Heron thoughts

More than 20 years ago I saw one for the first time. It was on a misty morning on a bike ride to Spaarndam. This little village has a statue of Hans Brinker – you know – the little boy who put his finger in the dike. Never mind that he never really existed or that you can’t put your finger in a dike (we drive on top of dikes here – I always thought they were some sort of wall). But it is a beautiful little village and there was a wonderful park where I could go and be quiet, be alone, get my thoughts straight.

I would bike along the river and canals towards Spaarndam, and there was always a heron sitting watching me as I went. These are gloriously regal birds, in my opinion, especially when they fly. They soar, nose and neck straight ahead, large wings catching the wind. They are quite graceful in flight. Perhaps that, and the fact that they are everywhere, was why they were on Dutch money, the beautifully colored paper stuff. To be honest, I don’t remember which bill they graced (help me out here, those of you who knew guilders), but I really liked that one.

Maybe it is the association with such good moments – times of peace and quite, times of grace – that make me feel good when I see a heron. Whatever it is, I like seeing herons. And there are whole colonies here where we live now. We live along the Meuse (we call it the Maas) river, which forms the natural boundary between the Netherlands and Belgium. Behind our house is a canal. Between the canal and the river is a nature reserve where they allow Scottish cows to graze loose. It is in this area that the herons thrive. You can look up in the trees and see there nests everywhere.

But I get to see one almost every day. When I let Snuffles out in the morning, we walk along the canal. Just under the first bridge, about half way to the second bridge is the regular standing place of a heron. Most of the time he(she?) simply stands watching us as we go by. But the other day I was treated to something special.

It was a bit misty again (somehow that seems to make things stick longer in my mind) and it was very quiet. I hadn’t wanted to go out with the dog. It had been cold and I was so wanting Spring to finally arrive. Everything just felt ‘yucky’. And then I saw the heron. He came soaring in toward me along the canal, wings spread and slightly turned as he came in for a landing. The wind was blowing (another good reason not to be outside). Amazing how he so easily took the wind and used it to set himself so gently down on the top of a pole along the waterside. I can still see it now.

A bit mushy and cliche and all the rest (you can probably hear a song about wind and wings now in your head), but what struck me was that he couldn’t have sttled down so easily if he didn’t have resistance – if the wind weren’t there. It’s the wind resistance that makes a bird able to fly.

It changed my day for the better. God made us able to handle resistance and use it. He turns difficult things into something elegant and beautiful. Amazing what a walk with the dog can do for your spiritual health.