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.