He was surprised, not pleased

 Because the bank of the pond was steep, I didn’t see the heron and he didn’t see me until the last moment.

It was a great blue, Ardea herodias. He was so big, and we were so close I must have jumped when he took off. The Wise Woman supposed I’d come across a snake. She didn’t see the bird. The heron flew low, shielded from her sight by the pond’s banks.

I saw great blues often in Galveston and along Zarzamora Creek in San Antonio. I’ve seen a couple here in the Georgia Piedmont. Wading, they are skinny and gawky, all angles. In flight, they are improbably graceful.

This one had a wingspan of more than 6 feet and might have weighed 5 pounds.

I’ve been thinking of the poet Mary Oliver recently. Her description of the great blues: “angels carved by Giacometti.”