I don’t know much about blue herons. I just know they always catch my attention.
Standing there in the shallows, alone, for the longest time. Not doing much of anything…or so it seems. But I think he’s watching. Waiting for the exact right moment, and not a second before.
I’ve always been drawn to painting animals. Not for their anatomy, or to get every feather right but for what they carry without trying to. A gaze. A tilt of the head. Something in the stillness that says more than words could.
This one, I just let myself play. Blues, purples, a little gold and some reds where they had no business being…because why not.
The heron’s got that patience too. Doesn’t rush, doesn’t panic, doesn’t need to force anything.
Maybe that’s what stopped me this summer. Watching him hold so still, and somehow teaching me something about trusting timing I can’t control.
He’s small, 5×7, but he carries all of that.
If he speaks to you too, he’s available. Comment or send me a message.
