Linda’s Heron

Linda's Heron

I’ve spent the past several days helping a dear friend move to Florida.  When she suggested it, I thought, “Heck yeah! I’m always up for a road trip!”….forgetting that the last road trip I undertook was many moons ago. Tired as the trip left me, I’m so glad I did it.  It did my heart good to see her follow her dream. It felt like a proper send off to someone who has meant so much to me here. Thank goodness for the internet~Hugs, Diana!!  I miss you already!

When I returned to my studio, this fierce fellow was waiting for me.  He’s my last commission of 2014.  Yesterday I tinkered a little with him, and then decided I’d better leave him alone.  Gazing at him standing there with rain drops pelting him, I can’t help but wonder what the future holds for this planet of ours.  Last night I watched a movie filmed in 1948.  Back then, people could be certain of their world, I think.  Of course, human impact via chemicals, birth rate, accelerating commercialism and all the rest, were already beginning.  But they could still count on going out and seeing a frog, if they had a mind to.  I can no longer count on that, even with the thousands of acres held in preserve.

Life will survive, and nature can heal herself.  When I ask myself what is to be done, I think the best answer is to keep loving the world and each other.  When love is a verb, magic can happen.


  1. Reply

    Thanks for following my blog and It’s good to find someone with similar sensibilities about nature and the environment.
    I know figure out when to stop is often the most difficult decision in painting this is a lovely piece.

    • Reply

      My pleasure, Richard. I’ve been enjoying your avatar but my computer never let me go to your website before. It is nice to find someone else on the same page, isn’t it? I like your work.

  2. Reply

    That heron is very handsome. We see them along the Iowa River and when we drive along the Mississippi. White egrets are there in the summer, too. Now and then, a heron will be flying over, the long neck cocked back, the large wings slowly flapping. I would hate to see the day when they are no longer seen.

    Thanks for capturing the image of that fine bird.

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    I have a heron who’s come to visit the past three years. When the north winds blow and the temperature drops, he huddles on the swim platform of a boat across from my place. It gives him a place to be out of the wind, and it gives me the opportunity to admire him. Your heron is just as admirable.

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    That’s a very fine heron. All fluffed out against the rain. I am reading Kissinger’s World Order at present and it doesn’t make happy reading if you want a rosy picture of the future. Sometimes I am glad I am almost 60 and not approaching my teens. There may be a lot of technology at our disposal to make life easier but it can also be abused. The spectre of how non-state actors (such as ISIL) might acquire and use nuclear weapons is very, very, scary.

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    Yes, he’s enduring foul weather, isn’t he? I don’t think it bothers him as much as it would me.
    Oh, dear~and I would imagine that Kissinger would know. I think I’ll give that one a miss. I do a lot of reading of environmental matters, and that isn’t a pretty picture, either. You mention technology… perhaps that will save the day after all. My son, who is 23, speaks of the unifying force that is the internet. He says that young people of all countries interact via social media. I hope he is right, that people who have exchanged e-jokes would not bomb each other.

    • Reply

      While the Internet can be a great connecter, I’ve noticed in my four years of blogging that most blogs are segregated by language—which is understandable, because you can’t enjoy something that isn’t understandable (and you can understand that I couldn’t resist playing with that word). For example, there are a few French-language blogs that I look at, and not surprisingly almost all the commenters are native French speakers. English serves to some extent as a lingua franca, but most English speakers looking at foreign-language sites are limited to commenting on images without knowing what the accompanying text means and what other commenters have said. On the positive side, if translating programs improve enough we may be able to overcome those language barriers.

      • Yes, my neighbor is hosting a student from China, and we were able to somewhat communicate via an internet translator. It is really great but has a way to go~it could only go in one direction.

  6. Reply

    Your heron looks so much like the herons I see at Poor Farm Swamp near here, Melissa. It is indeed a fine specimen of a wader and the colors are lovely.
    I enjoy your son’s sentiment that those who share e-jokes wouldn’t bomb each other. I am, unfortunately, a bit pessimistic about that. We just observed the anniversary of the first world war combatants laying down their arms for Christmas. Despite what Christmas represents, they picked them up again. Sorry to be such a downer.
    This lovely work of yours definitely picks things back up again. 🙂

    • Reply

      I’ve often thought about that, Steve, about how they picked their weapons back up. How sad was that.
      And on another pessimistic note, I’m sitting here debating whether the program on white pelicans I was going to attend this evening is worth potential exposure to this year’s flu or not. I mean, you can’t just sit out the entire season….

      • Have chicken soup before attending and wear a paper mask.

        Did you have a flu shot? I get one every year and most often it seems to work.

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    In the end, as temperatures dropped and wind picked up, I decided I don’t care enough about the presence of white pelicans here to go out to hear about them. What a curmudgeon I am!

    • Reply

      If the cold there is at all like what we are and will be experiencing then I think you made the prudent decision. We may have 30° below wind chills tonight. It will challenge the wood stove to keep up.

  8. Reply

    When I was a little kid in the suburbs of Long Island in the late 1940s and through the 1950s, it was common in summer to see lots of fireflies (which we called lightning bugs) in our yards. Unfortunately I believe they’ve all disappeared now.

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