision and speed he never knew what hit him. He was in my stomach in the wink of an eye, ensnared in a useless struggle to escape. I looked up and the man in the boat was almost on top of me, twenty feet away! I was so scared when I took flight my bowels emptied over his boat. Splash! Darn bird, almost nailed me. I have never been able to get so close to a great blue. What a beauty! What a fish he caught! Full of new found respect, I watched the bird fly off. By leaving my self behind, I had been able to see the world through his eyes; the oneness of it all. Now back in my world I gave thought to his perspective. I must truly be a nuisance, just like I think he’s a nuisance. But he’s on a struggle for survival; me, just a pleasure trip. I put added stress on his journey. How many times in life have I only considered my perspective? Seems to me, single minded perception can lead to problems; wars, conflicts, lawsuits and arguments, why all sorts of issues. And they’re all just a matter of perspective. As humans, aren’t we all the same? We all bleed red and breathe. And as tenants of this planet, Mother Earth, don’t we all share the same objectives? We share the same mother, yet we end up, brothers and sisters, fighting for our share of the pie. Doesn’t make much sense to me! If we all pulled in the same direction the world would be a better place. Hmmmm, I made a river resolution, the best kind. The next time I feel conflicted, I’m going to sit back and look at the world, through the eyes of the great blue heron.  [ Next Thread | Previous Thread | Next Message | Previous Message ] |