The Fisherman

While visiting my sister in British Columbia, the four of us spend pleasurable hours hiking and beachcombing, enjoying the scenic landscape of Cortes Island where she lives with her husband. We had made an early start that day in spite of the fog that had socked densely over horizon when we started out; but now it was late morning and the sun high overhead in the sky was becoming hot. The sun had burned through and we already had our jackets tied around our waist as the temperature quickly rose. We were grateful for the gentle breezes that gusted off the ocean. It blew our hair and cooled our face and arms us as we walked among the rocks and sand of the beach. Sea birds squawked noisily overhead and the swish of the waves on the shore confirmed the tranquility that life on the West Coast Island shores offered.

Several boats moored serenely off shore with their outboards up out of the water, one in particular with a canvas cover something like that of a convertible car caught our attention. Sitting on the port side of the stern, a Great Blue Heron sat motionless, poised and watching over the water below for movement, perhaps waiting for a late morning breakfast that had eluded him earlier. He sat so still that we looked twice unsure if he was merely ornamentation or real. He captivated our attention. So we took a seat on a massive cedar log near the trees that edged the shoreline. We watched patiently as this feathered fisherman unwearyingly waited to spear a fish. The bold pterodactyl like creature had trespassed onto an unoccupied anchored boat a couple hundred feet out into the bay. Entranced, we watched to see if his fishing efforts would reward him. He sensed us watching but chose to ignore us as we were far enough away. This majestic fisher fascinated us as we waited with anticipation for his catch. But we waited and waited and we too were now ready for another meal. Just as we were ready to move on, he swooped into the water with single splash emerging with a wriggling fish in this beak. Momentarily he mounted his perch on the skiff again, swallowed then spread his massive wings and flew off into the hot hazy sky and out of view. The spectacle now over, we continued our walk back to my sister’s house where we would have our own late morning breakfast.

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9 thoughts on “The Fisherman

  1. I love herons – when they’re not moving, they do look like statures. You captured that moment in vivid detail.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thank you so very much Sonya. While not doing a blogging event. I do plan on posting a piece of “Flash Fiction” (200 to 400 words) inspired by one of the thousands of photos I take. I’ll try to keep my weekly schedule. I’ll throw it out to Facebook and Twitter and Google+ and see if anyone notices and visits and if I’m very lucky get more people to follow my blog. Thanks again for looking at it.

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      • I like your idea of trying a flash fiction post to a photo – great idea and a perfect way to develop ideas. Love the heron and the boat. Have a great day.

        Liked by 1 person

      • My original goal was to post one new short story per month but I was hoping that also posting a flash fiction piece along with the inspirational photograph might get me more traffic. Thank you for being so positive. It made my day. You have a good one too.

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  2. Excellent post. So descriptive and herons are such a delight to encounter. Thank you.

    All my best to you this day,

    Liked by 1 person

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    Liked by 1 person

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