Herons have always seemed particularly Buddha-like to me, despite their distinctly non-chubby physiques. They stand in a meditative trance, perfectly able to stay that way for as long as they want. When they’re fishing they’re masters of patience, ever so slowly wading the shoreline.
Even young herons in a crowded rookery will stand perfectly still – especially if they sense they’re being watched. They’re pretty good at the hiding in plain sight game, too.
But once mom shows up at feeding time – cover your ears! The racket and squabbling starts on a dime and seems to escalate the whole time she’s at the nest. It sounds like wild beasts on a rampage in the trees.
Their hairdos even change to a wild punk rock style. From chill to frantic in zero seconds.
Mom takes this racket for as long as she can stand it, and then – without even a “see ya later”, is gone.
The kids watch her until she’s out of sight, wild hair now dejectedly tamed,
and calmly return to the land of Zen.