|Blue heron eyes us warily from the stream.|
Finn and I stroll along a neighborhood sidewalk, crossing over Juanita Creek just before it spills into Lake Washington. Looking over the railing of the bridge, I spy a blue heron.
I stop to look. Finn looks, too, and at first doesn't notice anything. But the heron, aware that it has been noticed, walks carefully through the shallow water until it is standing on some twigs and branches that have formed a sort of mini-log jam on boulders across the creek. The movement catches Finn's attention. I worry that he'll over-react as he does with ducks - whimpering with the desire to chase, straining against his leash, causing them to fly away in alarm. But no - he quietly sits beside me, as he does when I stop to watch eagles. Good boy.
I pull my iPhone out of my pocket and take a couple photos of the heron.
Finn waits patiently.
So I take his photo as he calmly observes the heron through the ornate fence of the bridge.
The heron observes me and Finn with less calm. I sense he's ready to spread his wings and take off for the safety of high branches in a nearby cottonwood or maple if either Finn or I make a sudden move.
We don't. Putting the phone back in my pocket, Finn and I carefully move on and continue our walk, leaving the heron to whatever business we had interrupted.
I wish Finn would be this calm around ducks.