It’s early morning, the mist swirls around the lake in prehistoric shrouds, hiding the peaty waters in its ancient curtains. There’s a silence that sounds like your own heartbeat from within the ground under your feet. And then your hair stands on end as the old call cronks through the awakening hours.
Even when there’s nothing to echo from the cry of the heron resonates and rings from the depths of before. Announcing the day, he floats overhead on oversized wings, bringing pterodactyl time to life over the woods of Anglezarke.
As old as these hills the heron brings the energy of newness to the crisp spring air, purging the last gasps of night before the burgeoning sunrise.
Fantastic!! Brilliant captures….these are THE birds of our area here in Germany, often in our gardens too or floating overhead to check out the next garden pond. In late February we witnessed some on a very early frosty morning when out with our cameras, feeding in the river bathed in golden light. Magical. There really is a prehistoric look to them!
Aren’t they evocative of ancient times Michelle! Thank you for your comment.