Nature, Red in Tooth and Claw and Beak

Great blue heron swallowing a fish

Nature writer John Burroughs often talks about the rewards inherent in observing nature right where you are, watching the “procession pass” like a “revolving showcase.”  Even walking the same terrain yields unexpected gifts, exemplifying the old adage that you cannot step into the same river twice:

” . . . the place to observe nature is where you are; the walk to take to-day is the walk you took yesterday. . . . I shall probably never see another just such day as yesterday was, because one can never exactly repeat his observation, — cannot turn the leaf of life backward, — and because each day has characteristics of its own.”
— John Burroughs, from “A Sharp Lookout”

As I’ve been making my daily run around Green Lake, I’ve been keeping my eyes peeled for three resident herons.  Most often I see them standing stock still in the shallow lake’s edge, sometimes perched on a log or in a tree.  This was my first time seeing a great blue heron devouring its catch.  I found it a bit humorous to see that relatively big fish in the heron’s beak — were the heron’s eyes bigger than its stomach?  And then suddenly the scene took on an eerie feel — watching that fish move down the slender neck of the bird was like watching a snake swallow a mouse.  No fuss, no muss.  Over quickly.  My National Geographic moment.